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From The Marxist Archives... The Question Of Leon Trotsky's Theory Of Permanent Revolution Writ Large-Lessons For The 21st Century Socialist Struggle-Pakistan: Bloody Origins of the Z.A. Bhutto Regime: Hidden History of the 1968-69 Workers Upsurge


  
Workers Vanguard No. 1057
28 November 2014
 
Pakistan: Bloody Origins of the Z.A. Bhutto Regime
Part One: Hidden History of the 1968-69 Workers Upsurge
We reprint below the first part of an article based on a presentation by Workers Vanguard Editorial Board member Bruce André to a July 2013 meeting in London held by the Spartacist League/Britain, which published the article in Workers Hammer Nos. 227 and 228 (Summer and Autumn 2014).
In late 1968 and early 1969 a great popular uprising shook Pakistan. What began as a student protest against the military dictatorship of General Mohammad Ayub Khan soon spread, as the Bengalis of East Pakistan (today Bangladesh) revolted. The industrial working class demonstrated its power, virtually shutting down the country at the height of the movement in March 1969. Events showed the potential for the proletariat, drawing behind it the peasantry and the oppressed nationalities, to lead a revolutionary assault on the bourgeois order.
The historic opportunity was squandered, the outbreak of anger futilely channelled into support for a wing of the Army high command, led by General Yahya Khan, which promised elections to a constituent assembly and a democratic constitution. Crucial in bringing the uprising to heel was bourgeois politician Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, the father of Benazir Bhutto. The scion of one of the most prominent families of landed aristocrats in Sindh province, Z.A. Bhutto had been one of Ayub Khan’s most trusted lieutenants. He had served loyally for some seven years as the regime arrested Communists en masse, murderously repressed nationalist forces in Balochistan [in southwest Pakistan] and, in March 1963, gunned down more than 40 people to crush a general strike in Karachi led by textile mill workers.
Pakistan’s 1965 war with India over Kashmir—a reactionary war in which the working class had no side—was a key turning point in Bhutto’s career. The Pakistani military’s poor showing provoked a bitter backlash against the regime among much of the population. Following the signing of a January 1966 armistice agreement in Tashkent, student demonstrations erupted in cities throughout the country. Despite being a principal architect of the war, Bhutto emerged as a national hero, denouncing the Tashkent accords (which he had helped negotiate) and accusing the regime of having given away at the peace table what the generals claimed they had won on the battlefield. In November 1967, Bhutto launched his Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) based on a combination of virulent anti-Indian chauvinism, “socialist” demagogy and paeans to Islam.
Much of the generation of leftists and working-class leaders carried to the fore in 1968-69 gave open or backhanded support to Bhutto’s PPP, a thoroughly bourgeois party, as did a number of established trade-union leaders. Renouncing the struggle for socialist revolution, they built support for this ultra-patriot, and reinforced the continued class rule of the large landowners and the bourgeoisie. Without a Leninist party to wage an irreconcilable struggle against the national-liberal bourgeoisie, the combative proletariat remained politically subordinate to the capitalist class enemy. The essential lesson to be drawn from that experience is that the working class must have its own political leadership independent of all the agencies and representatives of capitalist rule.
The national oppression of the Bengalis was of vital importance in 1968-69. The most powerful strikes were centred in West Pakistan, where the country’s industry was concentrated. In East Pakistan, separated from the rest of the country by 1,000 miles of hostile Indian territory, the peasant revolt was strongest. There the upsurge was largely directed against the national oppression suffered by the Bengalis at the hands of the Punjabi-dominated Pakistani state. In order for the working class to lead the peasant masses in an assault on the capitalist order, it was necessary for the proletariat to champion the Bengalis’ right of national self-determination. Bhutto, in contrast, was a staunch supporter of the system by which the ruling class in West Pakistan oppressed and exploited the Bengalis in the East.
In the course of this talk, I will be debunking myths presented in two books that purport to provide a Marxist view of this history. The first book is Pakistan’s Other Story: The Revolution of 1968-69 by Lal Khan, published in 2008. He is the leader of the Struggle group, Pakistani section of the late Ted Grant’s International Marxist Tendency. Grant’s British followers were an organic part of the Labour Party for decades as the Militant tendency. Internationally, these abject reformists have a tradition of liquidation—even into outright capitalist parties. For most of its existence, the Struggle group has been ensconced in the PPP. The many omissions and distortions in Lal Khan’s book serve to gloss over the brutal crimes of Pakistan’s capitalist rulers, especially those committed by Z.A. Bhutto.
The other book that I will critique is Pakistan: Military Rule or People’s Power? by Tariq Ali, published in London in 1970. Not only is Tariq Ali’s book widely cited by bourgeois academic historians, it has been highly influential in educating Pakistani leftists. It presents a distorted picture, seen through the eyes of a radical of the 1960s generation who touted “red universities” as revolutionary bastions and looked to peasant-based guerrilla warfare as the road to socialism in Third World countries. Nothing in Pakistan: Military Rule or People’s Power? gives a hint that the working class, which played a decisive role in those events, is the force with the social power to overthrow the capitalist order and open the road to socialism. The book’s title points to what Ali saw as the alternative to military rule: a struggle for “people’s power” in which the working class is just another sector of the people.
At the time, Tariq Ali was a leading cadre of the fake-Trotskyist United Secretariat of the Fourth International (USec). His book is a classic example of Pabloism, a revisionist tendency that rejects the struggle to forge Trotskyist parties and instead acts as a pressure group on social-democratic, Stalinist and non-proletarian forces. Under the leadership of Michel Pablo, this tendency destroyed the Trotskyist Fourth International in the early 1950s.
In Pakistan: Military Rule or People’s Power?, Tariq Ali argues that: “Although Bhutto deserved support in his courageous stand against the Ayub dictatorship, it was also necessary that his party programme should be subjected to a severe critique by socialists.” Though revolutionary socialists may defend the likes of Bhutto against state repression, we give no political support to capitalist politicians as a matter of principle. But not only does Tariq Ali give no hint of what a “severe critique” of Bhutto’s programme would have looked like, he writes out of the historical record facts that would be key to such a critique. There is no mention of Bhutto’s virulent anti-Indian chauvinism. No mention of his close ties to a section of the officer corps. No mention of his opposition to the Bengali national struggle. And not a word about the call for a constituent assembly, a bourgeois parliament, the device by which Bhutto and the officers around Yahya Khan were able to derail the upsurge. Tariq Ali’s narrative, which ends with Yahya’s coming to power, provides no idea of why Bhutto would rush to embrace the declaration of martial law.
Tariq Ali’s political influence among radicalised youth was apparent during his tour of Pakistan in February-March 1969, at the height of the upsurge, when he addressed massive rallies. The programme that Tariq Ali offered—political prostration before Bhutto—comes through in his articles from the time in Black Dwarf (which he edited) and in Intercontinental Press, published by the USec. Nowhere in those articles is there a serious political criticism of Bhutto. Even as Bhutto was declaring his support for the March 1969 military takeover, Tariq Ali’s journal could conjure up nothing more incisive about the PPP than: “It talks about socialism constantly and to its credit but without knowing what this would entail” (Black Dwarf, 18 April 1969).
British Colonialism and the Origins of Pakistan
The state of Pakistan is an artificial creation whose boundaries were arbitrarily drawn by the British colonial rulers in the bloody Partition of India. As the Indian masses revolted against colonial oppression with the 1942 Quit India movement, the British overlords stepped up their policy of fomenting communal hatreds. As a result, the oppressed Hindu, Muslim and Sikh masses turned their fury against each other—away from their colonial oppressors, and from the Indian capitalists and landed aristocracy. Partition, which was the culmination of two centuries of divide-and-rule, was carried out under a British Labour government in 1947. It unleashed communal slaughter on an enormous scale and led to one of the largest forced migrations in history. The British rulers withdrew from the subcontinent without the ignominy of defeat at the hands of their colonial slaves—a defeat that would have shaken the rest of the colonial world and Britain itself. They left behind a subcontinent aflame in violence, partitioned into majority-Hindu India and the Muslim confessional state of Pakistan.
The idea that Pakistan represented a form of national self-determination for the Muslims of the Indian subcontinent was—and remains today—an utter fraud. Pakistan is a multinational state in which the mainly Punjabi ruling elite, persisting from British rule, brutally lords it over the Baloch people, the Pashtuns and other oppressed nationalities and ethnicities. This “prison house of peoples” is held together largely through stark repression. The army has ruled throughout Pakistan’s history, either directly or behind a thin cover of parliamentary democracy. It is intimately intertwined with the state bureaucracy in an infernal machine that enforces everything reactionary in Pakistani society, from bonded labour and caste oppression to religious fundamentalism and the all-sided oppression of women.
Like the rest of the subcontinent, Pakistan is an extreme example of combined and uneven development. Modern industry and an industrial proletariat have been superimposed on a largely peasant-based society and coexist with frightfully backward social conditions. While the landed aristocracy, textile bosses and upper echelons of the military plunder the country’s wealth, the poverty of the labouring masses can be gauged by the fact that childhood malnutrition is more acute than in much of sub-Saharan Africa.
Trotsky’s perspective of permanent revolution provides the Marxist programme for carrying out the revolutionary transformation of economically backward countries that came to capitalist development in the epoch of imperialism. Central to this programme is the understanding that in such countries, bourgeois-democratic gains such as national emancipation, land to the tiller, legal equality of women and the separation of religion and the state require the overthrow of the capitalist order through socialist revolution in which the proletariat comes forward as the leader of all the oppressed, above all the peasant masses. This was the programme on which the Bolshevik Party, under the leadership of Lenin and Trotsky, carried the Russian Revolution of October 1917 to victory.
Just as the Bolsheviks saw the October Revolution as the opening shot of a broader European-wide revolution, communists in the subcontinent need to view revolutions in their countries in an international framework. The struggles for liberation of all the exploited and oppressed of the Indian subcontinent are closely interlinked, requiring the revolutionary overthrow of the bourgeoisies in India, Pakistan and Bangladesh and the establishment of a socialist federation of South Asia. Ultimately the capitalist system must be destroyed at its strongest points, the advanced industrial states. The proletarians of the more backward countries must be linked to their class brothers and sisters in the West through an international of Leninist-Trotskyist parties.
At Partition, Pakistan inherited a mere nine per cent of the industrial establishments of the subcontinent, and control of that industry was concentrated in West Pakistan. Before Bangladeshi independence, the Punjabi-dominated regime exploited East Pakistan as an impoverished semi-colony. All major industries in East Pakistan were in the hands of the families which dominated West Pakistan—the Adamjee and Dawood families were prominent examples. The wealth generated by the peasantry in East Pakistan was appropriated by the capitalists in West Pakistan through the following scheme: agricultural products produced in East Pakistan, especially jute, accounted for most of the country’s export earnings. A system of tariffs and quotas prevented these earnings being used to purchase goods on the world market. East Pakistan thus became a captive market, forced to purchase high-priced goods from West Pakistan. The result was a massive transfer of East Pakistan’s export earnings to West Pakistan, where they were invested in industry and led to the rapid growth of the bourgeoisie.
The Pakistani ruling class proved unable to erect even a facade of parliamentary rule. Pakistan’s largest oppressed nationality, the Bengalis, accounted for a majority of the country’s population. So, introducing democratic elections risked undermining Punjabi domination. In 1956, the central government finally came up with a constitution which avoided the principle of “one man, one vote.” Firstly, the constitution instituted “parity” between East and West Pakistan: Bengal could not get more than half the seats in the National Assembly. Secondly, the four provinces of what was called the West Wing were consolidated into a single province, West Pakistan. This so-called “one-unit plan” undercut the ability of the Bengalis to form a coalition with other oppressed nationalities in the West. As a sop to the Bengalis, their language was accorded official status along with Urdu.
Bhutto Supports Anti-Bengali Repression
When the Ayub regime was discredited as a result of the ’65 war with India, this put wind in the sails of the Bengali nationalists. In February 1966, Bengali leader Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s petty-bourgeois nationalist Awami League issued a Six-Point Programme. This called for Pakistan to become a federation of the two wings, each with the power to define its own fiscal and monetary policies, sign international commercial treaties and raise its own armed forces. The federal government would be responsible solely for national defence and foreign affairs. This was a plan not for national liberation of East Bengal but for renegotiating the terms of its subordination to the regime. The Six-Point Programme represented the interests of the upper levels of the petty bourgeoisie, whose development into a capitalist class was stymied by West Pakistan’s economic stranglehold. In contrast, we raised the demand for Bengali national self-determination, including the right to unite with the Bengalis in India and to form a separate state.
The Ayub regime reacted to the declaration of the Six Points with characteristic brutality, unleashing a wave of repression against the Awami League leadership. Mujibur Rahman and other League leaders were imprisoned—they would be freed three years later as a result of the mass upsurge. A 7 June 1966 hartal (general strike) called to protest their arrests set off an explosion. Strikers, some armed with shotguns, attacked the police station in Narayanganj as well as government buildings in Dhaka, the capital of East Pakistan, and trashed the home of the Parliamentary Secretary. At least ten were gunned down by the police. Clashes continued for months; by the end of 1966 hundreds of Bengalis had been killed by security forces.
That murderous crackdown was launched amid a wave of hostility against the Bengali nationalists, which Bhutto helped to whip up in one last service to the Ayub regime before he was forced out of the government. In March 1966, Bhutto helped get the leadership of Ayub’s Convention Muslim League to vote a motion denouncing the Awami League’s “sinister conspiracy” and calling on the government “to take all necessary steps in order to meet the challenge of this treasonable campaign and preserve and protect the ideology of Islam and the integrity of the Muslim homeland” (Pakistan Times, 21 March 1966). What Bhutto meant by “all necessary steps” was perfectly clear in light of the Pakistani rulers’ history of murderous repression against the Bengalis and other oppressed nationalities.
Following Bhutto’s exit from the Ayub government, after he had raised the ire of Washington with anti-American rhetoric, Pakistani Maoists pulled out all the stops to mobilise support for him. The National Student Federation (NSF), in which the Maoists had substantial weight, declared: “Mr Bhutto represents the youth in this country in his vigour, intellect, honesty and devotion.” The key to the Maoists’ unholy alliance with Bhutto was that, as Ayub’s foreign minister after the 1962 border war between India and China, Bhutto had been the public face for a pro-China tilt in Pakistani foreign policy. While the Maoists did the legwork to round up support for him, Bhutto cultivated his ties with the military command. According to Ayub’s former Air Force commander-in-chief, Bhutto “maintained good personal relations with important Generals throughout his tenure as a minister in Ayub Khan’s cabinet and had done his utmost to retain these links even after his exit from the government” (Mohammed Asghar Khan, Generals in Politics: Pakistan 1958-1982 [1983]).
During speaking tours in the summer of 1967, Bhutto experimented with a leftist image. After supporting the U.S. war in Vietnam as foreign minister, Bhutto now began to oppose it. For the first time in his life, he started to slip the word “socialism” into his speeches—while always insisting that it was based on the principles of Islam. He discovered that not only did he not gag when he pronounced the word “socialism” but his audiences loved it. As one of Bhutto’s biographers put it: “His move towards socialism was graded very carefully. Only after he was sure of the public response did his demands gradually become more strident” (Salmaan Taseer, Bhutto: A Political Biography [1980]).
Anti-India diatribes, including the call for a “thousand year” confrontation over Kashmir, were a stock theme in Bhutto’s speeches. Bhutto called for military training on campuses, arguing that “the masses should be prepared for a people’s war” over Kashmir. In this, he echoed a section of the Pakistani military that had latched onto the notion of “people’s war” as a way of compensating for India’s military superiority. Lal Khan’s Struggle group lauds Bhutto’s call for a “people’s army,” implying that he was for a people’s militia as opposed to a standing army. This is simply a gross falsification. As we will see later, when Bhutto came to power and formed a paramilitary goon squad to brutalise worker militants and political opponents, he claimed it was a “people’s army.”
Founding of the Pakistan People’s Party
In November 1967, Bhutto held the founding convention of the PPP. Joining the coterie of landowning aristocrats was a rogues’ gallery of Muslim League has-beens and Maoists, and two maulvis (Muslim priests) as guarantors of the party’s Islamic credentials. (During the convention, both maulvis took the floor to affirm that socialism is compatible with Islam.) Not surprisingly, given Bhutto’s well-known backing of state repression against the Bengali nationalists, East Pakistan was not represented.
After hearing renderings from the Koran, the assembled luminaries turned their attention to the PPP’s Foundation Documents. They denounced the Awami League’s Six-Point Programme as opening the road to independence for East Pakistan and declared flatly: “Pakistan is one nation and not two.” One document pledged to “maintain the policy of confrontation” over Kashmir. And to make sure that there was no mistaking the party’s commitment to Islam, another announced (in capital letters): “WE PROMISE TO CONTINUE THE JEHAD UNTIL GOD’S EARTH IS LIT UP WITH DIVINE LIGHT.”
We characterised the PPP’s programme in those days as “landlord socialism” (Workers Vanguard No. 16, February 1973). One of the PPP’s Foundation Documents affirmed that the party was for “the transformation of Pakistan into a socialist society.” Yet the Declaration of Principles did not call for a single hectare of land redistribution. Most of the Declaration was penned by Jalaludin Abdur Rahim. The military regime’s ambassador to France, Rahim threw in his lot with Bhutto as his diplomatic career was coming to a close. J.A. Rahim was the personification of “landlord socialism.” He led the fight at the founding convention against including any call for land reform in the Declaration of Principles. At the same time, he wrote into that document that the PPP was for “a classless society.” That phrase has been cited ad nauseam by the Struggle group as the basis for their call for the PPP to “return to its original Socialist manifesto.”
The PPP founding manifesto promised extensive nationalisations of banking and industry, which Bhutto’s leftist camp-followers pretended was directed against capitalism. The landowning aristocrats who controlled the PPP saw things differently. The industrial bourgeoisie that had initially developed in Pakistan consisted predominantly of mohajir traders—Urdu-speaking émigrés from India. That generated considerable resentment among Pakistan’s rural elites, especially in Sindh [province] where the PPP had its strongest base. They were intent on getting a piece of the action for themselves. When it came to power, the PPP did carry out the promised nationalisations. The primary pathway for wealthy Pakistanis to accumulate capital then became access to the PPP and its allies in the state bureaucracy. The country’s (former) Sindhi president Asif Ali Zardari, one of the richest individuals in Pakistan, can thank Bhutto for initiating the policies that got him where he is.
Tufail Abbas, the main Maoist leader in Karachi, brought his student followers in the NSF leadership, such as Mairaj Mohammad Khan, to the PPP founding convention. Abbas was the head of the Airways Employees Union at Pakistan International Airlines. With influence among students and links in the labour movement, he was instrumental in helping to jump-start the PPP. Bhutto gave Mairaj Mohammad Khan, a member of Abbas’ group, a leadership post in the Karachi PPP, where he served as a lackey to the big Sindhi landlord who ran the party in that city.
The Maoists’ support for Bhutto was based on the Stalinist dogma of two-stage revolution, in which the first stage is supposed to be a “democratic revolution.” This means subordinating the proletariat to a supposedly progressive wing of the bourgeoisie, while postponing the second stage, proletarian revolution, to the indefinite future—that is, never. In the many countries where this has been put into practice, from China in 1925-27 to Iraq in 1958-59 to Indonesia in 1965-66, the result was never bourgeois democracy, much less socialism, but the slaughter of leftists, workers and peasants. As we will see in greater detail later in this talk, the Maoists’ political alliance with Bhutto would have disastrous consequences for the working class. Lal Khan and the Struggle group never fail to criticise the conception of “democratic revolution” that underlay the Maoists’ support to Bhutto. But the lesson they draw has nothing to do with opposing class collaboration. They simply support Bhutto in the name of socialism.
After the founding of the PPP, Bhutto launched a barnstorming campaign of speeches attacking the Ayub regime. He summarised his programme in Political Situation in Pakistan, written in June 1968, which culminates in the call for “a popular government” to carry out “reform of the constitutional structure.” Lal Khan assures us: “At that time in his speeches Bhutto was advocating revolutionary socialism.” A more accurate take appears in Salman Rushdie’s satirical novel Shame, in which the fictional character “Isky” Harappa parodies “Zulfi” Bhutto: “He toured the villages and promised every peasant one acre of land and a new water-well.... He screamed in regional dialects about the rape of the country by fat cats and tilyars [mohajirs], and such was the power of his tongue, or perhaps of the sartorial talents of Monsieur Cardin, that nobody seemed to recall Isky’s own status as a landlord of a distinctly obese chunk of Sind.”
Bhutto sought to pressure a section of the military high command to dump Ayub and sponsor democratic reforms. He declared that a military coup “will solve no problems unless it comes with the purpose of restoring the people’s rights.” As we will see, it would be precisely on that pretext that Bhutto would support General Yahya Khan’s seizure of power in March 1969.
Opening Battles of 1968-69
Remarkably, given its importance in Pakistan’s history, there appears to be no comprehensive history—certainly not in English—of the upheaval of 1968-69. Tariq Ali dealt at length with the student movement in Pakistan: Military Rule or People’s Power?, while devoting no more than a dozen lines to the explosion of working-class struggle that shook the country in March 1969. Likewise, Lal Khan’s book devotes no more than a couple of pages to that demonstration of proletarian power, and most of that consists of an extended quote from a work by Bhutto’s one-time finance minister!
The upsurge began with anti-government protests by students in West Pakistan in October 1968, largely led by the NSF. On 7 November, students took to the streets in Rawalpindi, the interim capital of the country and site of the army headquarters. In the protests that followed, police shot and killed three people. The Rawalpindi events triggered student demonstrations in Karachi, Lahore, Multan, Quetta and other cities; the government responded by shutting down the campuses. At the time, Bhutto was trying to beef up his credentials as an opponent of the Ayub regime. A speaking tour happened to bring him to Rawalpindi in the wake of the cop killing, and he joined the funeral procession. Several days later, Bhutto was arrested along with other supporters of the PPP and the National Awami Party (NAP), a left-radical grouping. They would spend the next three months in Ayub’s jails.
The student demonstrations were initially limited to university-related issues, centrally the demand that the government withdraw the University Ordinances, which threatened students who engaged in political protests with the confiscation of their degrees. But student agitation took on a more political tone as it merged with the PPP’s campaign against the Ayub regime. By the end of December, student leaders were calling for the resignation of Ayub Khan. They did not say what he should be replaced with. But Bhutto was quite clear: a government that was committed to a directly elected constituent assembly.
Working-class struggle was touched off on 29 November, when a general strike called by student leaders totally shut down Rawalpindi. Students and workers fought police attacks. Throughout the Punjab, demonstrations continued for days as the military watched warily from the barracks. In December, protests spread to East Pakistan, where the Bengali rural masses and the urban proletariat quickly took up demands directed against their national oppression.
The dominant political force in East Pakistan was Mujibur Rahman’s Awami League. Rahman and 34 others had been charged in December 1967-January 1968 in the so-called Agartala Conspiracy case. They had been accused of conspiring with Indian intelligence officials at a meeting in Agartala, India to make East Pakistan an independent state. Rahman’s forthright defence at his trial had made him a hero in East Pakistan. Mass influence was also exercised by peasant leader Maulana Bhashani, who had split from the Awami League over its leadership’s support to the 1956 Anglo-French-Israeli invasion of Nasser’s Egypt. Bhashani joined with nationalists from oppressed nationalities in West Pakistan—Pashtun, Sindhi and Baloch—to form the “anti-imperialist” NAP.
Bhashani called a hartal in Dhaka for 7 December 1968, the day Ayub was scheduled to visit the city. Security forces fired on the strikers, killing two. Bhashani responded by calling a province-wide hartal on 19 December, and the Awami League, supported by Bhashani, called another for 14 December. During a province-wide day of mobilisation on 29 December, police gunned down three peasants. The upsurge was spreading to rural East Pakistan where peasants seized and burnt police stations, expelled rent collectors and, in a number of cases, set up their own local administrations.
The eleven-point programme that came to be associated with the protest movement in East Pakistan was adopted in early January 1969 by a coalition of student groups. It called for autonomy for East Pakistan along the lines of the Awami League’s Six-Point Programme and added other demands, such as nationalisation of banking and large industries, reduction of taxes on peasants and higher wages for workers. It also demanded the withdrawal of Pakistan from the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization and the Central Treaty Organization—U.S.-led military alliances directed against the Soviet Union. The student programme demanded the dropping of charges against all political prisoners, in particular those charged in the Agartala Conspiracy case.
In their respective books on the 1968-69 upheaval, both Lal Khan and Tariq Ali sidestep the fact that the upsurge in East Pakistan was largely directed against the national oppression of the Bengalis. Lal Khan never even mentions the East Pakistani students’ eleven-point programme. In contrast, Tariq Ali acknowledges that in East Pakistan “the students’ eleven-point programme became the programme of the people.” He lists some of its demands, absurdly claiming that they were “anti-capitalist in content.” But he avoids mentioning that the eleven points included the call for extensive autonomy for East Bengal.
In early January 1969, the traditional opposition parties sought to corral the movement onto a parliamentary track. Their chosen vehicle was the Democratic Action Committee (DAC), a coalition of most of the parties which opposed the Ayub regime, from the Awami League to the far-right fundamentalist Jamaat-e-Islami. Bhutto’s PPP and Bhashani’s NAP, wary of being discredited by this noxious lash-up, kept their distance. The DAC quickly adopted a programme that included the main demands raised by protesters and strikers—except for those dealing with oppression of the Bengalis. In a risky gambit, the DAC leaders called a nationwide general strike for 17 January that they hoped would blow off steam, while strengthening their hand in negotiations with the regime. This strike temporarily placed these venal politicians at the head of protests throughout the country.
Police and army violence swelled protests following the one-day strike. On the night of 23 January, 25,000 protesters marched through the streets of Dhaka carrying flaming torches and calling for the complete independence of East Bengal. The next day, 5,000 protesters stormed the seat of the provincial government. Crowds burned down the offices of two pro-government newspapers. By day’s end, half a dozen protesters in Dhaka and other cities in East Pakistan had been gunned down, including a young schoolboy. Cutting across the anti-Bengali racism fostered by the capitalist ruling class, workers and students in West Pakistan joined their counterparts in the East in defying the Ayub regime’s murderous repression. However, while the working class continued to wage isolated strikes, it had not yet demonstrated its social power. In the absence of a proletarian axis, the mass upsurge largely took the form of rioting and street fighting with the police. At this point the struggle could not bring down the Ayub regime, to say nothing of overthrowing the capitalist order.
Workers Take the Stage
In West Pakistan, the social explosion was most intense in four cities: Karachi, Lahore, Peshawar and Gujranwala, an industrial city in northern Punjab. With factory production in Karachi, the country’s industrial centre, down 30 per cent as a result of the upsurge, the regime resorted to a massive show of force. Round-the-clock curfews were imposed and the army took up positions in Dhaka and the cities I just mentioned, threatening to shoot on sight anyone caught defying the curfew. The Pakistan Times (29 January 1969) described Lahore under military occupation:
“The streets were deserted except for officers and men of the Army and the police.... Apart from essential services, life in the city came to a standstill. No shops were opened, no business conducted, no offices operated and no factory emitted smoke.”
Again the Ayub regime tried to bring the upheaval to a close through negotiations with the DAC leaders, and again it was overtaken by the onrush of events. On 14 February, the country was shut down in a hartal called by the DAC leaders, who, as they had the previous month, sought to back up their negotiations with a show of force. As in January, the resulting repression triggered a renewed upsurge. The Pakistan Times decried “the new wave of mob fury that has begun to sweep factories, shops, railway stations...and vital industrial concerns” (16 February 1969).
On 15 February, one of the Bengali soldiers accused in the Agartala Conspiracy case was shot dead in prison. That marked a watershed. The army was called out and police viciously attacked protesters, especially in the industrial areas surrounding Dhaka.
The Students Action Committee called a student strike for 17 February to protest police shootings as the army continued to patrol the streets of Dhaka. An angry crowd set fire to the residence of the judge presiding over the Agartala case. The judge reportedly fled for his life by wrapping his Bengali cook’s lungi (a skirt-like garment) around his waist and passing himself off as a commoner. In Dhaka, a mass procession attacked the houses of a pro-Ayub provincial minister and of the Central Information Minister. The latter had prohibited Pakistan Radio from broadcasting songs by the Bengali poet and Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore. Chittagong, East Pakistan’s main port, was paralysed by a lightning strike of more than 2,000 dockworkers. When word arrived in Dhaka that a professor at Rajshahi University, in East Pakistan’s northwest region, had been killed by soldiers who bayonet-charged students, workers from the industrial zones joined students and the urban poor in defiance of the curfew. The army went on a killing spree, indiscriminately gunning down protesters. The bourgeois press blacked out news of the Dhaka massacre, reporting just half a dozen deaths. Nuran Nabi, who wrote of his participation in the events as an Awami League student activist, considers that the deaths were in the hundreds (Bullets of ’71: A Freedom Fighter’s Story [2010]).
Meanwhile, Ayub was ceding to the demands of the DAC: he lifted the state of emergency in force since the 1965 war, withdrew the Agartala case and released Mujibur Rahman, Bhutto and a number of other political prisoners. Bhutto and Bhashani did not participate in the “negotiations” ploy. Having kept their distance from the DAC since its formation, they had nothing to gain by embracing it now. Yet Lal Khan, intent on “proving” that the PPP responded to mass pressure, manufactures his own alternative reality: “Clearly, the left wing of the Peoples party had been able to convince their party Chairman that the Movement had gone too far and penetrated too deeply to accept any compromise with the regime.” No compromise? In a month, Bhutto would support martial law!
On 21 February, Ayub announced that he would not stand for re-election as president and evoked the prospect of “direct elections on the basis of adult franchise.” But the time for negotiations had long passed. At a meeting of 100,000 people in Dhaka, student leaders issued an ultimatum to Ayub & Co.: resign by 3 March or “face the consequences.” A number of large landowners and local moneylenders had already perished at the hands of peasants and other toilers in rural areas. Ayub’s Basic Democrats—members of local councils who constituted the lowest tier in government—got the message and resigned en masse. The system of local government in East Pakistan began to collapse like a house of cards.
With the peasant uprising spreading in East Pakistan, the working class in both wings of the country launched a strike movement that by late March would virtually shut down the economy. Especially in the East, workers often used—with overwhelming success—the gherao tactic, confining the bosses in their offices until the workers’ demands were met. The vanguard layer of the proletariat was the cotton mill workforce in the industrial areas around Karachi, Lahore and other urban centres. These workers were among the most exploited, working under inhumanly harsh conditions, but at the same time they had the ability to shut down the country’s largest industry.
A feature throughout this period was the formation of “labour fronts,” “action committees” and other organisations to co-ordinate workers’ struggles. Some of these were formed by factory-floor leaders; others resulted from splits within the established trade-union leadership. This pointed the way towards broader organisations of the working class, such as workers defence guards and committees to take charge of distribution of food, that would have the potential to become organs of workers rule, as happened in the lead-up to the October 1917 Russian Revolution.
But to put into practice a programme for working-class power would have required sharp political struggle against the “socialists” who were supporting Bhutto’s PPP. Tariq Ali, for example, called for a coalition of all “left” forces around a four-point programme of basic democratic rights, land to the tiller, opposition to U.S. imperialism and abolition of capitalism. Such a coalition could only have helped the PPP demagogues secure support on a platform of empty promises. Incredibly for a self-proclaimed Marxist, Tariq Ali added grist to the mill of Bhutto’s reactionary crusade on the theme that socialism is compatible with Islam. One of his first public acts during his visit to Pakistan was to offer fatiha (a Koranic prayer). Addressing a mass rally in Rawalpindi, Tariq Ali kissed the Koran and denounced the “lackeys of imperialists” who were “trying to create doubts about my faith” (Pakistan Times, 8 March 1969).
March 1969: Culmination of the Mass Upsurge
In March in West Pakistan, government employees struck in defiance of laws making such action punishable by a year in prison. On 3 March, doctors and other medical personnel struck for four days. Postmen struck on 4 March. Ten days later, the Pakistan Times reported, “the postal strike was causing immense loss to the exporters as the parcels were not being conveyed to their destination and no foreign mail was being delivered, resulting in the cancellation of orders.” On 5 March, 10,000 Karachi port workers brought the country’s main port to a standstill for five days. Telecommunications workers started a cascading series of strikes on 11 March. The regime sent army signal operators to man the telephone exchange in Lahore, but the soldiers couldn’t cope with the volume of calls.
On 6 March, workers closed down the factories and textile mills in the Sindh Industrial Trading Estate in Karachi, the country’s largest industrial zone, for four days. The strike grew explosively when a factory guard shot and killed two workers in a procession of several thousand going from plant to plant bringing workers out on strike. The strike spread to Landhi, the other major industrial area of the city. The deepening sense of solidarity across the workers movement was demonstrated when the college teachers union called for a city-wide strike on 8 March and the city was shut down completely. More than a dozen demonstrations by mill workers and other labourers filled the otherwise empty streets.
With the port of Karachi and the city’s main industrial zone still struck, the Ayub regime prepared for a 10 March Round Table Conference with the opposition parties. Ayub ended up accepting the DAC’s two main demands: direct elections on the basis of adult franchise and a parliamentary form of government. But no promise by Ayub was going to bring the revolt to heel. Bhutto continued to remain outside the negotiations, but he weighed in against the Awami League’s demand for Bengal autonomy. Bhutto declared: “The position of the Central Government under the six-point formula will be that of a widow without a pension” (Pakistan Times, 21 March 1969). The “pension” in question was, of course, the fruit of the central government’s oppression of the Bengalis.
Four days after the “accord” between Ayub and the DAC was announced, on 17 March, a massive hartal by two and a half million workers in West Pakistan, called by the major trade-union leaders, touched off a new wave of strikes. Docks, railways and public transport were paralysed; all factories and most shops and offices were closed. The Karachi port remained shut for three days, and the striking dockworkers only returned to work after they had won all of their wage demands. For two weeks, strikes continued to sweep the industrial zones around Karachi and other cities. Airline workers, electrical grid workers, hospital staff and nurses, postal workers, government office employees, coal miners, teachers, railway workers and other sectors struck. Workers occupied two large flour mills in Karachi and elected committees to run the plants.
On 20 March, the president of the Federation of Pakistan Chambers of Commerce and Industry called on the government to deploy troops to Karachi’s industrial areas. But the military tops made it clear to Ayub Khan that they would only call out the troops if he abandoned the presidency. Instead of launching the repression that the bosses were demanding, the Ayub regime was reduced to calling on all employers to grant a 20 per cent wage increase! Meanwhile, a joint call by dozens of trade-union leaders in Karachi for a stop to gheraos “in the national interest” fell on deaf ears. By 24 March, virtually all the factories of Karachi, comprising some 40 per cent of Pakistan’s industrial capacity, were on strike.
On 25 March, Ayub announced his resignation and handed power to army commander-in-chief Yahya Khan. Declaring that he would “not tolerate disorder,” Yahya Khan imposed martial law and decreed that military tribunals would impose prison sentences of up to ten years for criticising the martial law regime, up to 14 years for going on strike or fostering “dissatisfaction toward the armed forces,” and the death penalty for damaging public property or giving assistance to “rebels or rioters.” At the same time, the new military strongman promised a “smooth transfer of power to the representatives of the people elected freely and impartially on the basis of adult franchise,” who would then “give the country a workable Constitution.”
The mass movement in both East and West Pakistan came to a sudden halt. There were no protest demonstrations anywhere against the take-over. Students returned to their classes. Most of the mills and factories that had been on strike promptly resumed production. In East Pakistan, government offices reopened. At police stations across the country, people lined up to turn in their firearms. It was reported that in Karachi alone, 16,000 rifles, revolvers and shotguns were surrendered.
Even the bourgeoisie was taken aback that a mass revolt, which had defied repression, should halt so suddenly. The London Sunday Times (30 March 1969) observed: “The revolution seemed to be only hours away.... The mere words ‘martial law’ have magically restored the situation without a shot being fired.” The explanation for the sudden turnaround was not magic but politics. From the beginning, the movement’s principal leaders, especially Bhutto and his leftist supporters, had hammered the point that the main aim was elections to a constituent assembly. Now that a wing of the military high command had pushed aside Ayub and was promising to grant that demand, it was broadly felt that the movement had achieved its purpose. Referring to Yahya’s takeover, Bhutto declared that “on the whole it’s a good thing” because “the prospects for a return to democracy seem good” (Sunday Times, 30 March 1969). In a 26 June speech, he declared: “This Martial Law repeatedly gives assurances for elections.” He further asserted that when the movement against Ayub Khan started, “I had said there must be a new Constituent Assembly, that only a Constituent Assembly could frame a Constitution for Pakistan” (Z.A. Bhutto, Awakening the People, Volume II [1969]).
Lal Khan and Tariq Ali, having written out of their histories Bhutto’s campaign for a constituent assembly, have no explanation for the sudden halt of the mass movement—nor can they come up with any criticism of Bhutto’s arguments in support of martial law. Lal Khan blames the “left leadership” for the fact that “there was no protest at all, as though the sole objective was to get rid of Ayub Khan!” But he cannot explain why Yahya Khan was seen as an improvement over Ayub. Tariq Ali says the masses “lacked an organization, and this made the army take-over on March 26, 1969, a comparatively easy affair.” Yet when recounting the 18 February massacre of protesters in Dhaka, Tariq Ali insisted: “Once again the workers and the city poor, without any leadership whatsoever, had defied the ruling class and faced the bullets of the bourgeoisie.”
The masses had not lost the extraordinary courage that, even bereft of leadership, they had repeatedly displayed. Rather, the military and the leaders of the opposition parties—especially the PPP, the NAP and their leftist supporters—had succeeded in channelling the mass struggle onto the path of the constituent assembly. As we wrote in Spartacist ([English edition] No. 63, Winter 2012-2013), “Fighting for a bourgeois-parliamentary ‘democratic government’ is a trap for the proletariat.” The article explains: “Unlike such demands as national self-determination, women’s equality, land to the tiller, universal suffrage or opposition to the monarchy—any or all of which can be crucial in rallying the masses behind the struggles of the proletariat—the constituent assembly is not a democratic demand but a call for a new capitalist government.”
The article also points out: “Given the reactionary character of the bourgeoisie, in the semicolonial world as well as the advanced capitalist states, there can be no revolutionary bourgeois parliament. Thus the call for a constituent assembly runs counter to the perspective of permanent revolution.” As they were being forced out of India by a mass upsurge against colonial rule, the British used the constituent assembly to give “democratic” legitimacy to the bloody partition of the subcontinent, resulting in the first parliaments of independent capitalist India and Pakistan. Likewise, the military regime in Pakistan used the call for a constituent assembly to derail the upsurge of 1968-69.
[TO BE CONTINUED]

Workers Vanguard No. 1058
12 December 2014
 
Pakistan: Bloody Origins of the Z.A. Bhutto Regime
Part Two: The Bangladesh War
 
We reprint below the second part of an article based on a presentation by Workers Vanguard Editorial Board member Bruce André to a July 2013 meeting in London held by the Spartacist League/Britain, which published the article in Workers Hammer Nos. 227 and 228 (Summer and Autumn 2014). A minor correction has been incorporated accounting for the fact that Arbab Sikander Khan Khalil held the office of governor of North-West Frontier Province. Part One appeared in WV No. 1057 (28 November).
 
The working-class upsurge of 1968-69 in Pakistan was derailed due to the absence of a leadership of the working class that was independent of the capitalist ruling class. An important political influence in the working class at that time was Stalinism, which is based on the programme of two-stage revolution and “peaceful co-existence” with imperialism. In defence of imperialist “democracy,” the Communist Party of India (CPI) supported British imperialism from 1941 onwards in World War II. During this time the CPI also made overtures to the reactionary, British-backed Muslim League. When the CPI subsequently decided to support the national independence struggle, it did so by subordinating the interests of the proletariat to the bourgeois-nationalist, Hindu-chauvinist Congress party.
The 1947 Partition of the subcontinent and the explosion of communal violence that accompanied it had a devastating effect on the Communist movement in what became Pakistan. In the Punjab, what weak base the CPI had was overwhelmingly among Sikh small landowners in the East, which became part of India. In Bengal, the CPI had one of its stronger bases, but it was mainly Hindu and less than 5 per cent Muslim. With the population transfers caused by the communal massacres of 1947 (and others in 1951 in East and West Bengal) as many as 90 per cent of the Communists left for India. Those who remained in Pakistan formed the Communist Party of Pakistan (CPP), which was largely driven underground by state repression.
In East Pakistan, where the CPP was strongest, the party adopted a policy of working through the nationalist Awami League. In the 1954 provincial elections in East Pakistan, CPP members won 22 seats in the assembly, all but four of them as Awami League members. When Bengali peasant leader Maulana Bhashani split from the Awami League to form the National Awami Party (NAP), most of the CPP members went with him.
The Pakistani left in the 1960s was profoundly shaped by the split between the Stalinist bureaucracies ruling the Soviet Union and the People’s Republic of China. Pursuing the Stalinist dogma of “socialism in one country”—a rejection of proletarian internationalism—the ruling castes of both workers states sought détente with U.S. imperialism, even if that accord came at the expense of the other. Betraying the internationalist interests of both the Soviet and the Chinese workers states as well as the interests of the working masses of South Asia, the Soviet bureaucracy backed Indira Gandhi’s brutally repressive capitalist regime in India, while the Beijing regime under Mao Zedong backed Pakistan. Moscow refused to support China in its 1962 border conflict with India, and in fact helped arm India.
In Pakistan, the Sino-Soviet dispute caused a split not only among the Stalinists but within the NAP as well. During the 1965 war with India, both Bhashani’s NAP and the Pakistani Maoists sided with Pakistan. For Pakistani youth radicalised in the 1960s, the Maoists’ “anti-imperialism” translated into support to the chauvinist hysteria directed by the ruling class against India. Such vile Pakistani nationalism would represent a common bond between leftists and the ultra-chauvinist Z.A. Bhutto. Thus, the pro-Beijing Stalinists in Pakistan achieved a degree of influence that belied their limited numbers. In East Pakistan, they did so by hitching their wagon to the petty-bourgeois nationalist Bhashani; in the West, they rallied around the bourgeois politician Bhutto, providing the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) with much of its initial base of support.
The support for Bhutto by a number of trade-union leaders was a key means by which the combative Pakistani proletariat was chained politically to its capitalist class enemy. As a result, the mass upsurge was diverted onto the parliamentary plane, sidetracked by the promise of elections to a constituent assembly that would draw up a new constitution.
That promise was made by army commander-in-chief General Agha Mohammed Yahya Khan, who took power in a military coup in March 1969 when the ruling strongman Ayub Khan proved unable to crush the popular upsurge. Bhutto supported General Yahya Khan’s imposition of martial law, calling it a step towards elections to a constituent assembly.
As we’ll see, the promise of a bourgeois parliament successfully derailed the workers upsurge, with devastating consequences for the proletariat and for all the oppressed. In the years following the class struggles of 1969, the Pakistani ruling class broke the back of the workers revolt. It was also during this period that the broad contours of the modern Pakistani police state were established: a fragile veneer of parliamentary democracy, mass-based electoral parties closely linked to the security services and a legal framework heavily integrating the trade unions into the state.
Constituent Assembly Elections
The first priority of Yahya Khan’s martial law regime was to ensure that the proletarian-centred upsurge of the preceding months was not rekindled. The bosses started large-scale firings, including of many factory-floor leaders. In Karachi alone, 45,000 workers lost their jobs between 1969 and 1971. The military regime decreed an Industrial Relations Ordinance (IRO), aimed at integrating the unions into the capitalist state, setting up a system of government arbitrators and labour courts. It also granted collective bargaining authority solely to local unions as a way of discouraging industry-wide or nationwide unions and strikes. To this day, the IRO is key to defining the structure of the Pakistani trade-union movement.
Bhutto continued his demagogic posturing as a friend of the working man. On May Day 1969, he led workers in Lahore on the largest demonstration that the city had ever seen. When union activists at Packages Industries in Lahore were arrested and one was sentenced by a military court to be lashed, Bhutto promised the workers that when the PPP came to power it would have the bosses of Packages Industries whipped. However, in late 1969, when a strike by 65,000 cotton textile workers in East Pakistan spread to industrial areas of West Pakistan, Bhutto denounced the occupation of a textile factory in Multan as “left-adventurism.”
The events leading to the secession of East Pakistan are dealt with in Tariq Ali’s book, Can Pakistan Survive? The Death of a State. This book was published in 1983 after Bhutto had come to power, ruled the country for almost six years and been overthrown in 1977 by General Mohammad Zia ul-Haq. Gone were the pro-Bhutto declamations in his previous book, Pakistan: Military Rule or People’s Power? Tariq Ali now informed his readers that the PPP in 1970 had “enormous possibilities, which were squandered” but adds that if anyone is to blame, “it is the historical process.” This absolves the Pakistani leftists, including himself, who had helped put Bhutto in office. Nevertheless Tariq Ali highlighted Bhutto’s close ties to the military. This is in contrast to Lal Khan, leader of the Struggle group in Pakistan, who in his 2008 book, Pakistan’s Other Story: The Revolution of 1968-69, systematically masks Bhutto’s alliance with hardline generals.
In 1970, General Yahya Khan announced that Pakistan’s first countrywide election would be held. In a gesture to appease the East Bengalis, he declared that East Pakistan would be represented in the constituent assembly proportionate to its population (which, according to the 1961 census, meant 54 per cent). Starting in January, when the Yahya Khan regime eased restrictions on political activity, left-wing labour leaders threw themselves into rounding up votes for the PPP. Meanwhile, in rural Sindh and adjoining parts of the Punjab, Bhutto drew in some of the most reactionary forces in the country: landed aristocrats, clan and religious leaders with a following among the peasants. Bhutto hit the campaign trail wearing a green jacket and a Mao cap and calling for “Islamic socialism.” In raising that slogan, Bhutto reassured his audiences, he was “merely following the doctrines of the Quaid-e-Azam” [the “Great Leader,” Mohammad Ali Jinnah] (quoted in Lawrence Ziring et al., Pakistan: The Long View [1977]).
In East Pakistan, the December 1970 elections basically became a referendum on autonomy for East Bengal. Given his history of vicious opposition to the Awami League’s Six Point programme, Bhutto couldn’t have been elected dogcatcher there. So the PPP didn’t even bother to field candidates in East Pakistan. The PPP’s electoral platform promised extensive nationalisations and an “independent” foreign policy, and the PPP also began calling for land reform. As always, the PPP was distinguished by virulent anti-India chauvinism. Its electoral platform promised “a policy of confrontation” towards India. Bhutto proudly admitted to the accusation that he had “engineered” the 1965 war with India.
The generals expected the Awami League to win a bare majority in East Pakistan, at best. But the Bengali nationalists won a landslide victory, taking 160 of 162 constituent assembly seats in the East, securing an absolute majority of the 300 total seats nationally. The PPP became the second largest party, with 81 seats. The Awami League was now in a position to write the country’s constitution, and to include in it autonomy for East Bengal—if the constituent assembly were allowed to meet. The stage was set for the brutal war that was launched by the Pakistani military against the Bengalis.
Bhutto promptly declared that “majority alone does not count in national politics” because the Punjab and Sindh, where the PPP had its main support, were “the bastions of power in Pakistan.” As Tariq Ali recounted:
“Bhutto soon emerged as the most vociferous defender of the traditional hegemony of West Pakistan, and embarked on a hysterical campaign of denouncing the Six Points. After consulting senior military officers, he whipped up an atmosphere of frenzied chauvinism in the Punjab.... The fact that Bhutto was colluding with the generals was clear to everyone.”
But not to Lal Khan, who wrote out of history Bhutto’s key role in the steps leading to war with East Bengal.
Since Yahya Khan’s seizure of power, Bhutto had maintained close relations with the new strongman and cultivated links with General Pirzada, Yahya Khan’s military secretary. In mid-January 1971, according to former Air Marshal Asghar Khan, in discussions between Bhutto, Yahya Khan and Pirzada, “it was agreed in principle that force would be used in East Pakistan, if Mujib-ur-Rehman did not change his attitude. These decisions were ratified in a more representative meeting of the Junta in Rawalpindi in mid February” (Mohammed Asghar Khan, Generals in Politics: Pakistan 1958-1982 [1983]).
Yahya Khan initially promised that the constituent assembly would be convened on 3 March. But Bhutto refused to attend unless Awami League leader Mujibur Rahman agreed to compromise on the Six Points. Bhutto famously threatened to “break the legs” of any PPP member who attended the session. When Yahya Khan announced that, because of Bhutto’s boycott threat, he was postponing the opening of the constituent assembly, Mujibur Rahman launched a “non-violent non-cooperation movement” which shut down East Pakistan—even the judges of the High Court stopped work. Committees organised by the Awami League took over the administration of key areas in the cities and the countryside.
Yahya Khan flew to Dhaka on 15 March to negotiate with Mujibur Rahman. Yahya Khan, who was later joined by Bhutto, was buying time as the military built up its elite forces in East Pakistan. When six shiploads of troops arrived on 25 March, thousands of people rushed to prevent the landings; 20 of them were shot and killed. Tariq Ali wrote:
“The Awami League leaders were lulled into believing that a deal was now certain. Yahya dragged out the negotiations for ten whole days, until the requisite number of troops had arrived in the Bengali capital. On 25 March, the Awami League leaders were awaiting the announcement of a settlement. Yahya and other West Pakistani leaders left in the morning. That night the army struck.”
The 1971 War of Bangladesh Independence
The Pakistani military expected to put a quick end to the nationalist aspirations of the Bengalis. Just before midnight on 25 March 1971, Pakistani troops led by General Tikka Khan launched “Operation Searchlight,” an orgy of killing directed against the civilian population of Dhaka and other cities and towns. Working-class and Hindu neighbourhoods in Dhaka were attacked with tanks, mortars and machine guns. Using prepared lists, soldiers went door-to-door gunning down Awami League activists. U.S.-supplied tanks led a military assault on student residences at the University of Dhaka. The students and teachers who were killed were dumped into a mass grave in the football ground. When informed of the butchery that had been unleashed in East Bengal, Bhutto exclaimed: “By the Grace of God Pakistan has at last been saved” (Z.A. Bhutto, The Great Tragedy [1971]).
Contrary to the generals’ expectations, “Operation Searchlight” triggered a split in the security forces along national lines. Attempts to disarm Bengali police officers, soldiers of the Bengal Regiment and members of the paramilitary East Pakistan Rifles (EPR) sparked fierce resistance in a number of cantonments. Most Bengali cops and soldiers who survived those initial clashes went into armed opposition.
Two years earlier, the police and EPR forces had gunned down untold numbers of striking workers and student protesters during the upsurge of January-March 1969. The Bengali component of those security forces, under the leadership of the Awami League, became the core of the Mukti Bahini, the Bangladesh liberation army. Profiting from support by India in the form of arms, military training, funding and border sanctuaries, the Mukti Bahini was able to mount an effective guerrilla war in East Bengal.
According to estimates by the Bangladeshi nationalists, Pakistani forces slaughtered some three million Bengali civilians, drove about 10 million refugees into India and raped approximately 200,000 women. West Pakistani troops were incited to view those they were butchering as subhuman; the Bengalis were commonly compared to monkeys and chickens. Hindus in East Bengal were viewed as vermin to be exterminated. The Yahya Khan regime augmented the barbarity of its military forces by arming death squads organised by Jamaat-e-Islami.
In a stark refutation of the myth that the nationalism of the oppressed is inherently progressive, thousands of Urdu-speaking Pakistanis originating from Bihar were brutally slaughtered by Bengalis, often led by the Awami League forces. They cited as a pretext the fact that a number of Biharis fought on the side of government forces. By the end of the independence war, almost all of the Bihari population that had not fled had been coerced into refugee camps. Despite the pledge by Awami League leader Mujibur Rahman to guarantee their security, their property was seized. Today, the Biharis in Bangladesh—many of them stateless—continue to suffer severe discrimination in employment and access to education.
Throughout the savagery in East Bengal, U.S. imperialism and China continued to provide military aid to Pakistan. Bhutto declared that Yahya Khan’s actions “were in the best interests of the country” (quoted in Dilip Mukerjee, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto: Quest for Power [1972]). In late 1971, Bhutto headed a delegation to Beijing as Yahya Khan’s special envoy to request Chinese military support if India invaded the East.
The Pakistani regime hammered on the notion that this prison house of peoples embodied “unity” based on Islam and that secession of East Bengal would lead to West Pakistan breaking up and being swallowed by Hindu India. However, after months of state repression against strikes and mass protests, the military was in no position to whip up the kind of national unity in West Pakistan that the ruling class had achieved during the 1965 war with India. As the military launched its bloodbath in the East, workers clashed with the military in the West, including in Karachi, Lahore and Lyallpur (Faisalabad). In the North-West Frontier Province (NWFP, today Khyber Pakthunkwa) tenant farmers clashed with landlords and police.
On 3 December 1971, India intervened and its army drove towards Dhaka. The Indian armed forces bore the brunt of the fighting while the Mukti Bahini played a support role. The just struggle of the Bengalis for national independence had now been subordinated to the class interests of the Indian bourgeoisie. In such a situation, Leninists call for revolutionary defeatism on both sides, that is, for the toiling masses in India and Pakistan to turn their guns against their own rulers. We wrote at the time:
“The Awami League, however, crossed over the line when it handed full military control over to the Indians and became a mere pawn in the chauvinist appetites of the Indian bourgeoisie.”
— “Turn the Guns the Other Way! New Masters for Bangla Desh,” WV No. 4, January 1972
At the same time, we pointed out that the real centre of Bengali class struggle was not Dhaka but Calcutta (Kolkata), where the workers movement was larger and more class-conscious. As we wrote in the above article: “The Indian central government oppresses the West Bengalis as thoroughly as Pakistan oppressed the East Bengalis. Serious support for self-determination in Bengal includes the right of reunification of all Bengal.”
As defeat loomed in East Pakistan, Bhutto joined the military government. He then led a Pakistani delegation to the United Nations to plead for a ceasefire. After the Soviet Union vetoed a Security Council resolution calling for a ceasefire and for troop withdrawals from East Bengal, Bhutto walked out of the UN session, his face streaked with tears, challenging the UN delegates: “Legalize aggression…legalize occupation—I will not be a party to it. We will fight” (New York Times, 16 December 1971).
After a two-week war, Pakistan’s Eastern Command surrendered on 16 December 1971. India had affirmed its dominance on the subcontinent. Riding the crest of its victory over Pakistan, the Congress party under Indira Gandhi moved to smash all left-wing opposition to its hegemony in India. For its part, Pakistan had retained its western territory. Thus it would continue to provide a strategic base for U.S. imperialism’s military operations directed against the Soviet Union, a role that Pakistan played from shortly after Partition until the end of the USSR in 1991-92.
Following the Indian army’s victory over Pakistan, the Awami League’s provisional government returned to Bangladesh from Calcutta. Mujibur Rahman established the first of a succession of corrupt and repressive regimes that to this day enforce the grinding exploitation of the Bengali working class. The real losers were the proletariat and impoverished peasants of the entire subcontinent, condemned to continued slavery in the interests of the venal capitalists who oppress and divide them.
Following the defeat in Bangladesh, General Yahya Khan could no longer rule Pakistan with any hope of a stable regime. Some 90,000 troops and collaborators were in Indian POW camps and the Indian army remained entrenched in Kashmir. Universally condemned for its butchery in East Bengal, the Pakistani army needed a more popular instrument. Bhutto’s moment had arrived. As Tariq Ali described the events:
“Within the army itself, there was a strong mood of revolt against the high command. A crack armoured division was on the verge of open mutiny after the war.... At a stormy meeting of senior officers, General Hamid was abused and almost physically assaulted. A new military leader was considered inappropriate. The dissident officers decided to send for Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto....
“Bhutto’s take-over was thus arranged by the Army.”
The night of his return to Pakistan on 20 December 1971, Bhutto delivered a speech that was broadcast to the country. He promised the soldiers that “we will take revenge” and “we shall wipe out the stigma even if it has to be done by our grandchildren.” The London Financial Times (21 December 1971) observed that Bhutto “had the most consistent and emphatic record of hostility towards India of any leader who has achieved prominence in Pakistan.”
Bhutto in Power
Bhutto came to power as the country’s economy was reeling from the effects of the war. With the secession of Bangladesh, Pakistan lost its main source of foreign exchange, exports of jute and tea, as well as a captive market for its manufactured goods. In a further blow, independent Bangladesh wasted no time nationalising the considerable assets held in the country by Pakistani conglomerates such as Dawood and Adamjee. With Pakistan already crushed under a burden of debt, the Bhutto regime desperately needed further loans from international financiers.
In the first two years of Bhutto’s reign, the amount by which Pakistan’s imports exceeded its exports increased almost tenfold. Bhutto doubled the country’s astronomical military budget in order to reconstitute the shattered armed forces. To make up for the loss of export earnings, Bhutto signed agreements with Saudi Arabia, Iran and the Gulf states to allow large-scale migration to those countries by Pakistani workers and peasants. The labour power of Pakistani workers quickly became Pakistan’s main export. That continues to be the case today, as remittances by workers abroad dwarf the earnings from the country’s other main export items, cotton goods and knitwear.
Bhutto railed against blood-sucking bosses and paraded some capitalists in handcuffs before the TV cameras, while behind the scenes he negotiated an IMF loan package, pledging to impose draconian austerity measures. The IMF imposed a currency devaluation that triggered rampant inflation. By the mid 1970s, annual inflation reached a staggering 46 per cent, wiping away most wage gains. For the vast majority of the toiling population, the Bhutto years were a period of declining living standards and heightened insecurity.
The Bhutto government launched a number of social programmes, notably in education and health care, but the World Bank categorically refused to fund programmes that focused on benefiting the common people. Bhutto’s promised land reform was so shot through with loopholes that it had essentially no practical effect. His “new” labour policy consisted of some modifications to General Yahya Khan’s IRO which, as historian Zafar Shaheed explained, “further tightened government controls over industrial relations.”
The workers and peasants who had been taken in by the PPP’s cynical promises believed that they now had an ally in the Presidential Palace and they launched a new round of class struggle. Tenant farmers carried out land occupations and fought pitched battles with the landlords’ goons in many parts of Sindh, the Punjab and NWFP. In Karachi on 28 March 1972, 200,000 workers walked off the job, bringing the entire Sindh Industrial Trading Estate to a standstill. Bhutto warned the workers that, if they continued their struggles, “the strength of the street will be met by the strength of the state.” Soon he was using the police and army to break strikes. Bhutto’s ministers asked factory owners to provide lists of “undesirable” workers, who could then be dealt with by state authorities.
The workers’ leaders who had joined the PPP now began to feel the force of state repression brought down upon them by the party that they had helped bring to power. Mukhtar Rana, a trade union leader whose group led a number of unions in Lyallpur had been an early PPP supporter. Now Rana called for a “people’s court” to pass judgment on Bhutto. Rana was arrested in March 1972 under Martial Law regulations and was sentenced to five years’ imprisonment for inciting violence; after his release, he was forced into exile. Rana was among the first of a large number of worker militants who would be imprisoned, brutalised or killed by the Bhutto regime.
A confrontation between the Bhutto regime and the workers ensued when the World Bank decreed that financial aid would depend on the government’s ability to control labour unrest. On 7 June, at the Sindh industrial estate in Karachi, workers at the Feroz Sultan textile mill gheraoed (locked up) the management. Police fired on workers, who responded by shutting down both the Sindh and Landhi industrial areas of Karachi for 12 days.
The Bhutto regime’s decisive battle against the militant workers movement came in October 1972 at Karachi’s Landhi industrial area, when workers occupied two mills, Gul Ahmed Textiles and Dawood Cotton. The plant occupations were led by Bhutto’s Maoist supporters. Tufail Abbas’ organisation was in the leadership of the Labour Organising Committee (LOC). One member of the LOC was Rashid Hasan Khan. He had been one of the Maoist student leaders who accompanied Bhutto on his early speaking tours. Meanwhile, Mairaj Mohammad Khan, the other former National Student Federation leader who had joined Bhutto on those early platforms, was now Bhutto’s minister of state for public affairs.
This was the kind of situation that Bhutto’s leftist supporters had been preparing for: they were in the leadership of a nationally important strike, and they were well represented in the PPP government. They were now perfectly positioned, so they thought, to pressure the government into defending the workers’ interests. Needless to say, it didn’t work out that way. In fact Minister Mairaj Mohammad Khan was an executive officer of the capitalist state. And as Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels taught, the capitalist government is the executive committee that manages the affairs of the capitalist class. The role expected by the bourgeoisie of these labour fakers was to cajole the workers into submission. Mairaj Mohammad Khan argued with the strikers that their action was weakening the government. When they refused to return to work, on 18 October the police and the military attacked the occupied mills, using bulldozers to break down the factory walls and opening fire on workers. After holding out for about a month, the workers were forced back to work under army supervision. According to trade-union leaders more than 100 workers had lost their lives.
With the massacre of the Landhi strikers, the treachery of the reformists in leading the workers into support for Bhutto’s PPP in 1968-69 was apparent. The pseudo-left betrayers had politically disarmed the workers and helped set them up for bloody defeat by counselling them to view the PPP regime as a vehicle for furthering their interests.
The Bhutto regime came down hard on the leaders of the strikes. Shortly after the strike at the Sindh industrial estate ended, shopfloor leader Bawar Khan was arrested and tortured. Tufail Abbas was imprisoned by the Bhutto regime. Mairaj Mohammad Khan, who resigned from the government following the massacre of workers at Landhi, spent nearly four years in Bhutto’s dungeons, where he was tortured and lost much of his eyesight.
Citing the need for a “people’s army,” Bhutto set up a 15,000-man paramilitary Federal Security Force, which sowed terror among leftists and other opposition forces. As Tariq Ali noted, this force “was headed by veteran policemen notorious for their corruption and sadism; the foot-soldiers were recruited from lumpen layers in the cities, armed with repressive powers and weapons” (Can Pakistan Survive?). The Federal Security Force was trained in counterinsurgency techniques by the Savak, the Shah of Iran’s dreaded secret police. Trade unionists, peasant organisers and opposition politicians were abducted, imprisoned and often simply disappeared.
Soon Bhutto’s jails were filled with political prisoners. According to a “White Paper” prepared by the Pakistani authorities after Bhutto was ejected from office by the military, Bhutto set up a secret prison in the portion of Kashmir occupied by Pakistan, outside the purview of the courts, where political opponents were detained indefinitely. Bhutto refused to let more than one in three Biharis who requested “repatriation” set foot in Pakistan, supposedly their homeland. More than two decades later, there were still a quarter of a million stateless Biharis surviving in miserable conditions in Bangladeshi refugee camps.
Bhutto’s Brutal Repression in Balochistan
The PPP government in Sindh declared Sindhi the sole official language for provincial affairs, in a blatant attack on the industrial working class, which was at that time mainly Urdu-speaking. When the mohajirs (migrants from India at the time of Partition, who spoke Urdu) launched a protest movement in July 1972, police shot and killed almost two dozen protesters.
Bhutto also moved to smash local nationalist forces in Balochistan and in the largely Pashtun NWFP, where the PPP had little support. In both of those provinces the pro-Moscow faction of the National Awami Party had formed coalition governments. Bhutto summarily dismissed governors Bizenjo of Balochistan and Arbab Sikander Khan Khalil of the NWFP, both of whom were popular NAP leaders. The NAP was banned and its leaders imprisoned. The Bhutto regime unleashed a more intense version of the scorched earth tactics that had been used against the Baloch people in the 1960s. Bhutto turned to General Tikka Khan, who had carried out that earlier slaughter of the Baloch people and who was known as the “butcher of Bangladesh.” Cobra helicopter gunships provided by the Shah of Iran and flown by Iranian pilots unleashed massive firepower on the defenceless population of Balochistan. Meanwhile, Mao’s China showered the Bhutto regime with modern tanks and MIG fighter jets, while Washington supplied “economic” aid, much of which was spent on military supplies. Masses of Baloch civilians were driven from their homes as warplanes indiscriminately bombed free-fire zones, strafed encampments of nomads and dropped napalm on rural villages.
Lal Khan whitewashes Bhutto’s role in launching the massacre in Balochistan, presenting him as powerless in the face of the generals:
“Bhutto began to feel that the establishment had its own agenda, compulsions and priorities. He could not do much about it. Now the army was going to reassert itself by military action.”
That’s certainly not how Bhutto himself saw it. As he prepared to send the army into Balochistan, Bhutto declared in a 22 February 1973 address to the National Assembly that “if you think that the story of East Pakistan will be allowed to be repeated here then you are sadly mistaken” (Zulfikar Ali Bhutto: Speeches and Statements [1973]).
Bhutto’s 1973 Constitution, which (heavily amended) continues in force today, imposes Islam as the state religion and requires the head of state to be a Muslim. In 1974, ceding to the Islamic fundamentalists, the Bhutto regime declared the Ahmadiya branch of Islam to be non-Muslim. Such discrimination against the Ahmadiyas has steadily intensified over the years. Today, Ahmadiyas suffer discrimination in employment and education, are barred in practice from voting, and are permanently threatened with prosecution—and murderous mob violence—for infringing Pakistan’s anti-blasphemy laws. Bhutto founded a number of official organisations to propagate Islamic theology and introduced the study of the Koran into school curricula. In 1976, Bhutto appointed General Zia ul-Haq, who had links to Jamaat-e-Islami, as Army Chief of Staff.
The efforts by Bhutto to reinforce the Islamists set the stage for the intense campaign undertaken by General Zia, after he overthrew the Bhutto regime in a July 1977 coup, to further strengthen the Islamists. Pakistan became a bastion of Islamic fundamentalism starting in the 1970s as the CIA, working with the Pakistani, Saudi and other intelligence services, funnelled billions of dollars to train and arm a network of Islamist groups based in Peshawar, which became the spearhead in the reactionary jihad against the Soviet Red Army in Afghanistan.
The bitter experience of the PPP in power demoralised the 1968-69 generation of militant workers. By the final year of PPP rule, after more than six years of brutal state repression, strike activity was one quarter of what it had been when Bhutto took office. Bhutto was thrown out of office by the military and accused of ordering the murder of a political opponent. The star witness at the murder trial was Masood Mahmood, who had been selected by Bhutto as head of the paramilitary Federal Security Force because of his proven depravity and unscrupulousness. Mahmood sent his former boss to the gallows.
A major portion of the responsibility for the failure of the proletarian upsurge of 1969 and the subsequent demise of the militant workers movement falls on the leftists at the time who lined up behind Bhutto’s power bid. By counselling support to the bourgeois PPP they, like Lal Khan’s Struggle group today, helped tie the workers politically to their capitalist class enemy and reinforced suicidal illusions in a supposedly “democratic” wing of the military. For his part, Lal Khan draws the following lesson from the experience of Bhutto in power: “It was the preservation of the structures of the bourgeois state that ultimately led to his own demise.” Lal Khan goes so far as to criticise Bhutto for not “dissolving the standing army and building a ‘people’s militia’.”
The idea that the working class can sweep away the bourgeois state through parliamentary means—by pressuring the bourgeois politician Z.A. Bhutto, no less—is reformist nonsense. A core understanding of Marxism since the experience of the 1871 Paris Commune is that the proletariat cannot simply lay hold of the existing bourgeois state apparatus. It must smash the capitalist state—which at its core consists of the army, the police and other forces of bourgeois repression—and replace it with the dictatorship of the proletariat. On an international scale, this would lay the basis for the withering away of the state and the creation of a classless communist society.
For a Socialist Federation of South Asia
Our fundamental programmatic reference on the national question is Lenin’s Bolshevik Party, which was able to cut across national divisions by offering full democratic rights to all nationalities. The Leninist programme is trampled underfoot by Lal Khan. In his book, Kashmir’s Ordeal—A Revolutionary Way Out (2005), he does not raise the call for the withdrawal of Pakistani troops from Pakistan-occupied Kashmir. The same grovelling before the Pakistani bourgeoisie is characteristic of the Socialist Movement Pakistan, section of the Committee for a Workers’ International. When the regime launched a military offensive in Balochistan in 2006, wiping out much of the leadership of the nationalist forces as well as many civilians, they headlined with studied neutrality: “Violence Erupts in Baluchistan Province After Killing of Nationalist Leader.” The article failed to take a side with the nationalist forces against the Pakistani army, and called the killing of nationalist leader Akbar Bugti “a political blunder” which “will give rise to the nationalism, not only in Baluchistan, but also in Sindh and NWFP provinces” (socialistworld.net, 4 September 2006).
Marxists understand that it is a reactionary utopia to imagine that even such basic bourgeois-democratic gains as stable parliamentary democracy, an end to national oppression and formal equality for all could be achieved while Pakistan remains crushed by imperialist exploitation and plagued by poverty, national antagonisms and medieval sexual oppression. The stance taken by reformists of neutrality in the face of depredations carried out by the Pakistani police state against oppressed nationalities is a craven capitulation before the capitalist ruling class.
As in all neocolonial countries, imperialism introduced into the Indian subcontinent a degree of modern capitalist technique while bolstering the most reactionary and repressive aspects of semi-feudal society. Child labour is common, often in dangerous agricultural or industrial environments. Though bonded labour is formally illegal, there are, according to a 2006 estimate by the International Labour Organization, 1.7 million bonded labourers in Pakistan, children and adults, working in brick kilns, the carpet industry and, especially, on the large agricultural estates in Sindh. Enslaved to pay off never-ending debt that often runs from one generation to the next, hunted down by the landlord’s goons if they try to escape their infernal condition, bonded labourers have virtually no recourse in a system dominated by the large landowners. These modern slaves are often lower caste Muslims or members of religious minorities—such as Hindus and Christians—or of indigenous and other minority ethnic groups.
Oppression is pervasive throughout all aspects of social life. Homosexuals in Pakistan are considered criminals under both sharia law and the penal code inherited from British colonialism. Homosexual oppression is linked to the special oppression of women in class society, in which the family, as well as organised religion, enforces the sexual division of labour based on child-rearing. It is in the oppression of women, the slaves of slaves, that all of the medieval backwardness, the class and caste divisions and the weight of religious reaction are concentrated. Pakistani women are subjected to purdah [seclusion] and jailed or stoned to death for adultery and similar “crimes” under Islamic law or murdered in “honour killings” by their own families. Rape is perpetrated on a massive scale. The fight for the most basic needs of women—for literacy, education, access to contraception and abortion, an end to forced marriage and a way out of grinding poverty and oppression—requires a struggle to root out the very foundations of capitalist society.
In the imperialist epoch, the semicolonial bourgeoisies, despite formal independence, remain dependent on the imperialists and fearful of any challenge to their class rule by the proletariat standing at the head of the poor peasantry and all the oppressed. The task of liberating all the exploited and oppressed of the Indian subcontinent, with its seemingly intractable national and communal conflicts, demands the forging of Leninist-Trotskyist vanguard parties dedicated to the revolutionary overthrow of the bourgeoisies in India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh and the establishment of a Socialist Federation of South Asia. Only an internationalist perspective, uniting class and other social struggles on the subcontinent with the fight for workers revolution in the U.S., Britain and other advanced capitalist countries, can open the door to liberation for the impoverished masses worldwide, which will be achieved through the building of a socialist world order.

As The 100th Anniversary Of The First Year Of World War I (Remember The War To End All Wars) Continues ... Some Remembrances-Writers’ Corner  

In say 1912, 1913, hell, even the beginning of 1914, the first few months anyway, before the war clouds got a full head of steam in the summer they all profusely professed their unmitigated horror at the thought of war, thought of the old way of doing business in the world. Yes the artists of every school but the Cubist/Fauvists/Futurists and  Surrealists or those who would come to speak for those movements, those who saw the disjointedness of modern industrial society and put the pieces to paint, sculptors who put twisted pieces of metal juxtaposed to each other saw that building a mighty machine from which you had to run created many problems; writers of serious history books proving that, according to their Whiggish theory of progress,  humankind had moved beyond war as an instrument of policy and the diplomats and high and mighty would put the brakes on in time, not realizing that they were all squabbling cousins; writers of serious and not so serious novels drenched in platitudes and hidden gabezo love affairs put paid to that notion in their sweet nothing words that man and woman had too much to do, too much sex to harness to denigrate themselves by crying the warrior’s cry and by having half-virgin, neat trick, maidens strewing flowers on the bloodlust streets; musicians whose muse spoke of delicate tempos and sweet muted violin concertos, not the stress and strife of the tattoos of war marches with their tinny conceits; and poets, ah, those constricted poets who bleed the moon of its amber swearing, swearing on a stack of seven sealed bibles, that they would go to the hells before touching the hair of another man. They all professed loudly (and those few who did not profess, could not profess because they were happily getting their blood rising, kept their own consul until the summer), that come the war drums they would resist the siren call, would stick to their Whiggish, Futurist, Constructionist, Cubist worlds and blast the war-makers to hell in quotes, words, chords, clanged metal, and pretty pastels. They would stay the course.  

And then the war drums intensified, the people, their clients, patrons and buyers, cried out their lusts and they, they made of ordinary human clay as it turned out, poets, artists, sculptors, writers, serious and not, musicians went to the trenches to die deathless deaths in their thousands for, well, for humankind, of course, their always fate  ….            

Under Fire: The story of a squad

Under Fire: The story of a squad
Translated from the French novel Le Feu first published in 1916, Under Fire: The Story of a Squad realistically covers the horrors of the war.
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Silence?

In the years immediately following the war some publishers were reluctant to promote war books. Nevertheless, novels such as Gilbert Frankau’s Peter Jackson, Cigar Merchant (1919), and Roland Dorgelès’ Les Croix de Bois (1919) were enormously successful. They tended, however, to avoid the anti-war template laid down by Barbusse and argued that, despite having been horrific at times, the war was justified.

As the 1920s progressed, more critical voices were heard. Veterans such as e e cummings in the USA and C E Montague in Britain challenged the assumptions that had underpinned the war.[1] Greater temporal distance triggered a disillusioned reflection on the legacy of the conflict. During this period modernist writers such as Virginia Woolf and Ford Madox Ford also destabilised the traditional, heroic memory of the war through their experimentation with literary forms.[2] Fragmented narratives and stream of consciousness techniques revealed the potentially devastating effects of the conflict on the human psyche.

- See more at: http://www.bl.uk/world-war-one/articles/prose-responses-to-world-war-one#sthash.nMsZT7A2.dpuf
 

Saturday, January 03, 2015

Betty’s Tale -With The Teen Queens’ Eddie, My Love In Mind  

 

EDDIE MY LOVE

(Aaron Collins / Maxwell Davis / Sam Ling)The Teen Queens - 1956

The Fontane Sisters - 1956

The Chordettes - 1956

Dee Dee Sharp - 1962

Also recorded by:

Lillian Briggs; Jo Ann Campbell; The Sweethearts.

Eddie, my love, I love you so

How I wanted for you, you'll never know

Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long

Eddie, please write me one line

Tell me your love is still only mine

Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long

You left me last September

To return to me before long

But all I do is cry myself to sleep

Eddie, since you've been gone

Eddie, my love, I'm sinking fast

The very next day might be my last

Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long

You left me last September

To return to me before long

But all I do is cry myself to sleep

Eddie, since you've been gone

Eddie, my love, I'm sinking fast

The very next day might be my last

Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long

Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long

(Transcribed from the Teen Queens

recording by Mel Priddle - May 2006)

 

…come closer, will you, because I have got a story to tell. Come on over here, here nearer me and get away from that midnight phone waiting, that eternal waiting. Waiting now in vain because if he or she has not called by this hour, nine, on a school night they are not going to call and anyway you don’t need Ma to yell at you about wasting your time waiting for that call when you could be doing homework or something. Yeah, like you could do homework with your head filled with anxiety about that call. What do parents know anyway never having been young, never having been in love. Hey, while I am talking maybe you should put on The Teen Queens’ Eddie My Love like I have on right now or some other teen trauma tune, sad, sad tune to help drown your sorrows while I’m telling the story,

Yes, get away from that midnight telephone call wait by your bedside table and listen up a minute or two because I’ve got a story to tell, a 1950s teen story to tell, or let’s make it a 1950s teen story, and if it works out for 1960s, 1970s, or 2000s teens except for the newer techno-gadgets cellphone, iPhone, smart phone ways to wait, to wait that midnight call that are different, well, well this waiting by the phone hasn’t changed that much since the 1950s when this trend started or reached a certain plateau where waiting became one of the ways that you knew you were a forlorn teen-ager, knew that life was going to be filled with ups and downs and so there you have it.

And let’s make it a boy-girl story, although I know, and you know I know, that it could have been a boy-boy, girl-girl, whatever story and that’s okay by me, except that it wouldn’t be okay, okay as a public prints 1950s story since those kinds of relationships had not been deemed okay to tell except maybe in some North Beach, Greenwich Village, Hollywood hills small print, exotic, erotic small press back door scenario. Mainly those kinds of relationships would be gist for the mill in the snicker of boys’ sports after school gym locker room faggot-dyke baiting and well beyond the sad tale I have to tell.

And let’s make it a Saturday night, a hard by the phone, waiting Saturday night, maybe midnight, maybe not, maybe you cried or brooded yourself to sleep before that hour, that teen dread hour when all dreams came crashing to the floor, like a million guys and girls know about, and if you don’t then, maybe move on, but I think I know who I’m talking to.

And let’s make it a winter night to kind of fit your mood, kind of make you realize that you are totally alone against the elements, yes, a long hard winter night, wind maybe blowing up a little, maybe a little dusting of snow, and just that many more dark hours until the dawn and facing another day without…

And let’s make it, oh the hell with that, let’s make it get to the story and we’ll work out the scenic details as we go along…

I’ll tell you, Betty’s got it bad, yes, Betty from across the way, from the house across the way where right now I can see her in her midnight waiting bedroom window, staring off, staring off somewhere but I know, I know, what ‘s wrong with her. No, not that, no she is not in the “family way,” I don’t think, I hope not, hope not because then she will have to suddenly go out of town to visit some ailing aunt, or something like that. What is wrong with Betty is simpler. Her Eddie has flown the coop, and has not been heard from for a while.

Yes, Betty’s got it bad, and it’s too bad because she deserves better. Let me tell you the story behind the story, although I can already see that you might know what’s coming. I had noticed Betty’s change of behavior but was not sure what it meant. It first started when she did not return my wave when I waved across the street to her, then she would hang her head down walking like some zombie in the movies. So one day I asked her about what was up and she said she did not want to talk about it, made a serious point to me that she did not want to talk about it when I pressed the issue so I let it drop. Yes, so the way I know the story is because Betty’s best friend, Sue, gave me the details when I saw Betty continue moping around, moping around day after day like there was going to be no tomorrow, especially after leaving school with her head down, arriving home with her head moping down even more after the mailman came. I contacted Sue to see what she knew, knew from those little afternoon girl chatting calls or maybe from that mandatory Monday morning before school in the girls’ “lav” talkfest. 

Yes, I know, I know Sue, old best friend Sue, is nothing but a man-trap and has flirted with more guys in this town than you could shake a stick at, including Eddie a couple of times when Betty had to go out of town with her parents (keep that between us, please). Hell, now that I think about it, I’ll get this thing all balled up if I tell it my way what with what I know, or people have told me about Sue and I want you to get the straight dope.  Let Betty, old true to Eddie, Betty tell her story herself, or at least through Sue, and I’ll just write it down my way, and you be the judge:

“Last summer, oh sweet sixteen last summer, old innocent girlish sweet paper dream last summer, Eddie, Eddie Cooper, Eddie with the hot cherry red, dual exhaust, heavy silver chrome, radio- blasting, ’55 Chevy (my brother Timmy told me about cars and their doo-dads, I just like to look good in them and the ’55 is the “boss”), that I knew I would be just crazy to sit in, and give the “look”, the superior “I’m with a hot guy, and sitting in a hot car , bow down peasants look,” came rumbling and tumbling into town.

Summer beach time, soaking up the sun down between the yacht clubs beach time, summer not a care in the world time , Sue, my best friend Sue, my best friend Sue and all that stuff they say about her and the boys is just fantasy, male fantasy, and I were sitting just talking about this and that, oh well, about boys, and I was telling her the latest about Billy, Billy from the neighborhood, who I had been going out with for ages, more or less, Billy with the reading too many books and wanting to talk poetry or “beat” stuff, Billy, Billy with the no car, or sometimes with car, father’s old run-down jalopy which might or might not work like happened one night and it was a close thing that I was not grounded for coming in so late, but no “boss” car, never, when Eddie, Eddie, Edward John Cooper, parked his honey Chevy and came over to us, through all that sand and all,

Eddie gave Sue the “once over,” like guys will do automatically with any girl something about their genetic make-up drives them that way and Sue adds her part by always looking like she has either just finished a roll in the hay or would not mind being talked into it but that is just her come-hither “style” and like I said before don’t make too much of it. Yeah, she knows sex stuff, a lot from what she tells me but mostly it’s to aid that come-hither thing she has with guys.  Besides whatever Sue has, or thinks she has in the guy department I secretly thrill to know that that “once over” is just a game because even as he came over the sand I could see he had eyes, big blue eyes, for me, only me, We talked, idle talk, sex in the air flirty talk, don’t talk sex straight out but weave all around it talk, the mating ritual I guess they call it, still a lot of talk for a summer beach day, and I knew, I swear I knew he wanted to ask me out for later, or maybe right there to ride in his car but three’s company, and for once I couldn’t shake Sue, my best friend Sue, Sue with the million boyfriends so she says, who I could see was taken in by his big blued-eyed, black haired, tight tee-shirt, blue jean charm too.

Truce, Sue truce, as we walked home, Eddie-less, a few blocks away. I left Sue at her house. Truce still, except that I heard a big engine, a big “boss” car engine, coming up behind me as I hit the sidewalk in front of my house, and dream, dream wake me up, it was Eddie, Edward  John Cooper and that cherry ’55 Chevy. He said, and I will never forget this, “Hop in,” and opened the door. I was supposed to have a “date,” some dreary poetry reading date with Billy, ah, Billy who. We were off as soon as I closed that cherry red door.

And we were off, off for a sweet summer of love, ’55 Chevy love and okay, truth, because I know that Sue probably blabbed it around but I let Eddie take me to the back seat of that warm-bodied Chevy one night, and some nights after that. But let me just tell you this about Sue, my best friend Sue, honest, she’s the one who told me what to do with a boy, yah, she told me everything.

Late August came as summer beach love drew to an end and those damn school bells seemed ready to ring, Eddie, out of school Eddie my love, told me he had a job offer in another state and he needed to take the job to support his mother and his ’55 Chevy.

I started crying; crying like crazy, trying to make him stay, stay with his ever-lovin’ Betty but no he had to go. He didn’t know about a phone, or a phone call, but he said he would write and I haven’t heard from him since even though I wear out the mailman every day”…

Christ my heart bleeds for Betty every time I think about what Eddie had done, and see, I know Eddie, no I don’t know Eddie personally but I know Eddie stuff, stuff that has been going on since Adam and Eve, hell, probably before that.

Betty, Betty, sweet Betty, I hate to break it to you but Eddie, Edward John Cooper ain’t coming back. And old Eddie ain’t writing and it ain’t because he doesn’t have the three cents for a stamp, no Eddie, well, enough of that, let's just say Eddie’s moved on to greener pastures. (I heard later when I asked about it, asked some guys who had known Eddie when he worked at Smitty’s Garage last summer while he was with Betty that Eddie had left for Florida, had a new girl there, or maybe an old girlfriend who had some kind of spell over him but all of that was just guys talking one night. But you never know with Eddie guys.) 

Betty, Betty hold onto your Eddie My Love dream for a moment. But Betty, tomorrow, not tomorrow tomorrow but some tomorrow you‘ve got to move on. Betty then why don’t you call up your Billy. I’ll be here by the phone, the midnight phone…

Let All GLBTQ Groups, Veterans For Peace and All Peace Activists In The Annual Saint Patrick's Day Parade in 2015  

Veterans For Peace
 
For Immediate Release
 
Contact: Pat Scanlon, Office: 978-475-1776, Cell: 978-590-4248, email:Vets4PeaceChapter9@gmail.com 
 
Veterans For Peace applauds the decision by the Allied War Veterans Council to allow OUTVETS, a fledging new LGBT veterans group, to walk in the Saint Patrick’s Day Parade.
 
The LGBT community has been denied participation in the traditional Saint Patrick’s Day Parade for over twenty years. This certainly signals a step in the right direction.
 
It is wonderful that this group can participate. Now what about the rest of the LGBT community and area peace groups? “Now may be the time to invite Veterans For Peace and all the other LGBT groups and peace groups to participate in the celebration of Saint Patrick on this very special day,” stated Pat Scanlon, a Vietnam Veteran, and the Coordinator of the Boston area chapter of Veterans For Peace.
 
Veterans For Peace is a national veterans organization with headquarters in Saint Louis, Missouri. The organization has 140 chapters and 4,000 members across the country. One of the largest and most active chapters is known as the Smedley D. Butler Brigade right here in the Boston area. Several members of the local chapter are life long residents of South Boston yet are not allowed to march in the traditional parade because they advocate peace.
 
Veterans For Peace is the only veterans organization in the country that opposes war as an instrument of national policy, and advocates exhausting all avenues of diplomacy and negotiations before sending our young men and women into battle. Because of this stance veterans who have dutifully served this country, many who have experienced the horrors of war, are not allowed to participate in this historic parade because they now advocate peaceful resolution to conflict.
 
Five years ago Veterans For Peace applied to walk in the traditional parade and were denied. The stated reason for the denial was that the parade organizers “did not want the word peace associated with the word veteran.”. For the past five years Veterans For Peace have organized their own “Saint Patrick’s Peace Parade, the alternative parade for Peace, Equality, Jobs, Environmental Stewardship, Social and Economic Justice, that follows the same route as the first parade, but a mile behind. “Our parade is welcoming and inclusive of all groups especially the Boston area LGBT and peace groups because of their past exclusion,” added Scanlon. Last year the Saint Patrick’s Peace Parade had two thousand participants, eight divisions, eight bands and a lot of Irish revelry celebrating the patron saint of Ireland.
 
We think that the time has come to combine both parades and have one inclusive welcoming parade for all those wishing to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day. Maybe this is year,” concluded Scanlon.
Web: smedleyvfp.org    Twitter: @smedleyVFP       Facebook: facebook.com/smedleyvfp