Zulfiqar Mirza unplugged: The fallen archangel
Mirza polarises opinions like no other – you either love him or hate him.
KARACHI:
Yet, off camera, the firebrand known for his cutting comments and scorching speeches is betrayed by his own voice and words.
Long regarded as President Asif Ali Zardari’s closest friend – a relationship that dates back over four decades to Cadet College Petaro – Mirza finds himself a controversial figure within his own party, a man whose belligerence has made him the polar opposite of his friend, the pacifist.
The effort to emphasise their strong friendship aside, Mirza finally admits, when pressed, that there is a level of resentment he now carries towards the president. “That’s why I am not with him now. Difference of opinion. I think in a different way,” he says. “He wants to sit with murderers, criminals, rapists, dacoits,” says Mirza with a touch of disappointment, adding that, “[these elements] want to break Pakistan.”
(Read: ‘Bad cop’ or double-edged sword?)
Initially, there were rumours that Mirza’s recent offensive against the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) and some top PPP leaders was actually held at the behest of the president – a sort of good-cop-bad-cop strategy.
The fallen archangel
But the events of the last few days suggest otherwise. Public criticism by his former friends and, more importantly, intense intra-PPP friction has made this a game too dangerous to be played out of strategy or choice.
(Read: Friction within the PPP)
Independent media accounts place Mirza’s open support within the PPP at 18 MPAs and 6 ministers. But Mirza says, confidently, that “these are just the ones who have been exposed.”
The PPP’s top leadership in Sindh has clearly been undermined by Mirza’s popularity inside the party’s ranks – which pushed the frantic leaders to try and cut the former home minister out of the scene completely. And he knows it.
“They are saying don’t meet me (Mirza). Openly in a meeting, Siraj Durrani shouted it, Pir Mazhar said it and the chief minister also said it. The CM’s staff is openly calling MPAs and threatening them [not to meet me]. Lady MPAs have been called over and over by Adi Faryal (Faryal Talpur, the president’s sister), and her messages were being delivered, that you [the MPAs] have been called.”
Though the leaders have clearly failed, the attempt has clearly hurt Mirza. Despite knowing that his stand is contrary to his party’s line, he seems almost surprised at the move.
For the first, and only, time in the interview Mirza is a bit ruffled.
“We can sit with Chaudhry Pervez Elahi, we can hug him. And MQM also, who are the killers of many of our brothers. With them we are ready to sit … but [not] Dr Zulfiqar Mirza, who didn’t let a scratch come to Shaheed Rani [Benazir Bhutto] even in two bomb blasts; who got her safe and sound to Bilawal House, and then, alone, on the request of Bibi, after the bomb blasts took her to visit [the wounded and dead] in the hospitals; who took her to Lyari, and after that, at 3 am, took her for pilgrimage to Sehwan Sharif … all by himself.” He goes silent.
“He, who Bibi had so much trust in, President Asif Ali Zardari had so much trust in … today, this is what I have become – an untouchable? Someone who meeting and eating with has become a sin?”
The hurt and surprise is short-lived though. “They need to realize that they are not sitting with Dr Zulfiqar… they are sitting with their motherland Sindh and for her sake.”
He is confident though that this deliberate isolation does not have the president’s sanction.
“The president called for some people… and he said to them they [who are stopping people from meeting Mirza] are not acting on my behalf, they are trying to be more loyal than the King.”
It is surprising that Mirza is surprised, given his barefaced criticism of his party’s hierarchy – in particular Chief Minister Qaim Ali Shah.
“You talk about the CM Sindh. The tragedy is that it has always been like this. In his previous tenure in ‘88, even then things were like this. PSF students used to get up on their tables and ridicule him. Then too he was PPP president (Sindh) and CM.
“It is for this reason – that one CM is not working out – that they have given a CM to his left, right, in front and behind. He is surrounded by four CMs. Some are elected, some are unelected. But they are acting like CMs.”
His advice to the veteran politician from Khairpur: “He should go home. It is high time. His own people need him.”
Rumours have long circulated that the Sindh CM will be changed – the two names making rounds as possible candidates are Agha Siraj Durrani and Pir Mazharul Haq. What does Mirza think?
“Over my dead body. I should go to the grave first, then they can become chief minister.”
He is careful, however, when it comes to naming who he thinks would make a good chief minister. “If I take the name of a genuine person, his future will be ruined.”
And if Dr Mirza is ever requested by President Zardari to take over as chief minister?
“I would refuse. I am not purchasable, or for sale.”
Chief ministership aside, Dr Mirza has developed a cult-like following not only in his party, but among other parties, and, most importantly, among the masses.
(Read: The genie is out)
Like him or not, Mirza could be described as one of the most influential politicians in the country at the moment. Unlike other PPP ‘dissenters’ that faded into obscurity, such as Naheed Khan, Safdar Abbasi and most recently Shah Mehmood Qureshi, Mirza wields a lot of clout, even in the assemblies. All attempts to sideline him have failed.
The local government bill that restores a Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) favoured system, which is ardently opposed by Dr Mirza, is now set to be rejected by the Sindh legislature. Contrary to public image, Dr Zulfiqar Mirza is humble about this.
(Read: Limits to reconciliation - Zulfiqar Mirza dares PPP to pass bill pleasing MQM in assembly)
“People are stuck in euphoria … Actually it is not me. It is the issue. [It is] a genuine issue of Sindh, at least. And the honour of Sindh and Sindhis … whether they are Urdu-speaking, Punjabi-speaking, Pashtu-speaking or Balochi-speaking.
“This is not Zulfiqar Mirza. The only credit to me is that I have awakened them. I threw light on the issues. I stirred them slightly and I woke them up. That’s all I did. And I did this by doing the smallest, and easiest thing … which is, to tell the truth. To lie, you have to tell 36 more lies. So I said a small truth. The thing that can be done with minimal effort. I just woke them up slightly, those who dream, like Manzoor Wassan – but it is unfortunate that he is [still] in a deep sleep.”
(Read: US ready to help improve Karachi situation: Wassan)
The rejection of the MQM-favoured local government system, however, is not the main issue for Mirza.
“I have other reasons. Not just the bill. If it lapses and it comes back in original form, which we had passed, my war doesn’t end there,” he emphasises.
“That will be my first moral victory. My actual fight is for and my aim is to get rid of the MQM as soon as possible.”
Mirza’s initial fame undoubtedly owes to his verbal onslaughts against the MQM. His open criticism of the party and direct attacks against MQM chief Altaf Hussain are unprecedented. Even the staunchest opponents of a party that has long been considered to use violence as a political tool have not openly said the things Mirza has – for fear of repercussions, or otherwise.
But there are no half-measures with Mirza.
In contrast to his public and television appearances, Mirza’s criticism of the party, in person, is studied, analytical and rationalised. His words transcend mere impulsive remarks he has become famous for.
Firstly, he is dead set on the fact that MQM is the cause of political violence in the city. And the notion that ‘target killings’ are a recent phenomenon is rubbished by him.
“If you analyse this term, it is ‘political killings’. Otherwise, every killing is a target killing. God forbid, if I want to kill you, I have to target you. Except people who die from dengue, malaria etc,” says Mirza with a smirk.
(Read: Plan A or plan banana?)
“Otherwise, murdering someone with a gun, with a knife, with a sword, with a hatchet, is target killing,” says Mirza, living up to his reputation of being able to make anyone uneasy.
“Target killing was always there, especially since the MQM came into existence. In 1984-85, it increased,” holds Mirza. “There are many factors,” he admits, but adds emphatically that “the major factor behind such mass killings is the MQM.”
The doctor in him then comes to the surface as he moves to deftly and mercilessly dissect the psychology of the party – like a sociologist as opposed to the fiery political orator.
“Muttahida Qaumi Movement’s existence, politically, in Karachi and controlling Karachi’s affairs … they control everything, even their own party, through the barrel of a gun.
“I am saying this because, look, their party’s chairman, Azeem Tariq, was murdered. After his murder, the MQM has been in power a few times, and every time they have shared power they have overwhelmed the majority (ruling) party. Not as underdogs. They have had home ministers. I want to ask: how much was Azeem Tariq’s murder investigated? Were the statements of his wife and children even recorded? If not, then it means that they are not interested. And why is one not interested? Because one knows when they take interest, the case may lead back to them.
“It is not hidden from anyone that Azeem Tariq and Altaf Hussain had their differences. Similarly, they have many good people in their ranks, who, due to difference of opinion – there is difference of opinion everywhere, at home, between brothers and sisters, parents, even in parties. In political parties, different people of different mindsets sit together; there should be a difference of opinion. Every person should be thinking independently and democracy’s basic essence is this.
“But those leaders who have had a difference of opinion [in the MQM], including the ex speaker of the Sindh Assembly Raziq Khan, their transport minister Badar Iqbal – there are many names, – whoever left the party was murdered.
“When a Peoples Party member leaves, why aren’t they murdered? An ANP member leaves … Ajmal Khan was a big leader, he left; he wasn’t murdered by the ANP. Mumtaz Bhutto left Peoples Party, he is alive. Hafeez Pirzada left, Jatoi sb left, lots of people leave. Even now, you can see lots of people hold a different opinion … [but] they are just ignored or sidelined by a party maybe. They aren’t killed.
“So they [MQM] blackmail their own party members and through the barrel of the gun control them. Many straight people come into their trap. They cannot leave of their own free will. It is apparent from this what the nature of their politics is. MQM’s style is: Whoever doesn’t listen, he will go to Khamoshnagar (silent area)… by that I mean the graveyard.
“I can give several examples. I have written a thesis on them. I mean, it is not admissible in any university or anything,” chuckles Mirza.
The conversation takes a bit of a detour here with the mention of theses and degrees. Maybe he could get an honorary degree, ala Interior Minister Rehman Malik, he is told, tongue-in-cheek.
He pauses, and his face wears a look of disgust.
“Disgrace. Pakistan has been disgraced internationally by giving a person like Rehman Malik an honorary doctorate. Those who have put in so much hard work to get a degree or a doctorate from there, they must be crying in their hearts. And I share their grief. Anyway, we’re drifting…”
Back to the MQM.
“So this is their style. There are studies. There was one in a university in Texas. They interviewed people who are in self exile who have told how [the MQM] first studies a person. They pick a person from a broken home … where the father or the breadwinner has died or there is no food at home. These people are picked and indoctrinated that ‘our community is being wronged, that we are a deprived nation. Punjabis are eating our share, Sindhis are eating our share…’
“They pick such people from the Urdu-speaking community and then motivate them. Then that person is made to commit a crime. Once he has murdered, he has no one else. Only the party protects them. The person is blackmailed.
“There was one guy who was interviewed whose final murder was that of a policeman’s pregnant wife. This woman’s head was cut off and put in the refrigerator in that house. So that her husband and other policemen get the message. This is their way.
“There are many stories. Torture cells, people being drilled with drill machines. We have visited our people in hospital during Bibi’s time. There was one young person admitted in Aga Khan Hospital, he was a PSF student, an aggressive type. He was picked up. A steel pipe was stuck in his urethra, and through that pipe they poured concentrated sulphuric acid. His entire urethra was damaged. A young guy from Gilgit. His only crime was that he was against the MQM, or pro-PPP.
“There are several cases of drilled bodies. Just imagine, a person who is alive, a drill penetrating him. It is better to just kill him. They are not human beings.”
Mirza’s assault is not frenzied. It is almost frighteningly calculated and analytical.
But what of the MQM and its chief’s obvious support base in Karachi?
“That’s why I say, his mandate is 50% of what he gets. 50% is through stamping, through the barrel of the gun.”
But even 50% of that mandate is still pretty big in a city such as Karachi...
“They [the rest of the 50%] have been hypnotised. He is a performer. They have fallen for his drama… poor people, innocent people. There are many uneducated among them. But the tragedy is that many of them are indeed educated. They get stuck in a vicious cycle. They can’t get out.
“He has a gang. It is a mafia,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Even in a country like America, there were mafias, there are mafias. What was Don Corleone? He had a following too. Mafia chiefs were then even elected. This happens everywhere in the world. Unfortunately, this is the reality.”
Mirza speaks of a need to treat “criminals like criminals” – a crackdown, effectively. But he is then reminded of previous operations against the MQM, after which the party emerged stronger politically and otherwise.
“You never succeed in war or love halfheartedly,” he responds. So he believes the 1992 operation was halfhearted? “There were wheels within wheels,” he says cryptically.
Mirza is then asked of the fears that many hold that a crackdown against the party, or not taking them on board, would have consequences…
“…what repercussions!?” he interrupts, “They have no street power! They begged everybody, when they gave me an ultimatum: ‘Leave Karachi in 48 hours’. When I used those derogatory words at Shahi Syed’s place, the next day they gave me an ultimatum – leave or we will gather 50,000 people. They could not gather more than 2,000 boys.”
“I can prove that they are working against Pakistan, Rehman Malik and co and MQM…”
And co?
“You know … Dr Babar Awan … the darling of the Pakistan nation. These two darlings,” he says mockingly.
Still, whatever the reasons, his long-time friend, President Zardari insists on keeping the MQM and ‘Rehman Malik and Co.’ on board despite Mirza’s assertions.
“The president is my best buddy, and I am his best buddy,” he still insists. However, when asked when the last time they spoke was, he stops to calculate.
“25-30 days.”
But you’re still best friends? “Yes. Absolutely,” he responds without blinking.
“We speak through our hearts,” he says, smirking, almost as if he doesn’t know what else to say when asked why “best buddies” wouldn’t speak to each other for such a long time.
“I have a lifetime commitment to that family, you understand?” he explains.
“And I am committed to ‘others’ [referring possibly to PPP chairman Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari] doubly because I was committed to Asif from before and he to me. And when he married Bibi, for Bibi we were, and are, ready to sacrifice our homes, our children,” he says with a touch of emotion creeping into his voice.
But you won’t contact him? “I’m not going to call,” he says stubbornly, “He’s most welcome to call me. I respect him, he is my brother.”
What would it take for him to contact the president, he is asked – perhaps the government’s stepping away from the MQM?
“I will go and congratulate him,” his eyes lighten up, “I will garland him.” But, he adds: “I doubt he will do that. Khair… I don’t know. Because I know he can also hold on to such an attitude.”
Mirza says he is still “100 per cent” about his decision to quit “electoral politics”. But given his rise to prominence, it doesn’t look like he needs to return to wield power.
Clearly, in person, there is a lot more to Mirza than the furious man seen on television delivering charged speeches. Wearing a blue polo shirt, and blue suede shoes – as opposed to the traditional shalwar kameez or suit he is generally seen in – he looks different sitting in his meticulously done living room in his Khayaban-e-Shaheen home in Karachi. The room is done up in a tasteful gold/bronze theme with tinge of maroon.
The pictures on display seem purposeful. One table has a picture of him with President Asif Ali Zardari and Benazir Bhutto. Besides that there is a black and white picture of Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah delivering a speech. On another table, there is a picture of just Benazir Bhutto. Other tables, further away, have family pictures.
The lead up to his rise to political fame has been hard-earned, including a 12-year disappearing act due to a number of cases against him pursued first by the infamous Saifur Rehman commission of Nawaz Sharif’s second government and then by the provincial government of chief minister Ghulam Arbab Rahim.
“I saw the best parts of our country in these years,” he recalls. “I used to visit my area – sometimes on donkey cart, sometimes on bull cart, sometimes on bike to attend funerals. I was in touch with my people.”
It was however difficult on the man.
“When I left my house, my youngest son (Hassam) was three years of age. He was very attached to me, he used to sleep on my chest. For quite some time after my disappearance, he could not sleep,” says Mirza.
“Daily, when I went to bed, I always used to think I might not get up tomorrow morning. When I used to sleep, I only used to see the hangman’s noose.”
“Those 12 years I was all by myself, All alone. The most lonely person.”
(Read: Man on fire)
But he bounced back. “God is great,” he exclaims, with a satisfied grin on his face.
Despite the hardships and controversy, Mirza finds time for his passions – vintage cars and guns. In his driveway is a red 1939 Morris which he insists is not the best of his collection. It is there so that he can work on it a bit. “She needs some replacements.”
“I am a low profile, poor car collector and a gun collector. These two things are my passion,” he says.
“I have about 50 plus classics,” he declares proudly, growing prouder still when mentioning his favourite: a vintage Armstrong Siddeley, which used to belong to the Nawab of Bhawalpur.
“I also enjoy altering cars myself,” adds Mirza. “I dissected a CJ-7 from a 2-door to a 4-door and made it broader from the front. It looks like a hummer but is faster than a hummer. The chassis, gear everything is of a land cruiser. “And I’ve stretched a Pontiac to make it a limo.”
His nature changes when the topic is off politics. At one point, he jokingly tells the interviewer that they should eat cake, because they “can afford to eat it.”
Other topics are also discussed, and for a moment one forgets where they are and whom they are speaking to. He could be any other man. But he isn’t. He’s Dr Zulfiqar Mirza – a man on a mission that would make even the bravest shudder.
Read Dr Zulfiqar Mirza's profile here.
Published in The Express Tribune, October 21st, 2011.
Yet, off camera, the firebrand known for his cutting comments and scorching speeches is betrayed by his own voice and words.
Long regarded as President Asif Ali Zardari’s closest friend – a relationship that dates back over four decades to Cadet College Petaro – Mirza finds himself a controversial figure within his own party, a man whose belligerence has made him the polar opposite of his friend, the pacifist.
The effort to emphasise their strong friendship aside, Mirza finally admits, when pressed, that there is a level of resentment he now carries towards the president. “That’s why I am not with him now. Difference of opinion. I think in a different way,” he says. “He wants to sit with murderers, criminals, rapists, dacoits,” says Mirza with a touch of disappointment, adding that, “[these elements] want to break Pakistan.”
(Read: ‘Bad cop’ or double-edged sword?)
Initially, there were rumours that Mirza’s recent offensive against the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) and some top PPP leaders was actually held at the behest of the president – a sort of good-cop-bad-cop strategy.
The fallen archangel
But the events of the last few days suggest otherwise. Public criticism by his former friends and, more importantly, intense intra-PPP friction has made this a game too dangerous to be played out of strategy or choice.
(Read: Friction within the PPP)
Independent media accounts place Mirza’s open support within the PPP at 18 MPAs and 6 ministers. But Mirza says, confidently, that “these are just the ones who have been exposed.”
The PPP’s top leadership in Sindh has clearly been undermined by Mirza’s popularity inside the party’s ranks – which pushed the frantic leaders to try and cut the former home minister out of the scene completely. And he knows it.
“They are saying don’t meet me (Mirza). Openly in a meeting, Siraj Durrani shouted it, Pir Mazhar said it and the chief minister also said it. The CM’s staff is openly calling MPAs and threatening them [not to meet me]. Lady MPAs have been called over and over by Adi Faryal (Faryal Talpur, the president’s sister), and her messages were being delivered, that you [the MPAs] have been called.”
Though the leaders have clearly failed, the attempt has clearly hurt Mirza. Despite knowing that his stand is contrary to his party’s line, he seems almost surprised at the move.
For the first, and only, time in the interview Mirza is a bit ruffled.
“We can sit with Chaudhry Pervez Elahi, we can hug him. And MQM also, who are the killers of many of our brothers. With them we are ready to sit … but [not] Dr Zulfiqar Mirza, who didn’t let a scratch come to Shaheed Rani [Benazir Bhutto] even in two bomb blasts; who got her safe and sound to Bilawal House, and then, alone, on the request of Bibi, after the bomb blasts took her to visit [the wounded and dead] in the hospitals; who took her to Lyari, and after that, at 3 am, took her for pilgrimage to Sehwan Sharif … all by himself.” He goes silent.
“He, who Bibi had so much trust in, President Asif Ali Zardari had so much trust in … today, this is what I have become – an untouchable? Someone who meeting and eating with has become a sin?”
The hurt and surprise is short-lived though. “They need to realize that they are not sitting with Dr Zulfiqar… they are sitting with their motherland Sindh and for her sake.”
He is confident though that this deliberate isolation does not have the president’s sanction.
“The president called for some people… and he said to them they [who are stopping people from meeting Mirza] are not acting on my behalf, they are trying to be more loyal than the King.”
It is surprising that Mirza is surprised, given his barefaced criticism of his party’s hierarchy – in particular Chief Minister Qaim Ali Shah.
“You talk about the CM Sindh. The tragedy is that it has always been like this. In his previous tenure in ‘88, even then things were like this. PSF students used to get up on their tables and ridicule him. Then too he was PPP president (Sindh) and CM.
“It is for this reason – that one CM is not working out – that they have given a CM to his left, right, in front and behind. He is surrounded by four CMs. Some are elected, some are unelected. But they are acting like CMs.”
His advice to the veteran politician from Khairpur: “He should go home. It is high time. His own people need him.”
Rumours have long circulated that the Sindh CM will be changed – the two names making rounds as possible candidates are Agha Siraj Durrani and Pir Mazharul Haq. What does Mirza think?
“Over my dead body. I should go to the grave first, then they can become chief minister.”
He is careful, however, when it comes to naming who he thinks would make a good chief minister. “If I take the name of a genuine person, his future will be ruined.”
And if Dr Mirza is ever requested by President Zardari to take over as chief minister?
“I would refuse. I am not purchasable, or for sale.”
Chief ministership aside, Dr Mirza has developed a cult-like following not only in his party, but among other parties, and, most importantly, among the masses.
(Read: The genie is out)
Like him or not, Mirza could be described as one of the most influential politicians in the country at the moment. Unlike other PPP ‘dissenters’ that faded into obscurity, such as Naheed Khan, Safdar Abbasi and most recently Shah Mehmood Qureshi, Mirza wields a lot of clout, even in the assemblies. All attempts to sideline him have failed.
The local government bill that restores a Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) favoured system, which is ardently opposed by Dr Mirza, is now set to be rejected by the Sindh legislature. Contrary to public image, Dr Zulfiqar Mirza is humble about this.
(Read: Limits to reconciliation - Zulfiqar Mirza dares PPP to pass bill pleasing MQM in assembly)
“People are stuck in euphoria … Actually it is not me. It is the issue. [It is] a genuine issue of Sindh, at least. And the honour of Sindh and Sindhis … whether they are Urdu-speaking, Punjabi-speaking, Pashtu-speaking or Balochi-speaking.
“This is not Zulfiqar Mirza. The only credit to me is that I have awakened them. I threw light on the issues. I stirred them slightly and I woke them up. That’s all I did. And I did this by doing the smallest, and easiest thing … which is, to tell the truth. To lie, you have to tell 36 more lies. So I said a small truth. The thing that can be done with minimal effort. I just woke them up slightly, those who dream, like Manzoor Wassan – but it is unfortunate that he is [still] in a deep sleep.”
(Read: US ready to help improve Karachi situation: Wassan)
The rejection of the MQM-favoured local government system, however, is not the main issue for Mirza.
“I have other reasons. Not just the bill. If it lapses and it comes back in original form, which we had passed, my war doesn’t end there,” he emphasises.
“That will be my first moral victory. My actual fight is for and my aim is to get rid of the MQM as soon as possible.”
Mirza’s initial fame undoubtedly owes to his verbal onslaughts against the MQM. His open criticism of the party and direct attacks against MQM chief Altaf Hussain are unprecedented. Even the staunchest opponents of a party that has long been considered to use violence as a political tool have not openly said the things Mirza has – for fear of repercussions, or otherwise.
But there are no half-measures with Mirza.
In contrast to his public and television appearances, Mirza’s criticism of the party, in person, is studied, analytical and rationalised. His words transcend mere impulsive remarks he has become famous for.
Firstly, he is dead set on the fact that MQM is the cause of political violence in the city. And the notion that ‘target killings’ are a recent phenomenon is rubbished by him.
“If you analyse this term, it is ‘political killings’. Otherwise, every killing is a target killing. God forbid, if I want to kill you, I have to target you. Except people who die from dengue, malaria etc,” says Mirza with a smirk.
(Read: Plan A or plan banana?)
“Otherwise, murdering someone with a gun, with a knife, with a sword, with a hatchet, is target killing,” says Mirza, living up to his reputation of being able to make anyone uneasy.
“Target killing was always there, especially since the MQM came into existence. In 1984-85, it increased,” holds Mirza. “There are many factors,” he admits, but adds emphatically that “the major factor behind such mass killings is the MQM.”
The doctor in him then comes to the surface as he moves to deftly and mercilessly dissect the psychology of the party – like a sociologist as opposed to the fiery political orator.
“Muttahida Qaumi Movement’s existence, politically, in Karachi and controlling Karachi’s affairs … they control everything, even their own party, through the barrel of a gun.
“I am saying this because, look, their party’s chairman, Azeem Tariq, was murdered. After his murder, the MQM has been in power a few times, and every time they have shared power they have overwhelmed the majority (ruling) party. Not as underdogs. They have had home ministers. I want to ask: how much was Azeem Tariq’s murder investigated? Were the statements of his wife and children even recorded? If not, then it means that they are not interested. And why is one not interested? Because one knows when they take interest, the case may lead back to them.
“It is not hidden from anyone that Azeem Tariq and Altaf Hussain had their differences. Similarly, they have many good people in their ranks, who, due to difference of opinion – there is difference of opinion everywhere, at home, between brothers and sisters, parents, even in parties. In political parties, different people of different mindsets sit together; there should be a difference of opinion. Every person should be thinking independently and democracy’s basic essence is this.
“But those leaders who have had a difference of opinion [in the MQM], including the ex speaker of the Sindh Assembly Raziq Khan, their transport minister Badar Iqbal – there are many names, – whoever left the party was murdered.
“When a Peoples Party member leaves, why aren’t they murdered? An ANP member leaves … Ajmal Khan was a big leader, he left; he wasn’t murdered by the ANP. Mumtaz Bhutto left Peoples Party, he is alive. Hafeez Pirzada left, Jatoi sb left, lots of people leave. Even now, you can see lots of people hold a different opinion … [but] they are just ignored or sidelined by a party maybe. They aren’t killed.
“So they [MQM] blackmail their own party members and through the barrel of the gun control them. Many straight people come into their trap. They cannot leave of their own free will. It is apparent from this what the nature of their politics is. MQM’s style is: Whoever doesn’t listen, he will go to Khamoshnagar (silent area)… by that I mean the graveyard.
“I can give several examples. I have written a thesis on them. I mean, it is not admissible in any university or anything,” chuckles Mirza.
The conversation takes a bit of a detour here with the mention of theses and degrees. Maybe he could get an honorary degree, ala Interior Minister Rehman Malik, he is told, tongue-in-cheek.
He pauses, and his face wears a look of disgust.
“Disgrace. Pakistan has been disgraced internationally by giving a person like Rehman Malik an honorary doctorate. Those who have put in so much hard work to get a degree or a doctorate from there, they must be crying in their hearts. And I share their grief. Anyway, we’re drifting…”
Back to the MQM.
“So this is their style. There are studies. There was one in a university in Texas. They interviewed people who are in self exile who have told how [the MQM] first studies a person. They pick a person from a broken home … where the father or the breadwinner has died or there is no food at home. These people are picked and indoctrinated that ‘our community is being wronged, that we are a deprived nation. Punjabis are eating our share, Sindhis are eating our share…’
“They pick such people from the Urdu-speaking community and then motivate them. Then that person is made to commit a crime. Once he has murdered, he has no one else. Only the party protects them. The person is blackmailed.
“There was one guy who was interviewed whose final murder was that of a policeman’s pregnant wife. This woman’s head was cut off and put in the refrigerator in that house. So that her husband and other policemen get the message. This is their way.
“There are many stories. Torture cells, people being drilled with drill machines. We have visited our people in hospital during Bibi’s time. There was one young person admitted in Aga Khan Hospital, he was a PSF student, an aggressive type. He was picked up. A steel pipe was stuck in his urethra, and through that pipe they poured concentrated sulphuric acid. His entire urethra was damaged. A young guy from Gilgit. His only crime was that he was against the MQM, or pro-PPP.
“There are several cases of drilled bodies. Just imagine, a person who is alive, a drill penetrating him. It is better to just kill him. They are not human beings.”
Mirza’s assault is not frenzied. It is almost frighteningly calculated and analytical.
But what of the MQM and its chief’s obvious support base in Karachi?
“That’s why I say, his mandate is 50% of what he gets. 50% is through stamping, through the barrel of the gun.”
But even 50% of that mandate is still pretty big in a city such as Karachi...
“They [the rest of the 50%] have been hypnotised. He is a performer. They have fallen for his drama… poor people, innocent people. There are many uneducated among them. But the tragedy is that many of them are indeed educated. They get stuck in a vicious cycle. They can’t get out.
“He has a gang. It is a mafia,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Even in a country like America, there were mafias, there are mafias. What was Don Corleone? He had a following too. Mafia chiefs were then even elected. This happens everywhere in the world. Unfortunately, this is the reality.”
Mirza speaks of a need to treat “criminals like criminals” – a crackdown, effectively. But he is then reminded of previous operations against the MQM, after which the party emerged stronger politically and otherwise.
“You never succeed in war or love halfheartedly,” he responds. So he believes the 1992 operation was halfhearted? “There were wheels within wheels,” he says cryptically.
Mirza is then asked of the fears that many hold that a crackdown against the party, or not taking them on board, would have consequences…
“…what repercussions!?” he interrupts, “They have no street power! They begged everybody, when they gave me an ultimatum: ‘Leave Karachi in 48 hours’. When I used those derogatory words at Shahi Syed’s place, the next day they gave me an ultimatum – leave or we will gather 50,000 people. They could not gather more than 2,000 boys.”
“I can prove that they are working against Pakistan, Rehman Malik and co and MQM…”
And co?
“You know … Dr Babar Awan … the darling of the Pakistan nation. These two darlings,” he says mockingly.
Still, whatever the reasons, his long-time friend, President Zardari insists on keeping the MQM and ‘Rehman Malik and Co.’ on board despite Mirza’s assertions.
“The president is my best buddy, and I am his best buddy,” he still insists. However, when asked when the last time they spoke was, he stops to calculate.
“25-30 days.”
But you’re still best friends? “Yes. Absolutely,” he responds without blinking.
“We speak through our hearts,” he says, smirking, almost as if he doesn’t know what else to say when asked why “best buddies” wouldn’t speak to each other for such a long time.
“I have a lifetime commitment to that family, you understand?” he explains.
“And I am committed to ‘others’ [referring possibly to PPP chairman Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari] doubly because I was committed to Asif from before and he to me. And when he married Bibi, for Bibi we were, and are, ready to sacrifice our homes, our children,” he says with a touch of emotion creeping into his voice.
But you won’t contact him? “I’m not going to call,” he says stubbornly, “He’s most welcome to call me. I respect him, he is my brother.”
What would it take for him to contact the president, he is asked – perhaps the government’s stepping away from the MQM?
“I will go and congratulate him,” his eyes lighten up, “I will garland him.” But, he adds: “I doubt he will do that. Khair… I don’t know. Because I know he can also hold on to such an attitude.”
Mirza says he is still “100 per cent” about his decision to quit “electoral politics”. But given his rise to prominence, it doesn’t look like he needs to return to wield power.
Clearly, in person, there is a lot more to Mirza than the furious man seen on television delivering charged speeches. Wearing a blue polo shirt, and blue suede shoes – as opposed to the traditional shalwar kameez or suit he is generally seen in – he looks different sitting in his meticulously done living room in his Khayaban-e-Shaheen home in Karachi. The room is done up in a tasteful gold/bronze theme with tinge of maroon.
The pictures on display seem purposeful. One table has a picture of him with President Asif Ali Zardari and Benazir Bhutto. Besides that there is a black and white picture of Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah delivering a speech. On another table, there is a picture of just Benazir Bhutto. Other tables, further away, have family pictures.
The lead up to his rise to political fame has been hard-earned, including a 12-year disappearing act due to a number of cases against him pursued first by the infamous Saifur Rehman commission of Nawaz Sharif’s second government and then by the provincial government of chief minister Ghulam Arbab Rahim.
“I saw the best parts of our country in these years,” he recalls. “I used to visit my area – sometimes on donkey cart, sometimes on bull cart, sometimes on bike to attend funerals. I was in touch with my people.”
It was however difficult on the man.
“When I left my house, my youngest son (Hassam) was three years of age. He was very attached to me, he used to sleep on my chest. For quite some time after my disappearance, he could not sleep,” says Mirza.
“Daily, when I went to bed, I always used to think I might not get up tomorrow morning. When I used to sleep, I only used to see the hangman’s noose.”
“Those 12 years I was all by myself, All alone. The most lonely person.”
(Read: Man on fire)
But he bounced back. “God is great,” he exclaims, with a satisfied grin on his face.
Despite the hardships and controversy, Mirza finds time for his passions – vintage cars and guns. In his driveway is a red 1939 Morris which he insists is not the best of his collection. It is there so that he can work on it a bit. “She needs some replacements.”
“I am a low profile, poor car collector and a gun collector. These two things are my passion,” he says.
“I have about 50 plus classics,” he declares proudly, growing prouder still when mentioning his favourite: a vintage Armstrong Siddeley, which used to belong to the Nawab of Bhawalpur.
“I also enjoy altering cars myself,” adds Mirza. “I dissected a CJ-7 from a 2-door to a 4-door and made it broader from the front. It looks like a hummer but is faster than a hummer. The chassis, gear everything is of a land cruiser. “And I’ve stretched a Pontiac to make it a limo.”
His nature changes when the topic is off politics. At one point, he jokingly tells the interviewer that they should eat cake, because they “can afford to eat it.”
Other topics are also discussed, and for a moment one forgets where they are and whom they are speaking to. He could be any other man. But he isn’t. He’s Dr Zulfiqar Mirza – a man on a mission that would make even the bravest shudder.
Read Dr Zulfiqar Mirza's profile here.
Published in The Express Tribune, October 21st, 2011.