“In a country still in the backyard of political, educational and economic development, the military and the bureaucracy — the pillars of the outgoing colonial power — emerge as the embodiment of all authority, power and perfection. The military establishment, as the best-organised and disciplined legacy of colonial rule, lends itself admirably to the professional image-building of the post-independence period and in due course of time, the military image emerges as the most dominant image towering over the national image itself” (The Military in Pakistan: Image and Reality by the writer). Military service was not only the source of livelihood for the soldier but also a matter of honour and source of pride. The ordinary folk of the Punjab and the North West Frontier idolised the image of the soldier. The Punjabi sister would dream of her valiant brother as a soldier leading the British Army in action (Agge agge veer lare/ pichhel Fauj angrezan ni). Up in the rugged Frontier, the beloved exhorted her soldier-lover in the following refrain: O valiant one/ On whose courage I have staked all/ Go forth to battle /Watched by maidens fair/ Whilst the light of love doesn’t wait/ Wait for victory and thy return (Morche t zar kheza janana, ma di pa sar bande ekhudi di shartuna). As a highly disciplined force, the army had been a strictly professional and a political force in the tradition of the pre-partition British Indian Army. In their new habitat Pakistan, especially in its western wing, the taproot of military recruitment, the military found itself as the most dominant single force. The only other institution, comparable to the military in organisation and discipline happened to be the Indian Civil Service (ICS), later the Civil Service of Pakistan (CSP). However, the civil service had no control over the instruments of violence except in terms of the paperwork involved in considering military proposals, issuing government letters after approving the proposals with a query or two noted in the margin to underline their authority. As for the political elements, barring exceptions that were very few and far between, they were on the whole a miserable lot with little competence and still less integrity to govern. The army enjoyed a reputation and image far exceeding its size and effectiveness. It came to the new country riding on the crest of a wave in the wake of its massive work through the refugee rescue and relief operations. The army, so to say, ‘stood between the life and death of Muslims in East Punjab and Delhi’. Even the first Independence Day reception, August 14, 1947, was marked by a frank exchange of views between the Quaid and a number of service officers attending the function. It underscored three crucial points fundamental to the new state. 1.The nature of civil-military relations. 2. Absolute civilian supremacy over the military establishment. 3. The burgeoning ambition of the military officers concerned for quick promotions to higher posts after the retirement of senior British officers at the earliest. It needs to be noted that quick promotions of young officers creates just the right environment to fan their political ambition and ultimate involvement in politics. Thus the power virus attacked the minds of the young commanders at the very outset. Air Marshal Asghar Khan records the following episode in one of his earlier works, Pakistan at the Crossroads. “The Quaid had hardly moved towards a group of officers in military uniform when he was surrounded by a young attentive audience. It was perhaps his first experience of conversing informally with a group of military officers and he appeared to show more than ordinary interest in those around him. If this was his first such experience, it was also the first time that such a large group of service officers had been able to meet so distinguished a national figure. It was their first opportunity to hear his thoughts on some of the problems, which were uppermost in their minds. The Quaid had been too absorbed in the political struggle for the creation of Pakistan to have given as much thought to the armed forces as to some of his other more pressing problems. It had also not been desirable politically that he should seek out military men and discuss matters of policy with them until the new state had been created. He talked briefly and in short sentences about general topics, and as the conversation began to flag, he appeared to be about to move on to talk to some of his other guests. Just then, one of the more senior of the group sought his permission to express his views on certain matters of national importance. The Quaid, who had been doing most of the talking, was probably glad to have someone else make conversation. He nodded and the officer, who had apparently been waiting for this opportunity, said his piece: ‘This is a great day for us,’ he said, ‘in which, we the Armed Forces, take as much pride as the civilians who have struggled under your leadership to make this day possible. Pakistan, however, has been created in response to an urge and in order to fulfill the aspirations of its people.’ The Quaid, for the first time since he joined the group, was beginning to show an interest in the conversation. His eyes became more intent and his expression one of expectancy. He appeared to be listening with interest to what this young officer had to say. ‘One of the important purposes in the creation of this state,’ he continued, ‘is to provide us an opportunity to shape the country in accordance with our own special requirements, our own beliefs and our own talents. Our people have an inherent genius which should be allowed to flower.’ The Quaid’s interest appeared by now to have been aroused and he was listening attentively. The officer who spoke held the Quaid’s attention and that of the others in the group.” (To be continued) The writer is a retired brigadier and can be reached at brigsiddiqi@yahoo.co.uk