| Visiting Professorial Fellow: Center for Social Theory and Comparative History, at the University of California, Los Angeles, 1989. | I was invited by Prof. Robert Brenner , Director of the Center, to spend a semester with them. I could not resist it. I went in place of my friend Victor Kiernan who was returning to Scotland. I enjoyed my time at UCLA, among friends: Perry Anderson, Michael Mann, Eric Hobsbawm and some others. |
| Professor of Social sciences GSIS, University of Denver, 1987-88 | The Director of the GSIS telephoned me at Manchester and invited me to join the GSIS as Professor---He omitted to tell me that he himself was about to go off to the City University of New York, as Dean. I had just retired from Manchester; US Universities have no compulsory retirement age. He said that he had met me at the University of Dar-es-Salaam in 1975 when I spent a busy week giving interminable seminars. He also knew my work. But I could not recall him. The GSIS turned out to be a mediocre and right wing set-up, full of second rate Saudi and Kuwaiti students whom the staff courted. The place was unbearable. When Bob Brenner called me from LA and invited me I seized the opportunity and resigned from Denver. At my age and beset by ill-health I had no intention, in any case, of going on for long. Being fed up I had already thought of returning to Manchester to do some writing and then to go back to Karachi. |
| Honorary Associate Fellow | Institute of Development Studies at the University of Sussex,1971-1994. This was purely a formal appointment. |
| Reader | Department of Sociology, University of Manchester 1977-88 |
| Academic Assessor i.e. referee for promotions etc. | Department of Sociology and Social Anthropology. University of Malaya, Kuala Lumpur, 1983-85 |
| Lecturer, Department of Politics, University of Leeds, 1972-77 | See below for an account of my appointment as Professor in Canada followed by a ban on entry into Canada ! After that I had an offer of a Professorship at the University of Amsterdam. I went to Leeds instead, for reasons explained below. |
| Visiting Associate Professor | Center for S. Asian Studies, Michigan State University, 1971 |
| Research Fellow | Inst. of Development Studies, University of Sussex, 1966-71 |
| Member of Editorial Board: | Journal of Contemporary Asia (Quarterly) 1971 to 1985
Journal of Peasant Studies (Quarterly) 1973 ... |
My first academic job was with the Institute of Development Studies
at the University of Sussex in 1966 which I joined on a four year
contract. While employed by the IDS my wife and I spent 15 months
researching in a Punjab village (in 1968-69). My term at the IDS
was to expire in 1970. 1 had planned to go back to Pakistan at
the end of it, to set up an Institute of Peasant Studies in Pakistan
which I had been promised. I informed the Director of the IDS
accordingly. My post was advertised and someone appointed. Then
came the Pakistan Military action in Bangladesh. I was traumatized.
I could not return to Pakistan under the auspices of such a regime.
The IDS managed to find funds for a three month extension for
me while I tried to sort myself out. I was then invited to go
to the Michigan State University as a Visiting Associate Professor
and Director of an inter-disciplinary Pakistan Rural Development
Research Workshop (which resulted in a book that I co-edited).
I spent a few months there.
BANNED FROM CANADA
The day after I arrived at East Lansing (Michigan State University)
in May 1971, I was telephoned by friends in the Department of
Sociology at Queen's University at Kingston, Ontario. They were
about to make an appointment when they learnt through the academic
grapevine that I was around and available. They invited me to
Kingston and put forward my name for the job. I was selected and
in due course I got a formal letter from the Vice Chancellor appointing
me as Professor. I might add that Khalid Bin Sayeed was not involved
in any of this. He is in the Department of Politics and he was
abroad on leave until September. He did not know of my appointment
until I wrote to him in January.
I applied for the Canadian Landed Immigrant Visa, giving them,
as required, a full account of my political activities and affiliations.
It took them three months to check that out. In December 1971,
they informed me that my application had been approved. We were
to go to Canada in July 1972, Surprisingly, in February 1972,
my wife and I were summoned by the Canadian High Commission in
London and this time we were both interviewed by their top intelligence
man about my politics and beliefs. I was then informed that I
was banned from entry into Canada. What made them have the second
thoughts after they had already checked me out ? I wondered. Had
there had been some intervention by someone in the meanwhile ?
I am left to guess by whom and why ?
On being told of the ban I notified the Sociology Department and
also the Vice-Chancellor of Queens, accordingly. The Vice-Chancellor
took up my case and eventually got the ban lifted. But by that
time I found the idea of going to Canada quite offensive. Behind
a facade of liberalism they had been quite vicious. I was even
a bit flattered by the ban for I was in good company. Several
of my friends, all distinguished scholars, had also been banned
from Canada. One of them was my good friend, Istvan Meszaros,
a distinguished Marxist philosopher, a colleague and personal
friend of Georg Lukacs. Istvan was banned when he was appointed
Professor at York University. Andre Gunder Frank, a friend since
1962 before he became a world-wide celebrity, was banned too.
Gabriel Kolko, the distinguished historian of US imperialism,
and a fellow member of the Editorial Board of the Journal of Contemporary
Asia, was also banned. Sadly I have never met him. Who knows how
many more ? That is the hypocritical 'liberalism' and 'freedom
of thought' of the 'Democratic West' --- empty slogans. McCarthy
lives on.
My ban became a 'cause celebre' in Canadian Universities. There
were protests. But I was outraged to see that there was not a
single word of protest, not even a private word of solidarity,
from any of my prospective colleagues at Queens. Only a ringing
silence. I was quite disgusted. What kind of people were they
with whom I would have to work ? When the ban was eventually lifted
I chose not to go there, The salary at Queens was 3 times what
I got at Leeds. But that was no attraction. A living wage was
enough.
When I went to Montreal for a conference in 1974 some academics
from Universite du Quebec a Montreal met me. They told me that
when Prime Minister Trudeau visited their University he was questioned
about my ban. Trudeau replied that the 'ban' was an administrative
mix-up which had been reversed. He told them that it was my decision
not to go to Canada after all. That was not his fault, he said.
That was hypocritical.
LEEDS
The alternative to Canada was a Lecturer's job at Leeds which
I was happy to take. I had friends there. Justin Grossman and
now Ralph Miliband who had joined as Head of the Department of
Politics. My wife and I had spent the New Year's eve at Ralph's
house in London. I had told him that we were going to Queen's.
Little did I know that I would join him at Leeds instead. It so
happened that I had applied to Leeds earlier and Justin was able
to reactivate my old application when the Canadian job fell through.
After due process and interview I was appointed. My friends at
Leeds gave me a warm welcome, but said that a Lectureship was
all that was on offer. But that was fine with me.
PROFESSORSHIP AT AMSTERDAM
A few weeks before my Leeds interview, I got an offer from Amsterdam
that came out of the blue. It was an invitation from the University
of Amsterdam to take up Prof. Wertheim's Chair at their 'Sociology
- Social Anthropology Center'. Wertheim was retiring. I knew
Wertheim, who is a scholar of international standing. To be invited
to take over from him was itself quite an honor.
They said that they had considered about 200 applicants and interviewed
some, before they decided to invite me. I do not believe for a
moment that the applicants did not include persons of great caliber,
probably better qualified than myself. But I found that they were
interested in having me because of the areas of my work in sociology
and social anthropology (which ran parallel to Wertheim's interest)
and the fact that I was a South Asian, which fitted in with their
ideas of the direction in which they wanted the Center to develop
its work. They wanted to move out of the colonial rut, such as
their focus on Indonesia, and broaden their work, The last thing
they wanted was another Indonesia specialist who was the next
strongest candidate after me.
They invited my wife and myself to go to Amsterdam for a week
as guests of the Center so that we could see the place and make
up our minds. Wertheim met us at the air terminal. He took me
to the Center where I met the gathered Appointment Board. We talked
for one and an half hour. I realized that they were overwhelmingly
for me. I did not know any of them personally, excepting for Prof.
Wertheim himself. But they knew my work. Only two of the 15 members
of the Appointments Board seemed to be hostile. And one senior
Professor was non-committal. He did not yet know me. But we got
to know each other during the week and he too came around strongly
to support me, as he made clear. He even gave us a dinner party
at his home. The job was mine. The appointments procedure for
that senior Chair was elaborate. Recommendation from the Appointments
Board would go to the Senate for ratification. Then it would go
to the Ministry of Education. But I was also assured that once
the Appointment Board had made its recommendation, which in this
case was overwhelmingly in my favor, the rest of the procedure
was a mere formality. The only time in their history, they wrote,
when the recommendation of Appointments Board had been referred
back was in 1947 when the Board had been evenly divided between
the candidates.
After we got back to London my wife expressed her unhappiness
at the prospect of going to live in Amsterdam, although she did
say that for my sake she would go anywhere. What would she do
in Amsterdam, she asked. She had stood by me through thick and
thin and I did not wish to build my career on the basis of her
unhappiness. The job at Leeds would be attractive for us both.
The Milibands had been our personal friends for years and my wife
was comfortable with them. Miliband, for his part, strongly urged
me to take the Amsterdam job. I decided on Leeds. The Amsterdam
option was there, in case Leeds turned me down. I was in correspondence
with friends in Amsterdam who pressed me to reconsider. It would
have been the ultimate irony if I had to take that up, though.
I wrote to Amsterdam withdrawing my candidature. I gave some lame
excuses for my decision. They were not only upset---they were
astonished. My friends at Amsterdam found it incomprehensible
that I would prefer a mere Lectureship at Leeds to the distinguished
Chair at Amsterdam. There followed a lot of correspondence and
telephone calls. They thought that I had withdrawn because I was
unsure of the Amsterdam job and was taking the Leeds job as a
'bird in hand'. They went to great lengths to assure me that the
Amsterdam Chair was mine and that I should not worry about it.
But I had decided and have never regretted that decision. I got
the job at Leeds.
MANCHESTER
I moved to Manchester after five years at Leeds. I had thought
that I would never leave Leeds. But my friends in Manchester 'twisted
my arm' and persuaded me to go there. Things had changed in Leeds
for Millband left for Brandeis University In America. Without
him Leeds would not be the same. We had, between the two of us,
enjoyed running an M.A. course which attracted excellent students.
Without him, it would not be the same. So now Manchester was not
a bad idea.
In Manchester we had an excellent team in Sociology of Development
with Peter Worsely, Teodor Shanin, Bryan Roberts, Ken Brown and
myself. In a national survey we were rated as one of the best
University Departments in Britain offering Sociology of Development.
We attracted excellent research students. Teodor Shanin and I
ran a lively seminar. I enjoyed being at Manchester. My greatest
regret is that I did not get good Pakistani students. My only
good Pakistani student did a Ph.D. with me at Leeds---an excellent
study of industrial workers at Karachi. At Manchester I had two
Pakistani students about whom the less said the better. That is
not much to show for a lifetime of work. My best students were
from Latin America, South East Asia and one from Turkey.
THE SECOND CAREER: POLITICAL
ACTIVISM IN LONDON
Before I moved into an academic career in 1966, I spent 10 years
in London in political activism, writing, lecturing and giving
seminars at Universities. When I first came to London, I joined
the LSE for a Ph.D. on Banking in Pakistan, which given my years
of first hand involvement in building it up, I could have written
blindfolded. But I was sick of that subject. And I was disenchanted
by empty academicism. I found myself attending Sociology, social
anthropology and political science seminars. I devoured a vast
amount of literature. I was full of questions. What had happened
to my country ? I studied and wrote. In those days there was nothing
much to read about Pakistan, to discover what had gone wrong.
So one had to study, analyze and write ! I founded and edited
Pakistan Today (1957-62) a quarterly journal. Each issue
would have a substantial article that I wrote. We would bring
out an issue as soon as there was a major development in Pakistan.
After the Ayub Coup we came out six times a year. PT had a circulation
of several hundred. The peak was about 1500 for our final issue
which was wholly devoted to an article entitled The Burden
of US Aid. Pakistan Today was sent to East and West Pakistan
and clandestinely reproduced there or placed in libraries. The
US Aid Issue was reprinted as a booklet by Faiz Ahmad Faiz . It
was also reprinted in the US by a New Left journal called New
University Thought and as a booklet by the Detroit Radical
Education Project (who also reprinted some of my later articles
in booklet form). Tariq Ali acknowledged it as a source in his
first book. We got letters from sympathisers in Europe and North
America. When there was total silence in Pakistan itself, it was
a worthwhile thing to do. A lot of my time was invested in it.
I became a political activist. My wife and I joined one or two
like minded friends, notably Tassaduq Ahmad from Dacca and his
wife. We worked amongst Pakistani students and workers very successfully
from 1955 to 1966. We founded a number of organizations designed
for activity at different levels. The Pakistan Youth League
was a broad liberal to socialist forum. We met fortnightly and
about 150 to 200 would turn up. Besides ourselves, speakers included
scholars on the Left like Stuart Hall, Tony Benn and Eric Hobsbawm.
The Pakistani Socialist Society was a smaller group. At
a broader political level, soon after the Ayub Coup, we set up
a Committee for the Restoration of Democracy in Pakistan.
At an international level we ran a group called The Forum
which brought together socialists, from Asia, Africa and Latin
America, for a dialogue. It fell apart when Khruschev intervened
in the Belgian Congo and our common ground of free and open, non-sectarian,
debate with mutual respect, was gone. We were also active organizing
Pakistani workers through two Pakistan Welfare Associations,
one based in the East End of London (mainly Bengali) and the other
in Slough (Punjabi).
I was a founding member of CARD, the Campaign Against
Racial Discrimination, a UK-based wide multi-racial Organization
of Pakistanis, Indians, West Indians and White British, to join
forces to fight the rising tide of racism. Some of us, so-called
'leaders' of black communities in Britain, were invited by Martin
Luther King at his London hotel to talk about racism in Britain,
when he was on his way to receive his Nobel prize. We met not
only Martin Luther King. We also met each other. We realized that
there was much to be gained from joining forces against racism
In Britain. So we met again and launched CARD. Dr. David Pitt,
a West Indian member of the Greater London Council, who was an
'establishment' figure in the Labor Party, was elected Chairman.
An Indian Maoist and a white American Trotskyite (both women)
were elected Joint Secretaries. At CARD's first national convention
I was elected Vice-Chairman. With David, I was a member of the
National Council of the British Overseas Socialist Fellowship
(Our Chairman was Fenner Brockway).
A decade of political activism was exhilarating. But I could not
keep it up for much longer for a number of reasons. There were
too many problems, some of them personal. So far we had managed
on a small income that my wife had from Tanzania. But that could
not go on. I needed a job, an academic job, simply to live. I
had also to think of making the best use of my time. Our political
activities had turned into full time welfare work for immigrants.
One would get telephone calls from Indian and Pakistanis friends
whenever there was a problem, usually at the airport. One had
to intervene. It was more than I could cope with. I could not
go on like that. I decided to leave political activism and turn
to full time academic work. So in 1966 1 joined the Institute
of Development Studies at the University of Sussex.
FARMING IN TANZANIA
I had come to London from Tanzania. I had gone there after resigning
from the State Bank of Pakistan. I decided to take to farming
! There was an element of romantic escapism in that. Both my wife
and I took it seriously. We spent a several months, at first,
on a derelict farm in the Usumbara Mountains. We lived amongst
local peasants (so-called 'tribal' people) which was great. But
we did not seem to get anywhere when it came to farming. Realizing
that it would take an expert to rehabilitate a derelict farm,
I took a job on a modern farm near Arusha to learn how to farm.
Unfortunately, while I was there I became ill with some peculiar
kind of infection and was taken to Tanga where I was operated,
unnecessarily as I was later told, by a drunken white surgeon
(a character straight out of Hemingway !), After several weeks
when my wound from the operation wound not heal, I was advised
by a doctor to go to London and to get myself sorted out. I needed
two operations and several weeks at the University College Hospital
in London to put me together again. That was a time for reflection,
which brought me back into the real world. We decided to stay
in London. I would find my way into the academic world. But I
was full of deep concern about what had happened to Pakistan.
I was drawn instead into political activism, of which I have given
an account above. I had gone to Tanzania having resigned from
the State Bank of Pakistan. So let me say something about that,
my first career.
MY FIRST CAREER: STATE BANK OFFICIAL
I had joined the Reserve Bank of India in 1945 as a Research Officer
on the recommendation of, indeed at the behest of my supervisor
for Ph.D. at the Gokhale Institute at Poona. Prof. D. R. Gadgil
had been asked by the Reserve Bank to recommend candidates for
their research department. He asked me if I wanted the job. When
I told him that my aim in life was to make a career in the academic
world he said: 'Young man, you had better learn something about
life before you start teaching'. He pointed out that my starting
salary in the Reserve Bank would be far higher than that of a
University Lecturer. 'You can come back to the academic world
at any time on your own terms'. So I joined the Reserve Bank of
India in 1945.
When the Partition was announced Governor Deshmukh called me and
pointed out that too few Muslims officers had opted for Pakistan,
The State Bank of Pakistan would have great problems without trained
officers. It is interesting that a Maharashtrian Brahmin was so
concerned whether the State Bank of Pakistan would be able to
function properly or not. Why should he care? He pointed out that
research was a luxury. The State Bank of Pakistan would need people
who could do practical jobs. He suggested that I should get some
training. So I was put on a program of intensive training in the
Exchange Control Department.
With the Partition I came home to Karachi. Technically we were
to remain under the Reserve Bank of India until July when the
State Bank would take over. But as soon as I found myself in a
position to do so, in March 1948, I decided to take over, de facto
and set up a headquarters for Exchange Control at Karachi which
would give us time to build up our Organization well before the
D-Day.
Everything was in a state of chaos. We moved from crisis to crisis.
Part of the problem was the clerical mentality of many of our
senior colleagues (though with one or two brilliant exceptions--
without them we would have been doomed). Most of the senior officers
were twice my age. Their style of work and thinking had been shaped
by long experience of serving virtually as clerks under White
masters. The first concern of these glorified clerks was personal
survival. As long as they acted in accordance with their precious
manuals no one could hang them. They were petty bureaucrats and
lacked the imagination to see what was at stake. They blocked
innovation at every stage, which took up a lot of our energy when
we tried to get things done. They had neither the will nor the
ability to take responsibility. Mercifully, there were one or
two brilliant exceptions to them. Thanks to them we survived.
I flourished in that climate of successive crises. Looking back
I realize that I had two assets. One was my ignorance. It was
a blessing in disguise that I did not know the manuals backwards
as my senior colleagues did. Those manuals were, in any case,
out of date and had little relevance to our conditions. I realized
that given our situation we will have to write our own manuals.
I actually did just that in 1950 when I compiled the Exchange
Control Manual for the guidance of Banks. Some of us were able
to see things from a fresh perspective. Every time that a problem
landed on my desk, I would work out a logical solution from first
principles and act on it. We were constantly innovating and improving
on old, out of date, systems.
The exchange control system was set up in India in 1939 by a man
called Cayley, a true colonialist. The system that he built up
discriminated blatantly against Indian interests. Cayley had groomed
his successor, a Parsee called Jeejeebhai who carried on in the
same way. In Pakistan I realized that we would have to change
Cayley's system radically, to end discrimination against our own
banks and our own people. I had a great time discovering these
and making changes. I was able to act with confidence as I enjoyed
the full backing of our Ministry of Finance. I had great fun in
a game of one-upmanship with Jeejeebhai, for technically I was
still under him until July 1948. But I set up our own de facto
independent Head Office, in advance of the formal change. Jack
Kennan who soon joined us as my boss, backed what I was doing.
We went in for innovations that the Reserve Bank of India would,
belatedly, copy.
My other asset was sheer naivete. Unlike my petty bureaucratic
colleagues, I assumed that my job was to get things done. I had
not yet absorbed the bureaucratic ethos of first worrying about
saving my skin and not acting unless I was covered by rules or
sanction from a higher authority. Time was always of the essence.
Once I had worked out what needed to be done I would go ahead
and do it. I did not particularly worry about 'covering myself'
by referring the matter to my superiors. In the situation in which
we were at the time of Partition, we could not have survived otherwise.
I soon acquired a reputation of being a 'trouble-shooter', a man
to cope with crises. I had the confidence and backing of Governor
Zahid Hussain and the Ministry of Finance. I could not have carried
on like that without that backing. I rose rapidly in the Bank's
hierarchy.
By 1952 1 was appointed to the rather senior position of Secretary
to the Central Board, i.e. one of five 'Principal Officers' of
the Bank, who ranked after the governor and Deputy Governor. The
job of Secretary to the Central Board, in those days, involved
a lot more than what its name suggests and the work was too much
for one person. The post was later bifurcated into two Executive
Directorships. The name of Jamil Nishtar, who was one of them,
will be familiar to Pakistanis. His was a political appointment.
The other Executive Director, Naziruddin Mahmood, was a seasoned
and competent banker.
RESIGNATION FROM THE BANK
Political pressures, especially from ministers to get things done
for their friends, had always been a problem. I was able to resist
them thanks to my boss, a remarkable Englishman named Jack Kennan,
who took over as the Controller of Foreign Exchange. He was from
the Lloyds Bank in London. I shared an office with him and learnt
a lot from him. He was professionally very competent. Moreover,
unlike Cayley, he was always prepared to consider what was in
Pakistan's best interest rather than that of British Banks or
companies. Equally important, he made it clear from the outset,
to senior bureaucrats and Ministers, that no favors would be done
to anyone. After an unsuccessful attempt or two, Ministers gave
up trying to push him around. This was a man I could shelter behind.
When Kennan left at the end of his contract, I lost my shield.
I had also moved up to more responsible positions and there was
no one behind whom I could now shelter. It was not easy.
The situation became quite intolerable for me after I was sent
to Dacca in 1951-52, with full powers in East Pakistan. I was
based in Dacca but was also responsible for our other office at
Chittagong where I would spend one week in every month. I was
posted to Dacca on a few hours' notice. After we concluded an
agreement with India in 1951, we had to introduce exchange control
with India. This raised new and difficult problems and fears.
East Pakistan had a very large informal trade with India, in fish
and firewood, chicken and eggs, which was handled by enormous
numbers of very small people and carried by country craft. The
Government was afraid that any ham-fisted bureaucratic interference
with that trade could create incalculable and terrible political
repercussions. They needed someone who could be relied upon to
take quick and sensible decisions on the spot and treat the small
fishermen and farmers with understanding,
I had played a role in the negotiations with India. Immediately
when they were concluded I had to prepare instructions for the
Banks (for which I had contingency drafts already). It was a Sunday
morning. Governor Zahid Hussain summoned me to his office. Mumtaz
Hussain, Joint Secretary Finance, who was responsible for State
Bank affairs in the Ministry, was with him. I told them that the
circulars were ready and were being printed. The Banks would have
them on Monday morning. Everything was under control. Zahid Hussain
then told me that in that case I should catch the afternoon plane
to Dacca and take up overall charge in East Pakistan. I was sent
to Dacca at a few hours' notice. Zahid Hussain and Mumtaz Hussain
told me about their worries about East Pakistan, of which I was
already aware. Zahid Hussain gave me my marching orders saying
that I would have complete responsibility and full powers in East
Pakistan. It will be entirely up to you, he said. Mumtaz Hussain
was more emphatic. 'Do what you think best. For God's sake do
not refer anything to Karachi'. They knew that references to Karachi
would mean delay and possibly trouble. It was a heavy burden of
power for me to carry. After all I was as yet only in my late
twenties, even if only just.
No one had gone before to East Pakistan with such a carte blanche.
It was to be expected that I would become the focus of attention.
There were many interests who would want to exploit me. I would
be courted and flattered. I had to be on my guard. Predictably,
soon after I landed In Dacca, Ghulam Faruq, Chairman of the Jute
Board, accompanied with his close friend Mirza Ahmad Ispahani
(who controlled 30% of the Jute trade) called on me at my office
to welcome me to East Pakistan. At first they indulged in predictable
flattery. Ghulam Faruq was a powerful member of the bureaucracy,
an old ICS man who later became a multi-millionaire industrialist
! As Chairman of the Jute Board, he said to me rather patronizingly:
'Young man, I am sure you know nothing about jute. Look at me.
I am a seasoned old official. I have spent my entire career in
Bengal. I still do not know anything about jute. Luckily we have
amongst us Mr. Ispahani who knows everything there is to know
about jute. Jute is in his blood. When I have any problem I consult
him. It would be wise for you to do the same'. Ispahani wanted
to have the State Bank in his hands, just as he had all other
relevant departments of government under his thumb. It was the
beginning of a long struggle.
I was soon fighting a quixotic battle against two of the most
powerful men in East Pakistan. It is a long story. I survived
more by good luck than good sense. I seemed to win every round
in our extra-ordinary contest. But it was a very tense period
for me. I knew that if I made just one slip, they would have me
hanged. Fortunately I had the backing of Governor Zahid Hussain
though I do not think he knew just how the cards were stacked.
It was all very stressful. For the first time I wondered about
resigning from the Bank. My wife in fact suggested it. Not unreasonably
she had long complained that I was 'married to the Bank'. Was
this all worth it, she asked. While I was still thinking about
resigning, I was appointed to the post of Secretary to the Central
Board at Karachi, one of five 'Principal Officers'. of the Bank.
It was sheer vanity that made me set aside thoughts of resigning.
I wanted to hold that post, at least for a while. The promotion
had come rather soon, though I was next in line for it. I half
suspect that it was manipulated by powerful men to get me out
of East Pakistan. I would not put it past them.
My health was deteriorating from overwork. In May 1953 1 was finally
allowed to go on leave. We went to Tanzania to spend time with
my wife's family. It was there that, looking at everything in
perspective and encouraged by my wife's brother who was like a
father to her, I finally decided to resign from the State Bank.
The Bank was astounded by my resignation, for I had given no inkling
of it and there was no immediate reason for it. Except perhaps
for Governor Zahid Hussain. He had an almost fatherly affection
for me. During our travels together we had opportunities to talk
freely and from the heart. He knew that I had hankered after an
academic life though he never thought that it was anymore a serious
option for me. When I resigned he wrote to me a personal letter
in which he said: 'I knew that you had inclinations for an academic
career but I had formed the impression that having cast your lot
in the Bank you did not feel that you could turn back and do something
else. As you know I had the greatest regard for you and every
confidence that you were destined for a big career in the Bank.
You had in fact already reached a senior position in its service
and with a large number of years before you, there was indeed
no place beyond your reach.' However, Zahid Hussain seemed to
have accepted the fact that my decision was final for he added
that: 'It has been my innermost wish to do something in the educational
field. ... When I do so I shall look forward to association with
you which I will value'. Zahid Hussain was a passionate nationalist
and could be regarded as an advance representative of Pakistan's
nascent bourgeoisie. He was against an unconditional red carpet
given to foreign capital and equally he was committed to land
reforms. Later when we met In London in 1956 he spoke to me of
his plan to set up a research Institute and three associated weekly
journals modeled on the London Economist, published simultaneously
in English, Urdu and Bengali which, he hoped, would generate in
the country an understanding of our problems and generate support
for independent national development. He said that he had already
secured the needed financial backing for the project. He believed
that it would lift political debate in the country to a new and
higher level. Sadly he died of heart failure within days of our
meeting, during his flight back to Pakistan.
It was the Deputy Governor, however, who was in charge of the
Establishment and had to deal with my resignation. He thought
differently. He and the Central Board could not understand why
I had decided to throw away my exceptional career. Given our careerist
values, my decision did not seem to him to be rational, I suspect
that the only explanation of my insane action that he could think
of was that I had suffered some kind of a breakdown. After all
I had worked under unrelenting pressure for 5 years without respite.
He therefor got the Central Board to offer me, exceptionally,
9 months leave with full pay. He wrote to me: 'This is not the
time to make plans for the future. You have been working very
hard and under great pressure. Now is the time to rest a bit.
'You and your wife, have a good time and recover your health.
There will be plenty of time to take big decisions after that.'
He asked me not to decide about my future until the end of my
leave. I was free to return or not to - there were no strings
attached. It seems that they were sure that I was bound to go
back to the Bank, once I had got back to my senses. No one who
was already at the peak of his career at a young age, would do
otherwise.
Knowing that I had no wish to return, I felt that it would be
unethical just to draw salary for the extra leave. So I wrote
to the Bank telling them that as my decision was already final
I would not take advantage of their generosity. So ended my first
career.
EDUCATION
School education:
My grandfather, a businessman, was a dedicated educationalist.
When he died the daily Dawn published a long obituary notice,
describing him as 'Sir Syed Ahmad Khan of Sindh'. He was an old
Khilafatist who knew and greatly admired Dr. Ansari. He was committed
to the education of the urban poor. He wanted his grandson to
understand the way in which the urban poor live. I was sent to
Municipal Primary Schools in Soldier Bazaar and (for some time)
Khadda, where my class mates came from slum areas. It was good
social education for a middle class boy. After that in the Karachi
Academy High School I was put in the B stream where the bulk of
the students again came from very poor backgrounds. I developed
a social conscience and became a socialist before I ever heard
the word.
University: D.J. Sindh College, Karachi then Wadia College, Poona (B.A., Bombay University), Aligarh Muslim University (M.A.). Then, finally, the Gokhale Institute at Poona for Ph.D. At the Gokhale Institute I worked under Prof. D. R. Gadgil on whose suggestion (at whose behest I should rather say) I joined the Reserve Bank of India, Central Office, at Bombay as Research Officer.
Books Edited
South Asia - Sociology of Developing Societies (with John Harriss), Macmillan Press London Monthly Review Press New York, 1989
State and Ideology in the Middle East and Pakistan, (With Fred Halliday) Macmillan Press, London /Monthly Review Press, New York, 1988
Capitalism and Colonial Production (with Doug McEachem et. al.) Croom Helm, London 1983
Introduction to Sociology of the 'Developing Societies' (with Teodor Shanin) Macmillan Press, London/ Monthly Review Press, New York, 1982
Rural Development in Bangladesh and Pakistan (with
R. Stevens and P. Bertocci) University of Hawaii Press, Honolulu,
1976
Sections of Books
Articles in Journals