Reflections from Pakistan XI: Islamabad is a foreign city

Islamabad is Pakistan's custom built capital. A city built on an empty piece of land during the 1960s. Until recently, Pakistanis were not 'from' Islamabad – they just happened to live in Islamabad. (Until recently, only bureaucrats and diplomats lived in Islamabad.) However, today a new generation of 'Islamabadis,' with their own culture and lifestyle has emerged.

Islamabad's location on the Potohar Plateau surrounded by the Margalla Hills was no accident. Despite sitting astride an earthquake fault line, President Ayub Khan selected the location due to its proximity with Rawalpindi, Lahore and Peshawar. As a bonus, nearby hill stations like Murree, standing at a comfortable 2,300 meters above sea level, are just about one hour drive north. From the capital, Lahore is several hours drive south while Peshawar is a road journey of a couple of hours northwest.

Daman-e-Koh park in the Margalla Hills which surround Islamabad

Islamabad is home to Pakistan's Parliament and civil bureaucratic leadership. The country's lawmakers and senior mandarins live in nice, leafy neighbourhoods dotted across the city's 900 square kilometer area. Despite being the country's capital, many Pakistanis feel Islamabad is a foreign city; not a part of the 'real' Pakistan. It is easy to understand why such a belief is so widespread.

Islamabad has a sense of order and logic absent from Pakistan's other cities. The 'grid' design of Islamabad city streets helps reinforce the perception of order. In stark contrast, Pakistan's other cities have developed with little or no urban planning. Cities like Karachi and Lahore are breaking under the weight of the country's ever expanding population.

Islamabad's order is far removed from the problems of 'real' Pakistan. Thus, by residing in Islamabad, Pakistani lawmakers and senior mandarins have little practical understanding of the life experienced by most Pakistanis.

Given Pakistan's multitude of serious problems, it is easy to understand why the Pakistani political elite might wish to insulate itself from the rest of the nation by sticking its head inside Islamabad's hallowed ground.

Unfortunately, Pakistan's problems are compounding to the extent that Islamabadis cannot hide from them any longer. Islamabad has electricity rationing like the rest of the country. Extremist mullahs make noise in Islamabad – even violently such as during the 2007 Lal Masjid incident, 2008 attack on Islamabad's Marriott Hotel, or most recently during protests in September 2012 against an allegedly blasphemous film – as in the rest of the country. Other ills plaguing Pakistan, including crime, inflation and unemployment, ultimately find themselves seeping through Islamabad's sterilized door.

Certainly, Islamabad is a nice showcase for Pakistan. But Islamabad is a foreign country. Pakistanis can only hope Prime Minister designate Nawaz Sharif's government will remember there is more to Pakistan than Islamabad (and Lahore).

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Imran is a business and management consultant. Through his work at Deodar Advisors and the Deodar Diagnostic, Imran improves profits of businesses operating in Singapore and the region. He can be reached at imran@deodaradvisors.com. 

Reflections from Pakistan X: Lahore’s Mogul heritage

"His eyes might there command whatever stood
City of old or modern fame, the seat
Of mightiest empire, from the destined walls
Of Cambalu, seat of Cathian Can,
And Samarcand by Oxus, Temir's throne,
To Paquin of Sinaen Kings, and thence
To Agra and Lahore of Great Mogul..."

John Milton, Paradise Lost.

Lahore is more than just the city of my mother's birth. It is one city in Pakistan which inherited a significant heritage from the Mogul Empire. The numbers of major and minor Mogul monuments in the city are counted by the dozens. The major architectural sites include the Shalimar Gardens, the Lahore Fort with its Sheesh Mahal (Palace of Mirrors) and Emperor Jahangir's tomb.

From the time that Central Asian warlord, Babur, found his way to Delhi's throne in 1526, it was some years before Lahore got the attention it deserved. Lahore perhaps first came into prominence during Emperor Jahangir's rule (1605-27). Jahangir was the fourth king and son of the Mogul-e-Azam, Akbar.

Emperor Jahangir, the fourth Mogul Emperor and son of Mogul-e-Azam Akbar

One of the lesser known Moguls, perhaps Jahangir's wisest act of state was not to interfere too much with the Empire's machinery he inherited from his father, Akbar. In 1605, the year Jahangir ascended the throne, the Mogul Empire was well established although still expanding its borders geographically. The treasury's coffers were well supplied with revenue from taxation and tributes received from vassal states.

A financially stable empire permitted Jahangir to pursue his interests in arts and culture – and remain inebriated for most of his waking hours! Consequently, while Jahangir's wife (or mother) was running affairs of state Jahangir remained busy enjoying nature, hunting and patronizing the arts.

Possibly due to his love of nature, Jahangir travelled frequently from the Empire's administrative capital in Delhi to Srinagar, Kashmir. Fortunately for Lahoris, the most convenient route to the Kashmiri city went through Lahore. Consequently, Lahore received a fair amount of time and attention from the Jahangir.  

In 1606, some of the King's time was spent constructing 'Hiran Minar' or 'The Deer / Antelope Minaret.' Hiran Minar is a pavilion set in a body of water. The site is dedicated to honouring the memory of the Emperor's pet antelope, Mansraj. To Lahoris, Hiran Minar is just another picnic spot.

Hiran Minar: located on the outskirts of Lahore

In 1627, while en route to Kashmir, Jahangir died at the age of 57. Fittingly, Jahangir is buried in Lahore. In Mogul style, Jahangir's mausoleum is surrounded by lavish gardens creating another recreation spot for Lahoris and tourists alike.

The Mogul fascination with Lahore did not die with Jahangir. It lasted until near the end of the empire. The last of the 'Great Moguls,' Aurangzeb, built the famous Badshahi Masjid – an icon and landmark for modern Lahore. The mosque can accommodate 100,000 worshippers in its prayer halls and courtyard.

Lahore is neither Pakistan's capital nor its commercial hub. However, the capital of Punjab province has rightfully staked a claim as the country's cultural center. One hopes the present generation of Lahoris will do justice to the deeds of their ancestors.

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Imran is a business and management consultant. Through his work at Deodar Advisors and the Deodar Diagnostic, Imran improves profits of businesses operating in Singapore and the region. He can be reached at imran@deodaradvisors.com. 

Reflections from Pakistan IX: Lahore and the 1971 Indo-Pak War

From Pakistan's agricultural heartland of Multan, I travelled to Lahore. As a die-hard Karachite, Lahore always evokes mixed feelings within me. There is the nascent emotion, fuelled by some politicians and segments of the media, of Punjabi perceived hegemony over other parts of Pakistan. Punjab's rise as a major industrial and commercial region in the 1990s, mainly at Karachi's expense, also does nothing to soothe my fears, particularly if Punjab's economic emergence is viewed as an offshoot of the Nawaz Sharif's clan's nepotism.

However, common sense brings me back to reality. By population, Punjab is Pakistan's largest province. It is natural (and logical) that Punjab will play a significant role in the country's affairs, through enlistment in the bureaucracy and the military.

The 'hot button' issues between Punjab and the 'others' pertain to allocation of power and money - matters such as the use of the fast depleting water resources of the Indus River or the federal government powers to collect tax across the four provinces. (The 'others' in the debate being Pakistan's less populated provinces of Balochistan, Khyber Pukhtoonkhwa and Sindh.)

For the moment, I will resist the temptation to jump into the fray and allow the Council of Common Interests to ensure an equitable arrangement for Pakistan's population. I admit, it is a dangerous act –almost treason – to leave such a seminal matter to Zaradari and his henchmen but there are enough vocal critics around the country to give me solace in my silence.

Back to Lahore. My mother is from Lahore. In fact, her family's ancestry places her on the fringes of Lahore's nobility. My grandfather, Sheikh Azimullah, was one of colonial India's first Muslim lawyers. 'Native' lawyers were rare a hundred or so years ago.

As an anti-colonialist, he fought for change in a sustainable manner, through the system. His pragmatic acceptance of the British colonial system is evidenced by his appointment as the Mayor of Lahore by the British. However, as a Muslim intellectual, he rubbed shoulders with Allama Iqbal – the spiritual Godfather of independent Pakistan – and devoted significant efforts towards the uplift of the subcontinent's Muslim community. For this purpose, he founded several educational and charitable institutions.

But my Lahore is different from my grandfather's Lahore. To me, Lahore is where I witnessed the 1971 Indo-Pak war: a modern legacy of hatred born in the post-colonial era.

1971 was an exciting time to be an ignorant five year old boy. At the time, the implications of war and the reality of violence were unknown to me. I never even knew when the war started or ended.  

For me the war was symbolized by the freshly dug trench in our garden, to be used in case of an air raid on the city. It seemed natural for me to watch an Indian air force plane being downed by a Pakistani fighter jet during a dogfight witnessed from our kitchen door. Even a five year old boy could recognize the green and white decals on a Pakistan Air Force plane. (At the time, Pakistan had access to superior Western military technology and was part of the 'Free World.' India, meanwhile, was an ally of communist Soviet Union and India's relations with the West were tense.)  

But my memories of Lahore are much more than simply the 1971 war.

As any young boy in Lahore, I flew kites any chance I got. I will never forget the day a huge kite – the obvious loser in a neighbourhood 'pecha' or kite fight – flew unclaimed into our garden. To this five year old, it was the largest kite ever.

A man cooking breakfast inside the old, walled city of Lahore

Today's Lahore retains some of yesterday's character. The enclosed walled city of the Mogul's still exists. The Shalimar Gardens and Emperor Jahangir's tombs stand. Nonetheless, in so many other ways Lahore is just another of Pakistan's cities. Traffic is horrendous. Population pressures are everywhere. The infrastructure is under serious stress.

Perhaps the best way to describe Lahore is that it is not Karachi! Karachi is a 'youngish' free for all where few have the time to worry about others. Lahore seeps history from its pores and is a goldfish bowl. Everyone watches everyone watching everyone.  

In Lahore, families have histories. Relatives matter. Etiquette and protocol are important. Traditions have faded but not disappeared. For those wishing to escape Lahore's traditions (or family pressures), there still remains the nuclear option: up and move to Karachi.

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Imran is a business and management consultant. Through his work at Deodar Advisors and the Deodar Diagnostic, Imran improves profits of businesses operating in Singapore and the region. He can be reached at imran@deodaradvisors.com.