As a retired civil service officer of good repute, Syed Munir Husain has written an engaging book. Surviving the Wreck is, by turn, circumspect and forthright, solemn and revealing; it is about a single individual’s career, and it is a short, subjective summary of the country’s history.

Cynics too easily devalue comments and memoirs by former civil and military officials on the grounds that they remain silent during their active work and become wise only after retirement. This is grossly unfair to those who serve the state. Conditions of service which give them official status provide only three options. Do what you are instructed to do by your superiors. Or do what is right, and, if what is insisted upon is wrong, record your dissent in writing and face the consequences of possible victimisation. Or resign from office. Husain often chose the second option without always having to put this down in black and white, partly because inappropriate instructions were/are only given verbally — so there was no written note to disagree with.

Between October 1952 when he joined the Civil Service Academy in Lahore as a trainee officer, till his retirement in January 1991, the author held a wide range of positions at the district, provincial and federal government levels. There were frequent occasions at each level when he had to make difficult choices. Most of the time, he made the correct decisions. The responsibilities he fulfilled in 35 years of service with the state reflect the variety of challenges faced. Other senior civil service officers are also often charged with tasks that are in complete contrast to each other e.g. from enforcing law and order to managing the content of airwaves. Not many officers address such contrasts with consistent integrity and equanimity. Husain is one of the few who did so.

One credible indicator of the author’s distinctive capability came in the form of a meritorious international award. Acknowledging his exceptional services in the national effort to accommodate three million-plus Afghan refugees during his tenure as federal secretary in the Ministry of States and Frontier Regions (1983-87), UNHCR conferred on him the Nansen Medal for 1988. Previous recipients included Eleanor Roosevelt, USA, president Julius Nyerere, Tanzania, and president Valery Giscard d’ Estaing, France. In keeping with tradition, the author donated the US $50,000 grant which was utilised for refugees in Sudan.

Syed Munir Husain’s memoirs take us through some of the political upheavals he was witness to during his years of service

In 13 out of 16 chapters the author becomes both participant and witness to swift, short-lived governments as well as longer, sustained tenures. In the concluding three chapters, the author analyses and summarises both his own personal experiences and the broader national catharsis. Titled: ‘Civil Services under Martial Law’ and ‘Civilian Rule’, ‘Need for Durable Governance’, and ‘Nation’s Capacity to address its Painful Past’, the last three chapters attempt a panoramic portrait and present brief proposals for reform and renewal.

These memoirs provoke reflection on the phenomenal difficulties faced by our country since birth. The state had to begin operating overnight as a full-fledged entity. The Pakistan-inherited part of the ICS (Indian Civil Service) cadre represented one of the solid pillars of our survival. In the first 12 critical years before the first martial law brought a perverse new sense of certainty, including the first five years of the author’s service, the Civil Service of Pakistan provided invaluable administrative and management leadership at both macro and micro levels to prove how wrong Indian home minister Vallabhai Patel had been when he mocked in 1947 that:

“Pakistan won’t survive more than six months”.

Three senior officials did intrude into the political domain. While all three possessed financial integrity, two in particular took decisions with disastrous consequences. These were governor-general Ghulam Muhammad’s dissolution of the Constituent Assembly, and president Iskandar Mirza’s initial decision to invite the armed forces to take power and abrogate the 1956 Constitution. The third being Chaudhry Muhammad Ali, who contributed substantially to the draft of the first Constitution of 1956 while also serving as prime minister, 1955-56.

Episodes are recalled at different points to reveal notable ironies and idiosyncrasies.

During the author’s tenure as deputy commissioner, Karachi (1961-64) then-air commodore Nur Khan as MD, PIA wanted swift approval for the location of the new Intercontinental Hotel. After consultation with staff who also opposed the requested location because of its close proximity to the Governor’s House, an alternative sitebeyond Clifton Bridge was offered. Nur Khan did not accept this option. Despite the Nawab of Kalabagh, then-governor of West Pakistan, knowing of Nur Khan’s strong preference, the author was not instructed by the Governor to accept the original request. A few months later when president Ayub Khan visited Karachi he asked Husain for the reasons why Nur Khan’s request had been denied. Asserting that he did not see the proposed location as a security risk for Governor’s House, the head of state himself had to intervene with a deputy commissioner. But did so politely, not rudely. And there was no adverse fallout for the earlier decision.

On the outbreak of the 1965 war with India, Husain was also holding charge of the Home Department of West Pakistan. One sudden urgent need that arose was that 500 people were required to repair the BRB Canal breach caused by Indian shelling. “The canal had strategic defence importance. No labour was found at that time of the night. I took the risk to free a couple of hundred prisoners from Lahore Jail to work through the night to close the breach. They returned to the prison in the morning without a single person absconding … such was the spirit of the day”.

As chief secretary Balochistan in the crucial years 1973-76, when Zulifikar Ali Bhutto ordered the army operation in that province and when he later chose a junior lieutenant general to become chief of army staff (Gen Ziaul Haq) two incidents in the author’s presence reveal Bhutto’s mindset. On his arrival at Sibi in February 1996 to attend the annual mela, the prime minister proceeded to shake hands with Gen Zia and the corps commander, bypassing and upsetting the Khan of Kalat who was the formal host as the governor of Balochistan.

“Ayub Khan had been sworn in as President under his new constitution and the Martial Law was lifted in June 1962. But the momentum of his autocratic rule over the country continued. Sporadic efforts were made by some newspapers to assert their independent views but a real test came when the Federal Government decided to enact a coercive law as the Press Ordinance of Pakistan in August 1963. An organised protest was led by a few newspapers that partly diluted the law but it did not satisfy the top print media nor was the government ready to give in to their demands. Ayub Khan was never in favour of a free press. He had privately mentioned on some occasions that he could not allow the press to have a license to subvert the outlook of the innocent people by false and mischievous propaganda.” — Excerpt from the book

Later the same day Bhutto called the author to the residency to ask why Gen Zia had come to Sibi when he had not been invited. Bhutto also noted the extra courtesy shown by Gen Zia when they met at the helipad. Bhutto said: “Why did Ziaul Haq stoop low to greet me? He is the COAS and should behave like a full general.”

In the author’s view, Bhutto “could not shake off the lurking fear of the army”. chief minister Jam Sahib of Lasbela had invited Bhutto to dinner during Bhutto’s next visit to Quetta. The invitation was accepted. But later, when brigadier Bukhari, IG of the Balochistan Frontier Corp (sic), unaware of the other invitation, also invited Bhutto, the latter preferred to attend the IGFC’s dinner at which Jam Sahib rightly felt greatly insulted.

During those three years, the author also had to handle curious contrary pulls. The chief minister’s son was the son-in-law of the governor and the governor’s son was married to the chief minister’s daughter. Despite this dual close bond, the governor would use the chief secretary as intermediary to frequently convey letters asking for transfers, postings of commissioners, deputy commissioners and other senior officials to replace them with his own nominees. Such letters from the governor would mostly arrive by messenger in the dead of night.

During the time that he was secretary, Federal Ministry of Information and Broadcasting (1987-88), Husain once received a midnight call from Ziaul Haq who said: “I think I am no longer the president of Pakistan in your eyes?” It later transpired that the president was most upset that in PTV’s Khabarnama earlier the same night, the duration of coverage given to prime minister Junejo was one whole minute more than the coverage given to the president’s activities. The author recalls with regret that Ziaul Haq had an almost obsessive interest in meeting foreign journalists which could reach “ludicrous limits”.

The author rightly laments that, commencing with Ayub Khan’s abrupt dismissal of several ICS officers in 1958-60, almost all governments which came thereafter (Yahya Khan’s, Bhutto’s, Zia’s, Benazir Bhutto’s, Nawaz Sharif’s, Pervez Musharraf’s) took arbitrary and capricious decisions adversely affecting the service structure and performance of government officials. These actions damaged the autonomy, impartiality and integrity of the CSP/DMG (District Management Group) cadres. Promotions, appointments, suspensions and transfers became subject to partisan and personal considerations. Along with a steep decline in the ethical norms of political and military rulers, the integrity of office-holders has become a rare quality. Financial corruption was always a malady of some. It then became a recurrent illness of many.

It is unpleasant yet unavoidable to record that the text of the book is replete with errors of syntax, spellings and grammar. The author alone should not be held responsible. Nor is this book unusual in this respect. It is distressing to note that three books written by prominent Pakistani personalities in English read in recent weeks, including the book under review, are marred by often appalling lapses in observing elementary rules for proof-reading and editing. Is such recurrence a sign of a decline in English language teaching, learning and proficiency, or is it sheer negligence by publishers?

The book’s title expresses individual resilience and institutional damage, hope as well as sadness. Despite the prevailing scenario in which competence and integrity are rare features, the bureaucracy is unavoidably an essential pivot for Pakistan’s progress. Reform is possible. There are some honest, capable, courageous civil servants. Their number has to increase to critical mass. Officials and leaders, civil and military, and citizens at large will find Husain’s book a source of insightful reflection and much-needed inspiration.

The reviewer is a former senator and federal minister, and is honourary chairman, Ardeshir Cowasjee Centre for Writing, IBA, Karachi.

Surviving the Wreck: A Civil Servant’s
Personal History of Pakistan
(MEMOIRS)
By Syed Munir Husain
ILQA Publications, Lahore
ISBN 978-9696400301
304pp.