Dera Ismail (DI) Khan is a typically rural town located west of River Indus, on the fringes of development. The British built it as a major garrison town for their campaigns into Mehsud tribal territory and conquest of Balochistan from the direction of Zhob. A part of Punjab under the British Raj inhabited mostly by Seraiki speaking population was placed under the Frontier government administration through a curious arrangement, in which the District of Mianwali was given over to Punjab in return. There is a not-so-unspoken ethnic alienation between DI Khan and the rest of its foster province, which shows itself in a number of ways. Muharram in that city had always been full of tensions and at times casualties. In 1993, the local district administration had just been overhauled and was feeling quite apprehensive as Muharram approached. Troops were expected to be placed on a short notice in anticipation of a possible law and order situation arising beyond the capability of the local police and the Frontier Constabulary. The deputy commissioner (DC) was a promising civil service officer determined to maintain local peace as much as he could. He arranged ‘administrative removal’ of most of the likely sectarian flame-throwers, for the remaining fire spouts an ingenious but simple plan was devised. The troops and officers earmarked for the duty were firmly instructed to prevent damage to life and public property regardless of who the offender was. The civil administration quietly spread the word. The plan so conceived was to do a few vehicle mounted flag marches before and during Ashur with full weaponry on display around the city and the vicinity of Paharpur and Bilot, two other communally charged towns. Place the troops in pre-selected positions as force-in-being while the police and the Frontier Constabulary will conduct street-patrolling and man checkposts. Then on the morning of the last day, make a high profile flag march over the main route through the city. As the streets were narrow, the troops used jeeps mounted with weapons. The DC hopped alongside the force commander in the leading jeep for added emphasis. The plan worked wonderfully, deterrence was the major effect achieved. It was a perfectly peaceful Muharram and so had been the next few. One came to like the ways of the Frontier Constabulary through working with them during these Muharram duties. This force was raised by the British from local tribes, each platoon drawn from one particular family or sub-tribe, therefore bound by blood kinship in loyalty. Trained, commanded and administered like the army, officered by Police Service officers, it was kept away from usual policing duties of the urban districts. This insulation from usually corrupting influences and the nature of their Spartan and isolated duties on remote fortress-like posts on the fringes of the Tribal Areas helped develop their peculiar culture. A healthy self-reliance, binding comradeship, a very strong sense of responsibility and loyalty along with almost a casual disregard to imminent danger are their hallmarks. Due to peculiarly upturned sides of their hats, they are affectionately called ‘hares’; local legend advises a respectful distance from these deadly ‘hares ‘and never to cross their path in anger. The 1993 election was a rather anxious time as the Brigade troops were perforce spread all over, distributed in virtual twos and threes in polling stations, backed up by sizeable mobile reserves suitably located in sub-sectors. Army troops were beefed up by assigning troops from the Constabulary, which turned out to be a particularly fine arrangement as their deterrent reputation and knowledge of the area were very desirable assets. They were commanded in the district by a very capable SP level police officer (Khurshid Alam Khan) known as the DOFC or the Commandant. For the Constabulary his orders are final, which none except he himself can overturn. I did not tamper with their chain of command and it paid dividends. They performed admirably well. The Frontier Constabulary is a thoroughly dependable force but deadly if distracted or employed on ill-conceived duties and poorly led. Section 144 had been imposed throughout DI Khan Division banning public display of weapons just before the elections. On a routine drive close to Sherani tribal territory, I came across a shepherd carrying a rifle tending his flock of sheep. A close scrutiny revealed that the shepherd’s ammunition belt had almost all the bullets of the wrong calibre. This was an extraordinary omission from one of a thoroughbred warlike people. When pointed out, an impish smile crackled on his rugged face. Actually he had borrowed the rifle and the cartridge belt from friends as a deterrent precaution against aggressive Powinda herdsmen. Bold ruses are needed some time to avoid a direct confrontation. Powinda herdsmen have traditionally clashed with local shepherds over the right to graze in already scarce pastures here but not too seriously. On the way back the next day I passed through one of the more volatile villages of the area called Rori. In the village square I noticed two young men, tanned, dusty and a bit weary carrying rifles slung across their shoulders. When asked to explain the violation, it transpired that the young men had just returned from their mountain meadows after grazing their flocks for the last two weeks and were not aware of the imposition of ban in their absence. Their earnest faces were a convincing indication of the plausibility of the excuse. They were allowed to proceed home with caution. A little sensitivity and patient understanding are more useful than the full weight of the law. In 1994, monsoons and hill torrents hit DI Khan and its surrounding villages with great ferocity playing havoc with crops, villages, irrigation canals and livestock. Flood warning stations at Gomal exit had long been out of action due to neglect and disuse. The army was called out for flood relief duties. The soldiers carried cooked meals and medicines for the flood affectees out of their own stocks initially. The civil administration began dumping food, medicines and tentage at conveniently accessible places where ministers and TV teams could easily reach. The troops travelled by boat in foaming, furious waters, trudged kilometre upon kilometre through knee-deep mud carrying rations and medicines to the needy on their backs. A village was seriously threatened by flood waters whose level was rising. An irrigation bund had to be breached to save the village. The only dozers in the area were in the custody of a famous Gandapur Sardar from a nearby village called Kulachi. The district administration could not get the dozers released from the powerful man. A raiding party was organised to capture and commandeer a dozer from the Sardar’s private custody. The much-needed dozer was brought in under an armed escort by the soldiers, breach affected and the village saved. In this very constituency terror was so pervasive that the local administration nearly gave up just before the 1993 election for fear of a large band of notorious proclaimed offenders collected by him. A firm message from the Brigade Commander emphasising unequal ‘balance of armed terror’ between the two convinced the Sardar of the army’s resolve to hold the elections unhampered. Impulse-driven, I parked myself in the Sardar’s village on both election days for good measure. It passed off as one of the most peaceful elections in this constituency in decades. That particular Sardar used to travel around in armour-plated jeeps mounted with automatics and light machine guns, reportedly under special permission. The spectacle was quite awesome in keeping with a score of men he was reported to have gunned down in just one day a decade or so ago. The grand old Gandapur Sardar is believed to have died a few years ago. The writer is a retired brigadier of the Pakistan Army. He can be reached at clay.potter@hotmail.com