The Death of a Newspaper
Until the other day my editor in Lahore , Tahir Mirza wrote on account of the closure of The Civil & Military Gazette in 1963. He himself does not remember for which paper he had written, but since the matter is of considerable importance, and since it constitutes one of the darkest chapters in the history of the Press in Pakistan , it is worth recalling here.
Here, then, is Tahir Mirza 's account of "The Death of a Newspaper" (as the piece was headlined).
"The Management of The Civil & Military Gazette announces with deep regret its decision to close down the newspaper with effect from today. Circumstances do not permit us to function any longer."
Thus, on September 4, 1963, with these formal words printed on a sodden sheet in solemn black type, died The Civil & Military Gazette after a printing history that had survived the vicissitudes of 94 years. It died suddenly and largely unmourned. On the fatal night, the trusted old rotary threw out the single-sheet obituary notices and then ground to a halt. It was a favourite pressroom joke that the old machine was so old that if one were to clean the dust from its hinges, it would fall apart. The pallbearers, members of the nightshift editorial team, stood by mournfully; their hands held respectfully behind their backs. There were tears in some eyes, but journalists are supposed to be impervious to sentiment, and so the tray drops were firmly rubbed away. Somebody cracked a dirty joke: a machine man cursed those responsible for depriving him of his daily bread.
As the sub-editors trooped out of the building, a full moon shone down mockingly from a clear sky. A brass plaque outside the Editor's room glinted eerily in the moonlight. It said: Rudyard Kipling Worked Here 1882-1887.
By the sudden decision of one person, nearly 200 journalists and Press workers had overnight lost their jobs, and-a fact, which is perhaps of more importance-the only independent English daily in West Pakistan had ceased publication. The last proper issue of the Gazette , dated the third of the September, had announced in large letter: More curbs on the Press; and there has been a tendency among certain persons to link the newspaper's closure with the Press ordinance, so cleverly was the date of execution fixed. But this is one case where the Government cannot be directly blamed. The newspaper had certainly been following a refreshingly independent policy; its editorials were often sharply critical of the Government, and it made fun of the foibles of Ministers and their like. But it was never abusive or tendentious; it had most firmly lent its support to the Government on the Family Law Ordinance and other measures, which it considered to be for the public good. Its editor was never given even an indirect indication that the Government was displeased with the newspaper's policy. Its circulation, despite the old rotary, was increasing, and under the capable handling of a team of experienced journalists brought from its rival, The Pakistan Times , it had become undoubtedly the best-edited English newspaper in the country. This improvement was graciously noted by The Pakistan Times itself in an editorial written on the newspaper's death.
Perhaps there had been some covert threats to the proprietor by way of delayed or withheld permits, but most of the old staff feel that it was business considerations that weighed more heavily with the management. If the old Gazette building-situated on Lahore 's expensive Mall -is demolished, every inch of the land would be worth its weight in gold. Perhaps a supermarket could be built there, fetching tons of money where the Gazette was losing several thousand rupees a month. A large sum, certainly, but hardly calculated to worry the proprietor, a man of millions, gathered from such ventures as cotton textiles and cement. Even if the proprietor was tired of running the newspaper, it is curious that he never offered it for sale; there should have been no dearth of buyers in days when former politicians have again begun to feel the need for publicity. It is also interesting to recall here that at the time of the newspaper's reorganization in October 1962, the proprietor had promised to buy a new rotary and to bring Mr. Mazhar Ali Khan , the former editor of The Pakistan Times , to head the newspaper. Both these promises remained unfulfilled; and the proprietor even refused to see Mr. Mazhar Ali Khan after the first meeting when the reorganization scheme was discussed.
All that can be positively said about the Government's role in this sorry episode is that while it did not close down the newspaper, it did nothing to prevent it from folding up, as it had once done some two years ago. Perhaps it was happy that a troublesome, irritating thorn was being removed from its side. Indeed, a mysteriously worked Press note issued from Rawalpindi two days before the closure, over the signatures of Mr. Qudratullah Shahab -that 'enlightened' former Information Secretary-had made it clear that the Government should do nothing to prevent the proprietor from closing down the newspaper. It said that the Information Secretary had assured a deputation of journalists that the Government would ensure 'humane treatment' to the staff of the Gazette if the newspaper closed down. The Press note surprised the staff, who till then had no inkling of the fact that the axe was to fall over them and who had never sent or authorised any delegation to meet the Information Secretary. Who are our well wishers? They asked wonderingly.
The journalists have now dispersed - all, that is, except eleven of them who had been brought in October 1962 on three-year contracts. They have not been paid their contractual dues, and have instead been asked to attend office from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. daily on weekdays. They are the oddest group of journalists in the country. All experienced hands; they are ostensibly being paid to unlearn what they had learned through years of hard toil. They sit in the Editor's room, peopled by ghosts of Rudyard Kipling and other notable British newspapermen, and while away the long hours in small talk or reading and writing-and in preparing for litigation with the proprietor. As in peacetime, so in war, the Editor has swiftly taken over command of the editorial team's litigation, and spends his time pouring over voluminous law tomes. Some of the "contractors," as they have come to be known in Lahore 's journalistic circles, occasionally adjourn to the PA's room to play a round of bad bridge.
While, when the newspaper was alive, they had pined for a breathing space, for a time to be with their families and friends, they have now realised how vexatious idleness can be. There was a time when the ancient clock on the newsroom wall had been a constant challenge to their ability and craftsmanship; now the hands never seem to move. But they have kept up their spirits and enjoy picnic lunches on the editorial table.
They have filed a dispute in the Industrial Court, and the first hearing of the case has been fixed for January 10. And as they wait, tourists drop in searching for a bit of Kiplingese and to murmur a few words of condolence.
Monday, June 19, 2000
