Read Online Aboard the Democracy Train by Nafisa Hoodbhoy - Free Book Online
Authors: Nafisa Hoodbhoy
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along the Indus Highway. It has an eye-catching turquoise shrine in the middle. Drawing closer to the walled town, one saw high brick walls, open sewers and women in black veils that flitted like banshees inside the mud corridors. I felt as though I had been transported back to the medieval ages.
Matiari’s landowners were anxious to give me the inside story on dacoits. A short while ago, they had received notes from theinfamous dacoit, Mohib Shidi to hand over their income at a specified location. They informed the Rangers – an offshoot of the army – about his presence. There was a shoot-out between the Rangers and the Shidi-led dacoits in Matiari; terrified residents hid indoors, listening to the sound of gunfire.
However, the cultivators – and, by now, the whole town – talked of how the bandit had walked away unruffled. Mohib Shidi had arrived in style at the local mosque on the Muslim festival of Eid and said his prayers with the leaders of the congregation. Afterwards, astonished residents saw him watch the cattle show, attended by big feudals and other dignitaries. There, he mingled with the people and graciously distributed cash and chicken
biryani
(a special rice dish) among them.
What had made the dacoits so powerful? Why was Shidi still free even though everyone recognized him as a dangerous dacoit? Why were the buses, which traveled from Karachi to the localities in interior Sindh, frequently ambushed while the administration appeared helpless?
The trip became an eye-opener into the nexus between crime and politics in Pakistan. As I spoke to locals, they told me of deep connections between powerful landlords and the new Sindh government. In October 1991, Sharif’s victory over Benazir had redrawn the political landscape so that Matiari’s biggest feudals – the Jamotes – had joined the Pakistan Muslim League (F – “functional”) government in coalition with Nawaz Sharif.
The powerful feudal and chief of PML (F), Pir Pagara of Khairpur – who had suffered an ignominious defeat at the hands of the masses in 1988 – had led the move to stamp out the PPP. Big landowners of Matiari and Khairpur – who were dead set against Benazir and her populist PPP – had begun to sponsor the dacoits against the small landowners that formed the grass roots of her party.
As buses headed toward Hala, north of Matiari, passengers were held up at gunpoint, robbed and kidnapped. In dramatic scenes enacted all over interior Sindh, the dacoits forced male passengers to disembark and walk hands up in the air at gun-pointtoward the marshy jungles along the Indus Highway. They were kept as hostage in the jungles until their families paid ransom.
I took the Indus Highway to the town of Saidabad (near Hala) to meet the small landowners victimized by the dacoits. It was a scary time to be traveling by road. Mohib Shidi and his gang would emerge with sudden ferocity from the jungles to ambush vehicles with Kalashnikov fire. Even my driver appeared anxious as our car sped along the Indus Highway – the only vehicle on the road in broad daylight.
But I was in the grip of a familiar sensation that came from chasing a big story. In Saidabad, I found a small landlord, Haji Waris Rahu and his men in gloomy spirits in the courtyard. The electricity had gone off – a frequent occurrence – and it was too hot to sit indoors. The verandah was bathed in milky moonlight, made even more eerie by the peasants holding Kalashnikovs.
The men were Rahu’s relatives, ready to ward off an imminent attack by the bandits. They could have been characters in a novel set in Tsarist Russia. The servant dutifully brought mugs of tea for all of us, while the villagers spoke one by one. I took notes in the moonlight.
Rahu’s men blamed the attacks on Mohib Shidi’s gang. They dully reeled the names of the dacoits and the big feudals who protected them. The aggrieved landowner told me in a distinctly downcast tone that although he had
Matiari’s landowners were anxious to give me the inside story on dacoits. A short while ago, they had received notes from theinfamous dacoit, Mohib Shidi to hand over their income at a specified location. They informed the Rangers – an offshoot of the army – about his presence. There was a shoot-out between the Rangers and the Shidi-led dacoits in Matiari; terrified residents hid indoors, listening to the sound of gunfire.
However, the cultivators – and, by now, the whole town – talked of how the bandit had walked away unruffled. Mohib Shidi had arrived in style at the local mosque on the Muslim festival of Eid and said his prayers with the leaders of the congregation. Afterwards, astonished residents saw him watch the cattle show, attended by big feudals and other dignitaries. There, he mingled with the people and graciously distributed cash and chicken
biryani
(a special rice dish) among them.
What had made the dacoits so powerful? Why was Shidi still free even though everyone recognized him as a dangerous dacoit? Why were the buses, which traveled from Karachi to the localities in interior Sindh, frequently ambushed while the administration appeared helpless?
The trip became an eye-opener into the nexus between crime and politics in Pakistan. As I spoke to locals, they told me of deep connections between powerful landlords and the new Sindh government. In October 1991, Sharif’s victory over Benazir had redrawn the political landscape so that Matiari’s biggest feudals – the Jamotes – had joined the Pakistan Muslim League (F – “functional”) government in coalition with Nawaz Sharif.
The powerful feudal and chief of PML (F), Pir Pagara of Khairpur – who had suffered an ignominious defeat at the hands of the masses in 1988 – had led the move to stamp out the PPP. Big landowners of Matiari and Khairpur – who were dead set against Benazir and her populist PPP – had begun to sponsor the dacoits against the small landowners that formed the grass roots of her party.
As buses headed toward Hala, north of Matiari, passengers were held up at gunpoint, robbed and kidnapped. In dramatic scenes enacted all over interior Sindh, the dacoits forced male passengers to disembark and walk hands up in the air at gun-pointtoward the marshy jungles along the Indus Highway. They were kept as hostage in the jungles until their families paid ransom.
I took the Indus Highway to the town of Saidabad (near Hala) to meet the small landowners victimized by the dacoits. It was a scary time to be traveling by road. Mohib Shidi and his gang would emerge with sudden ferocity from the jungles to ambush vehicles with Kalashnikov fire. Even my driver appeared anxious as our car sped along the Indus Highway – the only vehicle on the road in broad daylight.
But I was in the grip of a familiar sensation that came from chasing a big story. In Saidabad, I found a small landlord, Haji Waris Rahu and his men in gloomy spirits in the courtyard. The electricity had gone off – a frequent occurrence – and it was too hot to sit indoors. The verandah was bathed in milky moonlight, made even more eerie by the peasants holding Kalashnikovs.
The men were Rahu’s relatives, ready to ward off an imminent attack by the bandits. They could have been characters in a novel set in Tsarist Russia. The servant dutifully brought mugs of tea for all of us, while the villagers spoke one by one. I took notes in the moonlight.
Rahu’s men blamed the attacks on Mohib Shidi’s gang. They dully reeled the names of the dacoits and the big feudals who protected them. The aggrieved landowner told me in a distinctly downcast tone that although he had
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