Storming of Gulberg Police Station

It was evening time on the day before Eid (1992) when the phone rang. On the other end was our intelligence officer breaking bad news as usual. According to him, a group of 50-60 young officers armed with hockey sticks, tent poles and possibly one or two handguns had “just left a Cavalry Ground Officers Mess Lahore Cantt to attack Liberty Gulberg Police Station”. The reason, as discussed in their meeting, was that two young officers from a tank unit in Lahore were publicly beaten up in Liberty Market under the personal instructions and presence of Inspector Danyal, in-charge of Gulberg Police Station, on the night before. This inspector was a young brat, son of a favourite bureaucrat, directly inducted after bending rules. A particularly obnoxious character inflicted upon the people of Gulberg by the then rulers of Lahore as a sign of their royal style of arbitrary governance. Gulberg was his police station of choice where he strutted around like a Mughal kotwaal (police officer).

The ‘invasion force’ had left around eight that evening and would be about to storm the police station by then. This was real trouble of the familiar pattern — the army versus the police — about to be replayed. The difference was that this time I was to be in the jug directly.

Corps Commander and other senior officers had gone to Gujranwala Cantonment to attend a function. Chief of Army Staff (COAS) General Asif Nawaz was also there and was to visit Lahore the next day. Quickly getting into uniform, I rushed to the Corps Headquarters summoning both commanding officers of the Military Police (MP) and the Intelligence Battalions and my very capable GSO-I (retired as a 3-star) to the office in the process. This ‘command group’ was soon in action; we devised a plan to tackle the possible reaction and contain the damage. The Intelligence Battalion was tasked to send their video cameramen in the guise of press to film the proceedings and the MP to throw a cordon around the police station area to prevent the conflict spreading out or outside interference. We estimated the raid to be over in 15-20 minutes, i.e. before we could reach them, yet the MP were instructed to prevail upon the officers to desist from destruction if possible. The action was over in less than half an hour as anticipated. Regretfully, the police station was in utter shambles — the raiders gave a thorough drubbing to Inspector Danyal and carried him away with them. By then the Brigade Commander (retired as a 4-star) and Commanding Officer of the aggrieved officers had already joined me in the office. The first task was to know the whereabouts of Inspector Danyal and to see those two officers. Shortly the officers were brought in who disclosed that Inspector Danyal was offloaded in one living piece on a roadside in Cavalry Ground, being of no further use. I dispatched their Commanding Officer to take the inspector to a civil hospital along with our own doctor in civvies, see that he was properly attended to and obtain medical report from that hospital, which was duly done.

The two officers involved were asked to narrate the whole incident truthfully if they expected to be helped, which one believes they did. It was a tale of hot blood and indiscretion, overstepping authority and reaction to a public disgrace — standard ingredients of a familiar clash between the Khaki and the Grey. At the end of the narration, I could only say, “If you had asked me I would not have permitted you, but well done.” Ever present wild impulse and institutional compulsions were once again at work.

We were expecting the police’s ‘counter-offensive’ to be launched any time. I also knew that with Tariq Khosa in command, it was not going to be a rash one. Therefore, no general caution was issued nor any reaction force made ready. The real danger was the flamboyant DIG Lahore who could react unpredictably. But one, he was not in town and two, Inspector Danyal was passionately despised by his own police force for a different set of reasons. This fact we had learnt from firsthand accounts of the officers. Sensibly, the young raiders did not rough up other policemen present in the police station. It was a surgical operation and the blow was delivered with speed and precision. Soon, the MP at the gate announced the arrival of SSP Lahore accompanied by two or three senior police officers.

This was it, the police offensive had begun. Our task was to contest it to the point of stalemate in order to gain time and regain balance. In his opening move, he demanded the custody of officers involved, expressing his apprehension that Inspector Danyal might have been killed or seriously wounded after his forcible abduction; and that the police had the right to register a case and interrogate the accused. This was a powerful and concentrated attack, which needed determination to withstand. They were duly offered chairs to sit and a cup of tea was promptly served. I replied by saying, “As far as Inspector Danyal is concerned, he is alive and presently admitted in Gulab Devi Hospital. As regards officers, they are not handed over to the police for investigation of minor offences. Now let’s discuss the situation from this point onwards.” In about two hours the police offensive began to wane and finally it recoiled. SSP Lahore left along with his storm troopers by re-emphasising “justice should be done and a joint court of inquiry should be held”. I assured him solemnly that it would be. Once again we parted as friends. A joint court of inquiry was eventually constituted but the Lahore Police failed to follow up the proceedings for good reason and the matter fizzled out amicably.

It was during this animated exchange that the phone rang once again, the operator informed that the army chief wanted to talk. Meanwhile, we had kept our Corps Commander at Gujranwala apprised of the evolving situation and our responses. There was a pin-drop silence in the room. I listened very attentively to the COAS. In his typically crisp but frank style he inquired, “Young man, what is happening in Lahore?” I gave a brief but precise description of the unfolding episode and added, “The situation is under control and we will be able to handle it. Detailed report will be put up to you upon your arrival in Lahore tomorrow, sir.” The COAS remarked, “Good. See that the officers are not harassed,” and hung up. This was an endorsement and approval of Corps responses and our line of action by the COAS. I have a suspicion that the audience in the room could overhear what the COAS said. It had a salutary effect on the immediate proceedings. But more than that, very soon the COAS’s caring remarks were known all over the army, which endeared him to the officers and men that much more.

Late General Asif Nawaz possessed the gift of personal charisma and the knack of direct but dignified interaction with those under his command, which is one of the traits of distinguished military leaders. Under his stern exterior and piercing blue gaze was a compassionate, trusting and uncomplicated army chief who commanded instant and willing obedience from his subordinates. His untimely death extinguished the rising hopes of a possible paradigm change in the army culture, among other things.

It was evening time on the day before
Eid (1992) when the phone rang. On the other end was our intelligence officer breaking bad news as usual. According to him, a group of 50-60 young officers armed with hockey sticks, tent poles and possibly one or two handguns had “just left a Cavalry Ground Officers Mess Lahore Cantt to attack Liberty Gulberg Police Station”. The reason, as discussed in their meeting, was that two young officers from a tank unit in Lahore were publicly beaten up in Liberty Market under the personal instructions and presence of Inspector Danyal, in-charge of Gulberg Police Station, on the night before. This inspector was a young brat, son of a favourite bureaucrat, directly inducted after bending rules. A particularly obnoxious character inflicted upon the people of Gulberg by the then rulers of Lahore as a sign of their royal style of arbitrary governance. Gulberg was his police station of choice where he strutted around like a Mughal kotwaal (police officer).

The ‘invasion force’ had left around eight that evening and would be about to storm the police station by then. This was real trouble of the familiar pattern — the army versus the police — about to be replayed. The difference was that this time I was to be in the jug directly.

Corps Commander and other senior officers had gone to Gujranwala Cantonment to attend a function. Chief of Army Staff (COAS) General Asif Nawaz was also there and was to visit Lahore the next day. Quickly getting into uniform, I rushed to the Corps Headquarters summoning both commanding officers of the Military Police (MP) and the Intelligence Battalions and my very capable GSO-I (retired as a 3-star) to the office in the process. This ‘command group’ was soon in action; we devised a plan to tackle the possible reaction and contain the damage. The Intelligence Battalion was tasked to send their video cameramen in the guise of press to film the proceedings and the MP to throw a cordon around the police station area to prevent the conflict spreading out or outside interference. We estimated the raid to be over in 15-20 minutes, i.e. before we could reach them, yet the MP were instructed to prevail upon the officers to desist from destruction if possible. The action was over in less than half an hour as anticipated. Regretfully, the police station was in utter shambles — the raiders gave a thorough drubbing to Inspector Danyal and carried him away with them. By then the Brigade Commander (retired as a 4-star) and Commanding Officer of the aggrieved officers had already joined me in the office. The first task was to know the whereabouts of Inspector Danyal and to see those two officers. Shortly the officers were brought in who disclosed that Inspector Danyal was offloaded in one living piece on a roadside in Cavalry Ground, being of no further use. I dispatched their Commanding Officer to take the inspector to a civil hospital along with our own doctor in civvies, see that he was properly attended to and obtain medical report from that hospital, which was duly done.

The two officers involved were asked to narrate the whole incident truthfully if they expected to be helped, which one believes they did. It was a tale of hot blood and indiscretion, overstepping authority and reaction to a public disgrace — standard ingredients of a familiar clash between the Khaki and the Grey. At the end of the narration, I could only say, “If you had asked me I would not have permitted you, but well done.” Ever present wild impulse and institutional compulsions were once again at work.

We were expecting the police’s ‘counter-offensive’ to be launched any time. I also knew that with Tariq Khosa in command, it was not going to be a rash one. Therefore, no general caution was issued nor any reaction force made ready. The real danger was the flamboyant DIG Lahore who could react unpredictably. But one, he was not in town and two, Inspector Danyal was passionately despised by his own police force for a different set of reasons. This fact we had learnt from firsthand accounts of the officers. Sensibly, the young raiders did not rough up other policemen present in the police station. It was a surgical operation and the blow was delivered with speed and precision. Soon, the MP at the gate announced the arrival of SSP Lahore accompanied by two or three senior police officers.

This was it, the police offensive had begun. Our task was to contest it to the point of stalemate in order to gain time and regain balance. In his opening move, he demanded the custody of officers involved, expressing his apprehension that Inspector Danyal might have been killed or seriously wounded after his forcible abduction; and that the police had the right to register a case and interrogate the accused. This was a powerful and concentrated attack, which needed determination to withstand. They were duly offered chairs to sit and a cup of tea was promptly served. I replied by saying, “As far as Inspector Danyal is concerned, he is alive and presently admitted in Gulab Devi Hospital. As regards officers, they are not handed over to the police for investigation of minor offences. Now let’s discuss the situation from this point onwards.” In about two hours the police offensive began to wane and finally it recoiled. SSP Lahore left along with his storm troopers by re-emphasising “justice should be done and a joint court of inquiry should be held”. I assured him solemnly that it would be. Once again we parted as friends. A joint court of inquiry was eventually constituted but the Lahore Police failed to follow up the proceedings for good reason and the matter fizzled out amicably.

It was during this animated exchange that the phone rang once again, the operator informed that the army chief wanted to talk. Meanwhile, we had kept our Corps Commander at Gujranwala apprised of the evolving situation and our responses. There was a pin-drop silence in the room. I listened very attentively to the COAS. In his typically crisp but frank style he inquired, “Young man, what is happening in Lahore?” I gave a brief but precise description of the unfolding episode and added, “The situation is under control and we will be able to handle it. Detailed report will be put up to you upon your arrival in Lahore tomorrow, sir.” The COAS remarked, “Good. See that the officers are not harassed,” and hung up. This was an endorsement and approval of Corps responses and our line of action by the COAS. I have a suspicion that the audience in the room could overhear what the COAS said. It had a salutary effect on the immediate proceedings. But more than that, very soon the COAS’s caring remarks were known all over the army, which endeared him to the officers and men that much more.

Late General Asif Nawaz possessed the gift of personal charisma and the knack of direct but dignified interaction with those under his command, which is one of the traits of distinguished military leaders. Under his stern exterior and piercing blue gaze was a compassionate, trusting and uncomplicated army chief who commanded instant and willing obedience from his subordinates. His untimely death extinguished the rising hopes of a possible paradigm change in the army culture, among other things.

 

The writer is a retired brigadier of the Pakistan Army. He can be reached at clay.potter@hotmail.com