We know much about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes but are unaware of the Sherlock from our own land. While Doyle’s character is a fictional creation and renowned as the finest detective of his time, ours is a living figure, with a reputation somewhat marked by infamy.

He, unlike Doyle’s Sherlock, is not a private detective living off his wits, but a government-paid employee, juggling many roles: detective, investigation officer, keeper of law and order, and whatever else the day throws at him. He goes by the name of ‘Thanaydar’.  

The mention of the word likely brings up a description in many a mind of a middle-aged guy with a large face, a heavy black moustache, and an intimidating and sturdy figure. Why? Many of us know him either through Bollywood movies or anecdotes, where he is, more often than not, portrayed this way.

However, the personality of our Sherlock has a multitude of shades that have remained unexplored and untold so far. He is such a character, dare I say, that if Doyle were familiar with him, he might have preferred him over Sherlock Holmes as his go-to character. But, to the dismay of our Sherlock, Doyle is not around to wax lyrical about him.

The police in Pakistan have a reputation for being unreliable and brutal, and the thanaydar, often the first point of police contact for the public, is seen as the embodiment of these traits. A serving policeman reflects on the excessive, oftentimes contradictory, demands of the role that engenders this reputation…

So, in the absence of Doyle and with the men of knowledge of the day uninterested in the character, the task of untangling the intricate web of his personality falls to me, and I, with all my clumsiness notwithstanding, am daring to lean into the task. Here we go…

THE THANAYDAR’S HISTORICAL ROOTS

The word ‘Thanaydar’ itself has moorings in Persian and two words, ‘Thana’ which means police station or jurisdiction and ‘dar’ meaning keeper or holder, have been combined to form this term. It came into use in India during the Mughal era, which introduced two different roles for the maintenance of law and order. One was ‘Kotwal’, who was responsible for upholding order in urban areas, while the other was ‘Thanaydar’, who was tasked with managing law and order in a rural area of his jurisdiction.

The word is also documented in historical texts. For example, Mughal historian Abul Fazl described the role and responsibilities of the thanaydar in Akbar Nama in these words: “The Emperor-appointed thanaydars in various regions to maintain peace and order. These officials were responsible for the safety of the inhabitants, the security of the roads, and the collection of revenue. They had to ensure that the subjects were protected from thieves and marauders and that justice was administered fairly.”

Later, the British, though they introduced a number of changes to the overall policing system of the Subcontinent, retained the concept of Thana and Thanaydar, and went on to formalise it with the establishment of proper Thanas or police stations, the basic unit of the police as we know it today.

Historically, the role of the thanaydar has been known for authority and power and, of course, as with other powerful figures, for their whimsical use — which has much to do with the enduring infamy affixed to the character he carries till this day. 

An oft-narrated joke has it that, once, a poor, elderly man who had got entangled in a criminal case. When acquitted by the judge after a lengthy trial spanning over five years, he prayed for the judge to be promoted to the position of thanaydar. The judge, smirking, told the elderly man that he was already in a position superior to the thanaydar. ‘How could you be higher in authority,’ the elderly man quipped, ‘when it took you five years to let me off the

hook, while the thanaydar offered me the same reprieve instantly, for just a few hundred rupees?’

The anecdote, apart from its comic relief, effectively unmasks how odious and sadistic a character the thanaydar has historically been. The role is no longer as authoritative as it used to be during the Britishers’ or Mughals’ reign, yet its notoriety is intact for plenty of reasons.

Fear being his hallmark, he comes to the great benefit of both state and the government of the day in securing ‘national interests.’ Whenever the need arises, he rises to the occasion, adeptly pulling the plug on protests and movements that come into the crosshairs of the state. His loyalty to the state is so unwavering that he views orders from his political masters as divine decrees and, thus, he feels no qualms about giving short shrift to statutes while executing these orders.

ROLE IN THE PRESENT DAY

In the present time, the nomenclature is no longer strictly used to refer to the in-charge of a police station, as it was in the Mughal and British eras; rather it has been employed for two ranks in the police department: Assistant Sub-Inspector and Sub-Inspector.

In the current scheme, he is a small cog in an otherwise monstrous hierarchical structure, yet he serves as a linchpin, as he is the first person in the hierarchy of the police who comes into contact with the general public. Thus, his role is as vital as it was in the past.

As far as his responsibilities are concerned, these are too numerous to be perfectly performed by a mere mortal, as these include, but are not limited to, patrolling his area of jurisdiction, attending to crime scenes, listening to the grievances of victims, interrogating criminals, and investigating crimes. The number of responsibilities requires him to be a multi-tasker or, should I say, a genie, simply to manage the sheer volume of tasks expected of him.

Even, in the pre-Partition era, when the population bomb had not yet exploded, living up to the duties assigned to the role was a hard row to hoe. An anecdote has it that once a local complained about the inefficiency of a thanaydar. He responded with a touch of humour, saying, “It is not that I am slow — it is that I am handling more cases than there are hours in a day.”

This remark brings home the extent to which someone today in this role would be stretched, given the substantial increase in population and diversity in the nature of crime.

LESS COP, MORE ACTOR

Today, this Sherlock is less a cop and more an actor; not just a simple actor playing his assigned role, but a character actor, who switches between different roles at the drop of a hat. And it’s not occasional but the story of every other minute.

It is not that he does it out of his own volition, but it is a requirement of his job. People want to see in him different personalities in different situations. As a complainant, one expects him to be a tough guy who, upon seeing the alleged accused, would impulsively ground him into the earth. However, in a reverse role, one wants him to be an effeminate and cultured man, who refuses to give in to violent tendencies.

And, here, the character actor inside him plays out, and — look at that — off go both complainant and accused, merrily and grinning, believing the thanaydar to be on their side when, in reality, he is on neither’s. In fact, by dint of this acting prowess, the thanaydar gets through unscathed.

Such performances are repeated by him every single day, and that too, impromptu and unscripted, but the poor chap’s performance goes unnoticed by the members of the Academy Awards. Otherwise, he would have walked away with an Oscar for the category of best actor every year.

The thanaydar is expected to be on duty around the clock, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. His responsibilities are relentless: he spends his nights patrolling his area, attends court hearings during the day,

and listens to public grievances in the evenings. Any remaining time is typically consumed by mandatory appearances before senior officers.

The demands of the role leave him little time for basic needs, such as eating regular meals, let alone for any leisure or recreational activities. In many police stations, even access to potable water is a rare luxury. As a result, health issues, such as infections and diabetes are prevalent among those in this role. The joke within the fraternity is that only the fortunate few make it to retirement age; many succumb to death with illness or due to the pressures of the job, long before their official retirement. Thus, he has only duties and no rights.

But he never minds if he has no rights; he ensures others do not enjoy theirs. He, a lowly man in court and before his superiors and the men of authority, all of a sudden turns out to be a tiger when it comes to dealing with individuals belonging to an underprivileged class, ethnic minorities and marginalised communities. He does not shy away from snubbing, scorning threatening, and even torturing them, only if he is sure about their weak status in society.     

A SELF-FINANCING FUNCTIONARY

All negative aspects notwithstanding, the good thing about him is that he does not burden the national kitty and takes nothing out of it except a meagre salary. He meets all expenditures incurred in the service of people, such as investigation, travelling, and patrolling of the area, from his own pocket — or should I say, he is expected to pay from his pocket.

Managing these and many other expenses from his salary, which normally does not exceed a four-figure amount, is, of course, next to impossible for him. Here, his talent comes to his aid, and he, without complaining or making any fuss, manages these funds from ‘other sources.’ And, of course, these ‘other sources’ funds flow from the commoners or ‘a bunch of respectables’ within his jurisdiction.

Fear being his hallmark, he comes to the great benefit of both state and the government of the day in securing ‘national interests.’ Whenever the need arises, he rises to the occasion, adeptly pulling the plug on protests and movements that come into the crosshairs of the state. His loyalty to the state is so unwavering that he views orders from his political masters as divine decrees and, thus, he feels no qualms about giving short shrift to statutes while executing these orders.

What’s more, he is so skilled at performing these tasks that he rarely falters, no matter how challenging the times may be. Recently, he demonstrated his prowess by effectively reining in the so-called ‘intractables’ following the grim events of May 9th. But don’t be mistaken — he has many such feathers in his cap. Indeed, he stands among the most celebrated state apparatchiks, championing the ‘writ of the state’ with remarkable flair.

THE MOUSTACHE MYSTIQUE

Among his signature styles, the handlebar moustache stands out. He grows a moustache in a certain style, to project bravery and masculinity. The handlebar moustache is almost a badge of honour for the thanaydar, symbolising masculinity, authority and a no-nonsense attitude. It serves as a visual cue that he is authoritative and brave. Thus, he spends more time twirling and grooming his moustache than doing anything else.

Though one finds the character of the thanaydar a blend of authority and absurdity, yet, in the broader picture, whether the thanaydar is a hero or a villain is a matter of perspective. He may be a hero for one and a villain for the other, but what remains indisputable is that he is an emblem of the complex realities of law enforcement in Pakistan — flawed yet indispensable, navigating a labyrinth of expectations and constraints with a blend of dedication and moral ambiguity.

Moreover, within this characterisation lies a deeper truth about the systemic issues plaguing the police force in Pakistan. The thanaydar’s story unravels the daily challenges faced by police officials at the lower rungs and underscores their unwavering commitment to their duties despite overwhelming odds. His multifaceted role not only reflects the personal struggles of these officials but

also exposes the systemic rot within the policing system.

Ultimately, the thanaydar stands as a symbol of resilience and dedication, amid a backdrop of institutional dysfunction.

The writer is a sub-inspector in the police and is currently serving in a specialised unit. He has a law degree from the University of Punjab. He can be reached at maharmurrawat240@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, EOS, September 29th, 2024