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Random thoughts
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Dr A Q Khan
There are some things in our lives that come to mind every now and then. Some are pleasant, others quite painful. The pleasant ones make us feel happy. Unfortunately, these are usually rare and do not last long. Unpleasant and painful memories have the tendency to be long-lasting. We vividly remember those tough examinations we had to sit and those sleeping nights. Some events may have left such vivid memories that we can never forget them.
In my case, I have many pleasant memories. These are a constant source of happiness to me and offer tranquillity in times of stress. Some of them are the opportunity of acquiring an excellent education, marriage, the birth of our two daughters and their love, always being able to find respectful employment, the opportunity of being able to return to Pakistan and successfully complete what I came to do, i.e. building a team and to set up an enrichment plant, making Pakistan a nuclear power and providing the army with ballistic missiles for an impregnable defence. What stands out most in all these positives are the continuous messages of love and support I receive from the people of Pakistan –all the way from Peshawar to Gwadar.
One of my most painful memories is that of December 16, 1971 when our army was defeated and Gen Niazi signed the documents of surrender to Gen Arora of the Indian army. Every year the nearer December 16 comes, the more my heart sinks. Those who claim that it should be a thing of past should think again.
I had completed my PhD thesis in October 1971 and submitted it. Meanwhile I was preparing a research paper for publication and editing a book when Gen Tikka Khan started his military action in East Pakistan in March 1971. Along with many others, I believed that it was necessary to move against the subversive elements being supported by India. As facts emerged slowly on TV and in the newspapers, a dilemma arose.
I had seen army officers and jawans in 1959 when Gen Ayub Khan took over and had witnessed the respect they received. Now I was seeing with my own eyes the massacre of our Muslim brethren in East Pakistan, I was shocked to see the pictures of dead , mutilated bodies and, worst of all, half-eaten bodies of children being dragged by dogs. The teachers and students of university where I studied planned a large demonstration against Pakistan, but I managed to convince them that educational institutions should not indulge in politics. I had, once before, managed to boost Pakistan’s image. That was in 1965 when Pakistan and India were at war. Professor Dr De Jong, a noted historian, often discussed the Kashmir dispute and always gave the Indian point view. After I had sent to him the facts, he became more objective and gave our point of view as well.
Then came the ignominious day of December 16 1971, the darkest day of our history. The picture of Gen Niazi signing the surrender documents stayed in my mind’s eye for days, robbing me of my sleep and appetite and causing me to lose weight. There was nothing I could do. At the time of that disastrous military campaign, our great revolutionary poet, Habib Jalib, had said this: Mohabat golion se bo rahe ho/ watan ka chehra khoon se dho rhe ho; Guman tum ko ke rasta kat rha he/ yaqin mujh ko k manzil kho rhe ho
Later I read in the papers that the Pakistan army had rounded 100 Bengali intellectuals, shot them and then buried them in a mass grave in the suburbs of Dacca. Many other atrocious incidents came to light and were described by eye-witnesses. I had difficulty believing it all, but later when I came to Pakistan I heard from colleagues who had been there that most of those stories were more or less true. I was ashamed. History was repeating itself in the brutal burning and killing of young boys and girls in Lal Masjid by the army, using phosphorus bombs.
At the beginning of 1972, I went to Amsterdam, joined the FDO and started working on the enrichment-related technologies. When the Indians exploded their first nuclear device on May 18, 1974, I was convinced that if Pakistan did not take appropriate action, our fate would be sealed. I wrote to Mr Bhutto on September 17, 1974, and offered my services in setting up a nuclear-weapons programme. To my great surprise and happiness, I received a response on the 29th of the same month, in which Mr Bhutto requested me to visit Pakistan immediately. My family and I came at the end of December 1974. I explained the whole process to him , advising that the necessary infrastructure be established. When we came to Pakistan again at the end of December 1975, I was shocked and disappointed that nothing worthwhile had been achieved. I informed Mr Bhutto accordingly. He requested me not to return to Holland and start working on the project immediately.
Details of my giving up an excellent job, the hardship my family faced, the hurdles put in my way and the professional jealousy that I faced are all well-recorded. Thanks to Allah, with the hard work and dedication put in by my team we become a nuclear and missile power within relatively a short span of time. My technological knowledge was worth billions of dollars for which I received a meagre salary every month. Nonetheless, I was branded and treated as a traitor.
Aap ki kaunsi barhi izat/ me agr bazm me ruswa hua
Or our great poet, Ahmad Faraz, once visited the war museum in Dhaka and, in what could be considered to be the sentiments of the whole nation, described his feelings thus:
Kabhi ye shehr mera tha zamin meri thi/mere hi log the, mere hi dast-o-bazoo the; Me jis dayar me beyar o be rafiq phiroon/yahan ke sare sanam mere ashna-roo the; Kise khabar thi ke umron ki ashiqi ka ma’aal/Dil-e-shikista o chashm-e-puraab jaisa tha; Kise kahbar thi ke is dajla-e-mohabbat men/hamara sath bhi mauj-e-hubab jaisa tha; Khabar nahin ye rqabat thi in khudaon ki / Ke ye siyasate darban ki chal thi koi; Do-neem toot ke aisi hui zamin jaise/ meri akai bhi khwab-o-khayal thi koi; Ye mausam to hai us roz-e-bud ka aaina/ jo nafraton ki tahon ka hisab rakhta hai; Kahin laga hua anbar-e-ustakhuan to kahin/ lahoo me dooba hua aftab rakhta hai; Kahin mere sipah salar ki jhuki gurden/ adu ke samne hathiar dalne ka saman; Mere Khuda meri beenai chin le mujh say/ main kaise dekh raha hoon hazimt-e-yaran; Main sar jhukae jhukae hue, dard ko chupae hue/ palat ke aya to har rahguzar andheri thi; Main sochta hoon abhi to chiragh raushan the/ kabhi ye shahr mera tha, zamin meri thi
Let those who benefited most from my work not forget that, had Mr Bhutto, Mr Ghulam Ishaq Khan, Ziaul Haq and Mohtarma Benazir Bhutto not wholeheartedly supported our project and had Mian Nawaz Sharif not shown courage in taking the decision to go ahead with our nuclear test against all odds, we would still be following L K Advani’s dictate of walking with our heads bowed in submission. The nearer the December 16 comes, the more I feel like praying:
Yad-e-mazi azab hai ya Rab/Cheen le mujh se hafiza mera
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