Pakistan: The Lady & the Field Marshal

East Pakistan last week went wild over Fatima Jinnah. Nearly 250,000 people turned out to see her in Dacca, and a million lined the 293-mile route from there to Chittagong. Her train, called the Freedom Special, was 22 hours late because men at each station pulled the emergency cord, and begged her to speak. The crowds hailed her as “Mother of the Nation,” and when she asked, “Are you with me?”, hands waved wildly in the air.

The ovations were for a silvery-haired woman of 71 who has the fresh face of a young girl and the sharp tongue of an impatient schoolmistress. In next month’s national election, she is challenging Pakistan’s President Mohammed Ayub Khan, and the tough field marshal has never had to cope with anything quite like her. Miss Jinnah was clearly getting under his skin. “She is an old recluse and weak-minded,” said Ayub. “If you vote for her, you will be inviting chaos.”

Ayub had not expected that the ragtag collection of opposition parties, ranging from crypto-Communists to right-wing orthodox Moslems, would unite behind a single candidate. But unite they did behind the revered sister of the late Mohammed Ali Jinnah, the Quaid-i-Azam (Great Leader) and founding father of Pakistan. Trained as a dental surgeon (she practiced only a year), Fatima Jinnah’s experience in politics was limited to campaigning with and for her brother.

Bigwig Captain. But she has shown a gift for playing on all kinds of grievances, legitimate and otherwise. She decries Pakistan’s poverty, particularly in the remote eastern half of the country, which has long felt bitterly that it is being neglected by the government. She harps on corruption, and especially on the swift advancement of Ayub Khan’s eldest son, Gauhar, who resigned his army captaincy to become a bigwig in Ghandara Industries, which took over a General Motors assembly plant after the U.S. owners sold out for a million dollars. Above all, she keeps accusing Ayub of being a dictator.

By Western standards, he is. He controls the press, has jailed many opponents. But Ayub is really no more dictatorial than most Asian or African rulers, and more effective than many. After he seized power six years ago from a democratic but corrupt government, Ayub paternalistically promulgated the very constitution under which the general elections are being held. Among other things, Ayub’s constitution allows women to run for office-something he may now regret. He developed a system of indirect elections called “Basic Democracy,” under which voters are to choose 80,000 “basic democrats,” or electors, who will cast their ballots next spring to elect a President. The men behind Fatima Jinnah, Ayub insists, want to make Pakistan “a paradise for politicians and a hell for the people.”

Food for Souls. Ayub has greatly improved Pakistan’s still wretched economy. Despite protests from religious conservatives, he promotes birth control to curb overpopulation. Without control, says Ayub, “in ten years human beings will be eating human beings in Pakistan.” As for his son’s career, Ayub says rather lamely that he likes to see all young men get ahead.

Miss Jinnah concedes there has been economic progress, but argues: “Even those who are well off miss their freedom. You know, you also need food for the soul.” Bending down to stroke her black poodle, she adds: “What is the difference between this dog and myself? I feed him and look after him. Yet he wants to go out and have his own freedom-whether I like it or not.” She has no illusions about winning the election, even if she captures a majority of the 80,000 “basic democrats,” since the government will have five months to win them over to Ayub Khan.