The squandered legacy of statecraft

Ethno-lingual identity has never been my concern. However, as the descendant of an Urdu-speaking migrant from India, my cultural background remains a frequent point of reflection. Growing up in Karachi, I often experienced the subtle social frictions and distinct dynamics that exist between native communities and migrant families. Over time, these differences highlight a unique historical contrast: while the local Sindhi community served as generous hosts, many migrants arrived with formal educational backgrounds that allowed them to actively shape Pakistan's early administrative and civil services. The migrants, mocked as mohajirs (refugees), prided themselves in their culture of Oudh, Osmania's Hyderabad, Lucknow, the State of Madras, Bihar and Kavi Narmad's Gujarat. For them Bahadur Shah Zafar, Rani of Jhansi, Nawab Osman Ali Khan, Mir Anees, Mirza Ghalib and Rabindranath Tagore were proprietary legends. It is a fact that 'men of pen' came from India to form the backbone of Pakistan's infant bureaucracy. Many were from the prestigious ICS and IAS cadres, and moved to the new-born state in pursuit of political pluralism, hoping for a career and identity that is professional to the core. These officers were lucky enough to be buckled up with a great number of junior associates who were well-versed in writing English prose, and understood the ethics of office management. They started from scratch, and the tale has it that they bought pens and stationery, at times, on their own. Some of the migrated stalwarts who rubbed shoulders in the highest echelons with Muhammad Ali Jinnah included Chaudhry Muhammad Ali; Mian Kifait Ali; Ghulam Muhammad, an ICS officer from Aligarh who became Pakistan's third Governor-General; Akhter Hussain; and Iskander Mirza, a Sandhurst-cum-IPS officer from Hyderabad Deccan who served as the first President of Pakistan. The pool of immeasurable talent comprised Abbas Khalili of Shirazi dynasty who was reckoned as a pioneer in industrial and administrative development of early Pakistan. He was the first civilian to aid Field Marshal Ayub's Khan's cabinet, and is recognised as the founder of SITE and KDA. It is said that Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru came to Palam Airport to request Khalili to stay back. The billionaire from Tamil Nadu abandoned everything to choose Pakistan. The Mirza Ispahanis, who gave Orient Airways to the nascent state; Raja Amir Ahmed Khan of Mahmudabad, who opened his treasure troves to fund the nascent state; MA Habib of the Habib Group; and Agha Hasan Abedi of BCCI fame are unforgettable contributors. Valika, Adamjee, Dawood, Bawany too were cardinals in development. I will surely fall short of knowledge if I attempt to name all of these luminaries. Yet, I seek to recall as many of them as possible to eulogise a forgotten community. Agha Shahi from Mysore served as the Foreign Minister under General Zia-ul-Haq; his brother, Agha Hilaly, an ICS officer from Bangalore, was an equally distinguished diplomat. Nagpur's M Ikramullah, Pakistan's first Foreign Secretary, was the sibling of the renowned jurist Sir Mohammad Hidayatullah, who became the Vice-President of India in 1979. Bihar's SK Dehlavi, an ICS officer, is credited with transitioning Pakistan's civil services, while Bengal's JA Rahim, also an ICS officer, is remembered as the architect behind Zulfikar Ali Bhutto's rise to power and the PPP's first Secretary-General. From Ambala came the illustrious Qudratullah Shahab, who held the unique distinction of serving as the Principal Secretary to three heads of state and authored the seminal Shahab Nama. Finally, Abu Talib Naqvi, an ICS officer and Magistrate of Aligarh from 1942 to 1947, became the Chief Commissioner of Karachi during the 1950s and is remembered for convincing the legendary Urdu poet Josh Malihabadi to migrate to Pakistan in 1955. Among other learned, Urdu-speaking jewels was Lucknow's Syed Hashim Raza, an ICS officer who served as the first Administrator of Karachi and later as the Governor of East Pakistan. His brother, Syed Kazim Raza of the Indian Police, migrated to Pakistan as an SP and went on to become an IG and the second Director of the Intelligence Bureau from 1949 to 1953. The group also included Hadi Hussain and Usman Ali from Madras, who were both civil servants and the scions of the revered Shia scholar Shamsul Ulema Syed Hasan Raza. Furthermore, ZA Bokhari - brother of the legendary writer Patras Bokhari - became the first Director-General of Radio Pakistan. Amritsar's Aziz Ahmed, an ICS officer, later served as the Foreign Secretary under ZA Bhutto, while East Punjab's Qazi Nawaz Khan served as a Revenue Collector. Finally, Karnataka's Qamar-ul Islam distinguished himself as an ambassador and as the Deputy Chairman of Pakistan's Planning Commission from 1971 to 1973. These officers instilled professionalism and the core values of meritocracy. The mohajir community, however - despite being the descendants of this educated tribe - could not sustain that momentum in later decades. Their prospects of rising to the higher cadres of the bureaucracy steadily diminished. Since the 1970s, ethnic radicalism has pitted the Urdu-speaking community against local Sindhis, culminating in the 1972 Sindhi Language Bill riots. These events tragically shifted the entire paradigm, permanently altering the political identity and destiny of the migrants. The quota disparity for Sindh, embedded in the 1973 Constitution for a period of 10 years, cemented the ethnic divide. The SPSC became a tool to further ethnic nepotism, and Urdu-speakers were discriminated against in jobs. Likewise, the Sindh quota had a unique formula, which was further subdivided into 40% urban and 60% rural in federal jobs. Mohajirs felt the bite, as for them the Bhutto era and the subsequent martial law blocked the path of social mobility in federal services. The intellectual decline of the mohajir community had begun. Their inclination toward the CSS exams slumped by 10% between the 1970s and 1980s. The once-learned community began resigning itself to its fate. Meanwhile, the MQM, as the sole political voice of the mohajirs, did nothing to bridge this widening gap, remaining preoccupied with its own political maneuvers. As government jobs took a back seat, Mohajir graduates pivoted toward medicine, engineering, law and entrepreneurship. Tragically, this shift took a more lethal turn as many youth succumbed to street crime and the politics of violence, plunging the community deep into parochialism. This impasse must end. Mohajirs must reclaim their affinity for the civil service by raising their educational standards. Their forefathers left an indelible mark on Pakistan's once-enterprising bureaucracy. Returning to officialdom with those same ethics and standards will go a long way in ushering in a renewed sense of belonging with the republic, allowing the community to become a valuable participant in national decision-making. It is high time for Urdu-speaking intellectuals, peers and political circles to kickstart a renaissance in thought.