Sindh Diary: MQM: a spoiler or saviour of democracy?
Part 2
By Saeed Minhas
KARACHI: From only six to 25 seats in the National Assembly and from one to six senators in 30 years, the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) is a force to reckon with in our electoral politics, and no matter what their perception is, they have gathered so much currency in the national polity that they cannot be left out of the federal government or the Sindh government – at least not in the last eight years.
Critics claim that the MQM would not survive without the abodes of power because they have been accused of almost everything under the sun – from arson, ransom and torture to kidnapping and political blackmailing, ever since its rise to the national scene. But MNA Haider Abbass Rizvi – one of the top negotiators of the party at the federal level –rebukes such claims, saying, “We are ready to sit on the opposition benches, but then the same critics would blame us for destabilising the government and call us spoilers, and as for the accusations, one should look at the evolution of the party and circumstances we had to go through before pointing fingers at us.”
“After the 2008 general elections,” he went on, “We were happily assessing the situation without joining the government and watching the Nawaz-PPP wedlock coalition. But, when Nawaz opted to leave, we could have let the government fall or save democracy by giving them a shoulder, and so we did it in the larger interest of democracy, not for our own privileges and perks,” he reminded in his usual rebuffing way.
“How many ministries have we got, just two, and look at those who have a much less number in both the houses, but still managed to get more ministries than us,” referring to the JUI-F or maybe the ANP without naming either of them, adding, “Why, because we didn’t join the government for ministries, but for our voters.”
Two digits – Nine Zero – have became a symbol of the MQM powerhouse throughout the country, but they have nothing to do with any building in the area, rather they are the last two digits of Altaf Hussain’s personal telephone number. During both the military operations in the area, party workers used these two digits to identify the residence of the party leader or exchange a coded message. Spanning around two square kilometres in the Azizabad area with the famous fist erected on the entrance of its roundabout, it is perhaps the most guarded place after the Red Zone of Islamabad. Amidst a crowded and pegged 120-yard housing unit, this area consists of the dwelling of Altaf Hussain, the party’s central secretariat and an MPA hostel, which has now been converted into a state-of-the-art media centre.
The area of the party’s headquarters is also considered by many observers as the stock exchange of our national polity where power-mongering political big-wigs, at the turn of every election or dawn of every new Khaki-Boss, converge to trade shares and encash political dividends. Another distinction of Nine Zero is that it has also been the target of two famous military operations in 1992 and 1997 by both major political parties – the PPP and the PML-N – besides being the hotbed of a rivalry between the Altaf and Afaq factions of the MQM throughout the 1990s.
My first visit to this place was in 1993 when I was escorted by khaki officers through the streets of Azizabad and various parts of the Federal B Area – two dwellings encircling Nine Zero. During the visit, when being from Punjab and carrying a mixture of inhibitions and half-truths about the MQM, I could feel, and sometimes smell, hatred oozing from the survivors of the mili-operation – mostly women and children. The journalist corps was not allowed to talk to any of them and even if someone played smart to approach these zombie-like residents, they refused to talk, knowing that we belong to the same Punjabi-Pashtun nexus, who unleashed a deadly operation on them.
Now, 17 years down the road, revisiting the heavily barricaded area with rangers and city police pickets on almost every nook and corner of Azizabad, private guards pointing automatic guns at you from behind their sand-bagged posts and an armed youngster wearing jeans and chappal – sandals – operating the slings of iron-barricades was something worth noticing.
Inside these barricaded streets, life looked quite normal. Children playing around, elected MPs and even some provincial ministers sitting on roadside tea stalls and one cannot ignore the stark difference between the outside and the inside world of Nine Zero. “These barricades are the reason that you can see everyone living and roaming here freely, because law and order has become so bad outside these barricades that everyone is afraid of removing these iron blocks and our dedicated armed youth guards,” commented my escorts from the MQM’s media team. Who has made life so difficult outside is a question answered by the Rabita Committee, in the words, “It’s the establishment.” Despite being a part of the provincial establishment, none of the MQM leaders agreed that they can improve the situation alone, unless given complete control of the province or would wait for their turn to take the control in the coming years through the power of ballot.
* To be continued
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