The Vision Thing
It’s rare for gents to get to appointed Chief Justice of the Lahore High Court on merit alone
There was once a man called Iftikhar Chaudhry.
Not that Iftikhar Chaudhry — this gentleman was Iftikhar Hussain Chaudhry, and he was Chief Justice of the Lahore High Court (whereas the other gent was Chief Justice of Pakistan, Sultan of Suo Motus, and Jernail of Jaan-nisaars Beshumaar).
Today, Iftikhar Hussain is best-known for not being Iftikhar Muhammad: whereas the former was on a mission to save Musharraf, the latter was out to undo him.
This was back in 2007: an organised outfit (that some call the Chaudhrys of Gujrat) was large and in charge, and there were whispers the CJ of the Lahore High Court had been co-opted by the Mitti Pao bros.
Well, perhaps not whispers. Writes Hamid Khan in his new book, A History of the Judiciary in Pakistan, “Iftikhar Hussain had undertaken to protect the interests of Musharraf [and] Chief Minister Pervaiz Elahi [...he] had six or seven favourites among the judges, [involved] in all kinds of bribery, favouritism, and graft.”
Yes, a lot went wrong in those days: the general was fond of Iftikhar Hussain, whom famously ruled officers in uniform weren’t barred from the presidency. So he kept him on as CJ, kicking over the rules as he went.
“The Chief Justices of the Supreme Court […] were helpless to do anything,” Mr Khan continues “as Musharraf was backing him fully and he could get away with anything.”
And so he did: on March 16, 2007, the police burst into the Lahore High Court Bar and carted off scores of lawyers for arrest.
Eventually, the jaan-nisaars won, and Justice Hussain left the LHC in a huff. But the hero of the story — Iftikhar Muhammad — also saw himself become Iftikhar Hussain, dogged by calls of corruption (and complicity with the Nawaz League).
Plus complicity with the general himself: Iftikhar took oath under the PCO in ’99 (the other Iftikhar in both ’99 and ’07). By this point, we’d do well to remember the words of Justice KMA Samdani, whom refused that very first PCO from ’81:
“Most of the confusion that has arisen in the country as a result of which the institution of democracy has suffered almost irreparably, stemmed from the fact that by and large the judiciary in Pakistan tried, in times of crises, to avoid confrontation with the executive and went out of its way to take the path of least resistance.”
Justice Samdani summed up 50 years in five words: “the path of least resistance”. Sure, it’s a separation of powers — if one branch is allowed to break the others.
But down the path, you get a resister or two: for every dozen Iftikhar Hussains, a single Samdani. Maybe.
It’s a skewed ratio, but we’ll take what we can get: every 20 years or so, a Cornelius will fend off the governor general; a Dorab will defy the junta; a Justice Jillani will fight the forces of fear and hate.
The elevation of Syed Mansoor Ali Shah to Chief Justice of the Lahore High Court is the latest case in point. The press is rubbing its eyes; it’s rare for gents to get to the top slot on merit alone — for said gents to be judicial appointees even rarer.
Not that we couldn’t see it coming: Ardeshir Cowasjee spotted the judge as “young, industrious, and forward-thinking” as early as 2010 (anyone familiar with the great Cowasjee — and the razor blade he wielded as a pen — would know that three plus points together is akin to a Bigfoot sighting: it needs to be seen to be believed).
Thus far, he’s proven his fellow environmentalist right: going up against the mighty Muslim League machine in striking down the Jail Road corridor; setting aside Section 7 of the Christian Divorce Act mandating a spouse allege adultery for seeking divorce; and even introducing the proportionality test in DG Cement.
It follows that the judge, now CJ, had an ambitious Day Zero — unlike other would-be reformers, by putting his own house in order: banishing 30 judicial officers to special duty Siberia, setting up a disciplinary committee to separate lawyers from louts, and appointing the first lady director general of the Punjab Judicial Academy.
But such is our faith in the system that, right until the judge took oath, we didn’t want to believe it.
After all, regression’s back in fashion: a Pakistan where Maulana Sherani deems the light beating of wives kosher, where the state says some militants are more equal than others, and where Orya Maqbool Jan — a cross between Maasi Museebatay and Lindsey Graham — passes derogatory remarks against women, leaves little room for the future. Yet we’ve reason to hope.
It’s said that after the macho man antics of Ronnie Reagan, the world was turned off by his heir, the elder Bush. Newsweek called him a wimp; everyone else wanted answers: who was Poppy Bush? What did he stand for? Would he shake up the world?
As with all Bushes, George Sr had trouble putting any of it in words. Finally, he sighed over what he called “the vision thing” (and ended up being eaten by the Clintons for it).
Like George, Justice Shah’s elevation has been met with sighs from the status quo boys. “The vision thing,” they say. But judicial philosophies are hard to come by in this country — whither our anti-establishment Khannas, our populist Dennings, our nutcase Clarence Thomases?
Without the sound of his own voice, there’s little consistent about Iftikhar Chaudhry even: he’s a different judge in 2000, in 2005, and in 2012.
But there’s little different about Justice Shah’s ideas, then and now. Still a lawyer, the judge wrote a decade ago, “People need justice which is direct, substantive and speedy”, that public interest litigation “gets right to the heart of the issue”. Calling for a rethink of what justice means in this country, he cited Faiz,
“Nisar main teri galyon ke, ai watan, ke jahan
Chali hai rasm ke koi na sar uthake chale
Jo koi chahne wala tawaf ko nikle
Nazar churake chale, jism-o-jan bachake chale.”
And Faiz is as resonant 10 years later. But good men, and good intentions, may be the change yet.
A great lady once said, “The most pathetic person in the world is someone who has sight but no vision.” On we march, to the land of the less pathetic.
It’s time we embraced the vision thing.
Published in The Express Tribune, July 5th, 2016.
Not that Iftikhar Chaudhry — this gentleman was Iftikhar Hussain Chaudhry, and he was Chief Justice of the Lahore High Court (whereas the other gent was Chief Justice of Pakistan, Sultan of Suo Motus, and Jernail of Jaan-nisaars Beshumaar).
Today, Iftikhar Hussain is best-known for not being Iftikhar Muhammad: whereas the former was on a mission to save Musharraf, the latter was out to undo him.
This was back in 2007: an organised outfit (that some call the Chaudhrys of Gujrat) was large and in charge, and there were whispers the CJ of the Lahore High Court had been co-opted by the Mitti Pao bros.
Well, perhaps not whispers. Writes Hamid Khan in his new book, A History of the Judiciary in Pakistan, “Iftikhar Hussain had undertaken to protect the interests of Musharraf [and] Chief Minister Pervaiz Elahi [...he] had six or seven favourites among the judges, [involved] in all kinds of bribery, favouritism, and graft.”
Yes, a lot went wrong in those days: the general was fond of Iftikhar Hussain, whom famously ruled officers in uniform weren’t barred from the presidency. So he kept him on as CJ, kicking over the rules as he went.
“The Chief Justices of the Supreme Court […] were helpless to do anything,” Mr Khan continues “as Musharraf was backing him fully and he could get away with anything.”
And so he did: on March 16, 2007, the police burst into the Lahore High Court Bar and carted off scores of lawyers for arrest.
Eventually, the jaan-nisaars won, and Justice Hussain left the LHC in a huff. But the hero of the story — Iftikhar Muhammad — also saw himself become Iftikhar Hussain, dogged by calls of corruption (and complicity with the Nawaz League).
Plus complicity with the general himself: Iftikhar took oath under the PCO in ’99 (the other Iftikhar in both ’99 and ’07). By this point, we’d do well to remember the words of Justice KMA Samdani, whom refused that very first PCO from ’81:
“Most of the confusion that has arisen in the country as a result of which the institution of democracy has suffered almost irreparably, stemmed from the fact that by and large the judiciary in Pakistan tried, in times of crises, to avoid confrontation with the executive and went out of its way to take the path of least resistance.”
Justice Samdani summed up 50 years in five words: “the path of least resistance”. Sure, it’s a separation of powers — if one branch is allowed to break the others.
But down the path, you get a resister or two: for every dozen Iftikhar Hussains, a single Samdani. Maybe.
It’s a skewed ratio, but we’ll take what we can get: every 20 years or so, a Cornelius will fend off the governor general; a Dorab will defy the junta; a Justice Jillani will fight the forces of fear and hate.
The elevation of Syed Mansoor Ali Shah to Chief Justice of the Lahore High Court is the latest case in point. The press is rubbing its eyes; it’s rare for gents to get to the top slot on merit alone — for said gents to be judicial appointees even rarer.
Not that we couldn’t see it coming: Ardeshir Cowasjee spotted the judge as “young, industrious, and forward-thinking” as early as 2010 (anyone familiar with the great Cowasjee — and the razor blade he wielded as a pen — would know that three plus points together is akin to a Bigfoot sighting: it needs to be seen to be believed).
Thus far, he’s proven his fellow environmentalist right: going up against the mighty Muslim League machine in striking down the Jail Road corridor; setting aside Section 7 of the Christian Divorce Act mandating a spouse allege adultery for seeking divorce; and even introducing the proportionality test in DG Cement.
It follows that the judge, now CJ, had an ambitious Day Zero — unlike other would-be reformers, by putting his own house in order: banishing 30 judicial officers to special duty Siberia, setting up a disciplinary committee to separate lawyers from louts, and appointing the first lady director general of the Punjab Judicial Academy.
But such is our faith in the system that, right until the judge took oath, we didn’t want to believe it.
After all, regression’s back in fashion: a Pakistan where Maulana Sherani deems the light beating of wives kosher, where the state says some militants are more equal than others, and where Orya Maqbool Jan — a cross between Maasi Museebatay and Lindsey Graham — passes derogatory remarks against women, leaves little room for the future. Yet we’ve reason to hope.
It’s said that after the macho man antics of Ronnie Reagan, the world was turned off by his heir, the elder Bush. Newsweek called him a wimp; everyone else wanted answers: who was Poppy Bush? What did he stand for? Would he shake up the world?
As with all Bushes, George Sr had trouble putting any of it in words. Finally, he sighed over what he called “the vision thing” (and ended up being eaten by the Clintons for it).
Like George, Justice Shah’s elevation has been met with sighs from the status quo boys. “The vision thing,” they say. But judicial philosophies are hard to come by in this country — whither our anti-establishment Khannas, our populist Dennings, our nutcase Clarence Thomases?
Without the sound of his own voice, there’s little consistent about Iftikhar Chaudhry even: he’s a different judge in 2000, in 2005, and in 2012.
But there’s little different about Justice Shah’s ideas, then and now. Still a lawyer, the judge wrote a decade ago, “People need justice which is direct, substantive and speedy”, that public interest litigation “gets right to the heart of the issue”. Calling for a rethink of what justice means in this country, he cited Faiz,
“Nisar main teri galyon ke, ai watan, ke jahan
Chali hai rasm ke koi na sar uthake chale
Jo koi chahne wala tawaf ko nikle
Nazar churake chale, jism-o-jan bachake chale.”
And Faiz is as resonant 10 years later. But good men, and good intentions, may be the change yet.
A great lady once said, “The most pathetic person in the world is someone who has sight but no vision.” On we march, to the land of the less pathetic.
It’s time we embraced the vision thing.
Published in The Express Tribune, July 5th, 2016.