Ittefaqnama spelt trouble from Day-One
By Najam Sethi
We first got into trouble with Nawaz Sharif after the Ittefaqnama began to appear regularly on the back page. I think it was in 1992 when I detected that Hussain Haqqani, Nawaz' press secretary, was wont to make unflattering off-the-record remarks about his lord and master behind his back. Was Hussain unhappy and thinking of jumping ship, I wondered, and decided to test the waters. "We're thinking of writing Nawaz's diary on the back page of TFT like we did BB's when she was PM", I ventured one day, "but we don't know his mannerisms and habits and turn of phrase too well. Can you help us?" Hussain was tickled pink. He began to regale me with inside stories that made Nawaz look like a fumbling idiot. I decided to strike while the iron was hot. "Can you write a short diary and send it to me as an example of what Ittefaqnama should be like", I asked. That brought Hussain down to earth with a thud. "Do you want him to kick my ***", he shot back, alarmed. I soothed his feathers, massaged his ego and swore on everything I held sacred that his identity would be protected. Hussain's adrenalin began to pump and soon he had reverted to his usually devilish mood. "I'm going to fax something to you in the next 30 minutes", he signed off, "but tear up the fax after you've read it". In no time at all, I had the first draft of the Ittefaqnama in my hands. It was a bit timid, which was understandable, but along the right lines. So Jugnu and I went to work on it and before long we had a hard hitting version ready to go to press. In due course, Hussain became an invaluable source of information and inspiration, until he bid farewell to Nawaz and joined BB a year later. The Ittefaqnama acquired a life of its own and Jugnu ended up creating an entirely new genre.
Nawaz would probably never have read the Ittefaqnama if he hadn't been told about it by his advisors. So he took umbrage at being portrayed as the village idiot. By that time, stories about his government's corruption had also begun to appear in SuchGup. So one day, via interlocutor Shahid Rafi (then DC Lahore, I think), I was 'invited' to a meeting with Shahbaz Sharif in the PM's house in Islamabad where Shahbaz rubbished TFT as a "rag" that was "beneath the dignity" of a distinguished person such as me. "You come from a respectable business family", he reminded me, "why don't you set up a sugar mill? We'll arrange for the financing". I quickly begged leave.
When the Itefaqnama continued in full force on the back page, Jugnu and I were summoned to the office of DIG Rana Maqbool in Lahore. The good DIG advised us to desist from mocking the PM and his family, failing which he bluntly threatened to unleash the thugs of the Muslim Students Federation upon us. "What if your office were to be bombed by some Nawaz-lover in anger?", he asked menacingly. As I made to get up and leave, Jugnu flew into a rage and let him have it. "Listen Mr DIG", she hissed like a true blue-blooded feudal, "my family has lived here for 500 years and will endure for another 500 years while glorified clerks like you and upstarts like your Sharifs will come and go. You don't scare us because you're all cowards. Do what you like". And with that she stormed out of the DIG's office. Three days later, five bearded and armed thugs barged their way into Vanguard Books on The Mall above which TFT's office was located. They abused and manhandled the staff and demanded to see me. But before they could wend their way up the stairs at the back to TFT, the cashier picked up the intercom and warned me. We locked the office from the inside and I jumped over the roof of the next door building and escaped.
The harassment now began in earnest. 3 am abusive phone calls threatening rape and kidnapping, mysterious cars following us all over the city. I wrote a confidential letter to the Governor, CM, CJ, COAS, warning that if anything happenened to me or my family I would hold the PM responsible. There was no acknowledgment from anyone. Eventually. Jugnu tied up with Maleeha Lodhi, then the editor of The News, and the two of them called on President Ghulam Ishaq Khan and apprised him of their problems. Mr Khan assured them he "deplored the fascist tendencies of the ruling party" and would resolve the problem. Two days later I received a call from Chaudhry Nisar Ali Khan, one of the then five pyaras of the PM, inviting me to Islamabad for 'parleys'.
Chaudhry Sahib offered me a great cuppa coffee and appreciated the humour of the back page like a true connoisseur. But he said the PM had no sense of humour and had unleashed Brigadier Imtiaz "Billa" against us. He was adamant that TFT would have to be shut down if it didn't mend fences. "No more Itefaqnama", he ordered, "hands off any criticism of the five pyaras of the PM, and devote four pages every week to the great and good things we do". It was a tall and unacceptable order. Three months later, in April 1993, Nawaz Sharif's government fell under the weight of its authoritarianism and we breathed a sigh of relief.
A year later, a solitary figure drove into our house in his Pajero and made himself comfortable in our drawing room. It was Nawaz Sharif. "I have come to apologise" he said, "I didn't know what was being done to you". Sure, we thought, as we politely passed him a cup of tea, tell us another. Then Jugnu explained the rationale for the Ittefaqnama to him. "Such columns are only written about important public personalities," she said, pointing out how the British press was flaunting the "diaries" of Prince Charles, Lady Diana and even Margaret Thather's husband Denis. "In that case", he remarked rather gallantly, "you may continue with it". In power, Nawaz was like a savage panther. Out of it, he was like a purring kitten. We were to rediscover this truth in 1999 when he became prime minister again and lunged for us once more.
Najam Sethi
By Najam Sethi
We first got into trouble with Nawaz Sharif after the Ittefaqnama began to appear regularly on the back page. I think it was in 1992 when I detected that Hussain Haqqani, Nawaz' press secretary, was wont to make unflattering off-the-record remarks about his lord and master behind his back. Was Hussain unhappy and thinking of jumping ship, I wondered, and decided to test the waters. "We're thinking of writing Nawaz's diary on the back page of TFT like we did BB's when she was PM", I ventured one day, "but we don't know his mannerisms and habits and turn of phrase too well. Can you help us?" Hussain was tickled pink. He began to regale me with inside stories that made Nawaz look like a fumbling idiot. I decided to strike while the iron was hot. "Can you write a short diary and send it to me as an example of what Ittefaqnama should be like", I asked. That brought Hussain down to earth with a thud. "Do you want him to kick my ***", he shot back, alarmed. I soothed his feathers, massaged his ego and swore on everything I held sacred that his identity would be protected. Hussain's adrenalin began to pump and soon he had reverted to his usually devilish mood. "I'm going to fax something to you in the next 30 minutes", he signed off, "but tear up the fax after you've read it". In no time at all, I had the first draft of the Ittefaqnama in my hands. It was a bit timid, which was understandable, but along the right lines. So Jugnu and I went to work on it and before long we had a hard hitting version ready to go to press. In due course, Hussain became an invaluable source of information and inspiration, until he bid farewell to Nawaz and joined BB a year later. The Ittefaqnama acquired a life of its own and Jugnu ended up creating an entirely new genre.
Nawaz would probably never have read the Ittefaqnama if he hadn't been told about it by his advisors. So he took umbrage at being portrayed as the village idiot. By that time, stories about his government's corruption had also begun to appear in SuchGup. So one day, via interlocutor Shahid Rafi (then DC Lahore, I think), I was 'invited' to a meeting with Shahbaz Sharif in the PM's house in Islamabad where Shahbaz rubbished TFT as a "rag" that was "beneath the dignity" of a distinguished person such as me. "You come from a respectable business family", he reminded me, "why don't you set up a sugar mill? We'll arrange for the financing". I quickly begged leave.
When the Itefaqnama continued in full force on the back page, Jugnu and I were summoned to the office of DIG Rana Maqbool in Lahore. The good DIG advised us to desist from mocking the PM and his family, failing which he bluntly threatened to unleash the thugs of the Muslim Students Federation upon us. "What if your office were to be bombed by some Nawaz-lover in anger?", he asked menacingly. As I made to get up and leave, Jugnu flew into a rage and let him have it. "Listen Mr DIG", she hissed like a true blue-blooded feudal, "my family has lived here for 500 years and will endure for another 500 years while glorified clerks like you and upstarts like your Sharifs will come and go. You don't scare us because you're all cowards. Do what you like". And with that she stormed out of the DIG's office. Three days later, five bearded and armed thugs barged their way into Vanguard Books on The Mall above which TFT's office was located. They abused and manhandled the staff and demanded to see me. But before they could wend their way up the stairs at the back to TFT, the cashier picked up the intercom and warned me. We locked the office from the inside and I jumped over the roof of the next door building and escaped.
The harassment now began in earnest. 3 am abusive phone calls threatening rape and kidnapping, mysterious cars following us all over the city. I wrote a confidential letter to the Governor, CM, CJ, COAS, warning that if anything happenened to me or my family I would hold the PM responsible. There was no acknowledgment from anyone. Eventually. Jugnu tied up with Maleeha Lodhi, then the editor of The News, and the two of them called on President Ghulam Ishaq Khan and apprised him of their problems. Mr Khan assured them he "deplored the fascist tendencies of the ruling party" and would resolve the problem. Two days later I received a call from Chaudhry Nisar Ali Khan, one of the then five pyaras of the PM, inviting me to Islamabad for 'parleys'.
Chaudhry Sahib offered me a great cuppa coffee and appreciated the humour of the back page like a true connoisseur. But he said the PM had no sense of humour and had unleashed Brigadier Imtiaz "Billa" against us. He was adamant that TFT would have to be shut down if it didn't mend fences. "No more Itefaqnama", he ordered, "hands off any criticism of the five pyaras of the PM, and devote four pages every week to the great and good things we do". It was a tall and unacceptable order. Three months later, in April 1993, Nawaz Sharif's government fell under the weight of its authoritarianism and we breathed a sigh of relief.
A year later, a solitary figure drove into our house in his Pajero and made himself comfortable in our drawing room. It was Nawaz Sharif. "I have come to apologise" he said, "I didn't know what was being done to you". Sure, we thought, as we politely passed him a cup of tea, tell us another. Then Jugnu explained the rationale for the Ittefaqnama to him. "Such columns are only written about important public personalities," she said, pointing out how the British press was flaunting the "diaries" of Prince Charles, Lady Diana and even Margaret Thather's husband Denis. "In that case", he remarked rather gallantly, "you may continue with it". In power, Nawaz was like a savage panther. Out of it, he was like a purring kitten. We were to rediscover this truth in 1999 when he became prime minister again and lunged for us once more.
Najam Sethi
