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The woman was a phenomenon. Easily the most influential figure
during Pakistan's second military regime, with the slightest gesture
of her bejewelled hand she could guarantee employment, ensure promotions
and bring about unwelcome transfers. Yet, interestingly, few even
know her real name: Akleem Akhtar. General Rani she was, and remains
to all but an intimate few.
There are enough reasons for the lady's ascension to local legend
status. In her glory days she seemed omnipotent and was brazen about
her exploits. And now, even while suffering from breast cancer that
has led to metastasis in the liver and kidney, bedridden and in
semi-seclusion, she remains spirited and outspoken.
Yet, doing a story on her was probably the most difficult assignment
I have undertaken. For one thing, everyone I was certain was acquainted
with her, was reluctant to even own up to the fact that they knew
her. So, for starters, I made a call to her daughter, Aroosa Alam,
the defence journalist for the Pakistan Observer and the news coordinator
for the Middle East Broadcasting Company, and pop star Fakhre Alam's
mother.
Aroosa nipped all efforts at contact with her mother in the bud,
claiming that not only was General Rani far too unwell to entertain
visitors, but also, her brothers were completely against their mother
appearing in the press. "My mother has been hurt sufficiently
by the media already; we don't want her private life exploited any
further," stated a stern Aroosa.
A call to Naureen and Arshad Sami, Adnan Sami Khan's parents, proved
equally unsuccessful. Although General Rani is Naureen's maternal
aunt, she politely but firmly denied even knowing the lady. There
was a similar response from Zil-e-Huma, whose mother Madame Nur
Jehan's friendship with General Rani was legion. Huma completely
denied any knowledge of the woman.
A journalist working for the Jang group, Maqsood Butt nearly had
an apoplexy when I mentioned the story I was working on. While in
the past Maqsood Butt had written extensively on this topic and
is said to have close ties with the family, he has for several years,
refrained from even bringing up her name in an article.
"I promised her that I would never talk about her or her family
again," he stated nervously and refused to help me in any way.
Clearly, the woman I was seeking out was no ordinary woman. As I
kept running into a blind alley and became increasingly despondent,
General Rani's lawyers, S. M. Zafar and Ijaz Batalvi, Mustafa Khar,
and a few journalists and government officials who wish to remain
anonymous, appeared like beacons and lit my way.
A sneak visit was arranged to General Rani's house and thereupon
begins this story.
The house General Rani resides in is rather small, with little more
than a handkerchief-sized lawn in front, and the main door opening
into a virtually non-existent hall that leads straight to her room.
There was an air of neglect about the house; the garden was unkempt
and the floor unswept. General Rani was lying in bed. My first impression
was one of shock. Having visualised an elegant, elderly woman, I
was instead confronted by a dark, overweight woman. Her hair had
obviously suffered due to heavy doses of chemotherapy, and the loss
of hair accentuated the pock-marks on her face. But though visibly
ill, she was in good spirits and happy to entertain visitors - a
commodity I suspect, is a rare treat nowadays.
General Rani hails from a village in Gujarat. Her father was a zamindar
and the family was reportedly well-to-do. Those who knew her family
describe their house as one of the bigger mansions in the area,
with a number of servants running around to the residents' bidding.
From the outset, Akleem was an independent spirit. She was a tomboy,
fond of outdoor sports and hunting. And though she did not even
complete her matric, her sharp intelligence more than compensated
for her lack of education.
At a tender age she was married to a police officer many times her
senior. Though the marriage lasted for some time and she bore six
children, General Rani was never happy. Her husband was a traditionalist
and believed that a wife's primary duty was to serve her husband.
A woman as strong and independent as she found this hard to digest,
and squabbles were common between the two. The sham their marriage
was eventually reduced to, collapsed one day - right on Murree's
Mall Road.
One summer, when the family was vacationing in Murree, a burqa-clad
Rani and her husband went for a stroll on the Mall. As was customary
for him, he walked a step or two behind her so as to keep an eye
on her. Suddenly there was a gust of wind - "a lovely breeze"
says she, and quite spontaneously Rani lifted the naqab covering
her face to allow the breeze to caress her cheeks.
Her husband immediately tapped her with his walking stick to reprimand
her. Enraged and insulted, she threw caution to the wind and flung
her naqab to the ground, and her abaya into a cracking fire. She
then turned to face her husband with a defiant gleam in her eyes.
She explains her reaction in these words: "I just felt I had
had enough. The anger and frustration had been building up inside
me for many months, but that day, it just all came oozing out. I
wanted to tear my husband's muffler into bits, scratch his face,
pull his hair out, and do all sorts of damage to him. The only thing
that stopped me were the people on the Mall."
Though this incident marked the end of her marriage, the official
divorce process (if there was one) took place later. Most sources
agree that Rani was only married once, but one of her closest friend
states that there was a second marriage, much later in her life
and of an extremely short duration. Whatever the truth of that marriage,
the dramatic end of her first proved a turning point in her life
and transformed Rani irrevocably. She began to thrive on her independence
and her life philosophy evolved into a specific ambition. As she
puts it, "I was determined to beat men at their own game. Since
my husband was in the police, I had been observing men in positions
of power throughout my married life and I had realised that all
men in positions of power needed a vent and the vent they require
the most is a bedmate provided through a reliable agency. The higher
a man's position, the greater his demand."
In one interview, Rani stated: "I knew that dumb, pretty girls
who come with no strings attached are a universal failing of men
in power. After my marriage collapsed and I had to find the means
to support myself and my children, I decided to become the provider
of such girls to men in need."
In yet another conversation, she talked about the understanding
she gained of the workings of the government by listening to her
husband's complaints. "I realised that in this country everything
worked on mutual favours and the profession that I had chosen for
myself entitled me to these favours."
This outspokenness notwithstanding, Rani maintains she personally
never allowed herself to be used or even thought of as any man's
keep. She contends she maintained her dignity and saw herself as
a sexless mother figure. She says she was always the woman behind
the scenes, there to run the show and mop up the mess.
The gods were obviously smiling on her, because soon after she adopted
this profession, the man who was soon to run the show took a shine
to her. She describes her first meeting with Yahya Khan. "At
that time Agha Jani was posted at Kharian and I was living in Gujarat.
We met by chance at a party in Pindi club. Though I would often
frequent such parties, I never joined in the drinking and dancing.
Rather, I preferred sitting some distance away from the party and
usually found a seat near the men's room, well aware of the fact
that the more they drank the more visits they would have to make
to the toilet and hence past me.
"Agha Jani was in full swing at this party. He was completely
drunk, and was continually traipsing back and forth from the men's
room. During one of these visits, he saw me and took a fancy to
me. I remember asking about him and after we were formally introduced,
I invited him to Gujarat."
Thereafter Yahya Khan began making frequent journeys from Kharian
to Gujarat. Somewhere along the way she earned the title of General
Rani and the name stuck. While speculation about the exact nature
of her relationship with Yahya Khan rages - they were said to be
friends, lovers, shared a sibling relationship or one of demand
and supply at various times through the course of their relationship
- the general consensus among Rani's more intimate circle is that
they never had a physical relationship. Various explanations are
put forth to explain this. "Yahya never desired her,"
says a friend. "She was a woman of principles and from day
one, she made it clear to him what her limits were," states
another.
Nonetheless, after he became the martial law adminstrator, Rani
became a cornerstone in his life. Yahya's weaknesses were drink
and women and Rani masterfully catered to both. Among the women
she introduced him to were film actress Taranna - film actress Andleeb's
mother - Madame Nur Jehan and Nael Kamal. She relates how Yahya's
fascination with Nur Jehan began.
"One night Agha Jani came to visit me and was somewhat agitated.
The moment he entered, he inquired if I had heard the song "cheeche
da chala" from the film Dhee Rani. I smiled and stated that
I had no time to listen to songs. So, he called the military secretary
and ordered him to have a copy of the song delivered to my house
at once. It was two o' clock in the morning and the MS had to specially
have an audio shop opened up in order to obtain the album. But the
command was obeyed and within an hour, Agha Jani was blissfully
listening to the song.
"Observing him I smiled and stated that since he seemed to
enjoy the song so immensely, I would bring the singer to his house
on his birthday. This greatly pleased him and so the very next day,
I took a flight to Lahore. In those days, a suite at the Intercontinental
Hotel was permanently reserved for me and so from the airport, I
went directly to the hotel. From there I called Nur Jehan and asked
her to come and meet me. Till now, I had never been formally introduced
to her; I just knew of her, as she knew of me. Well, Nur Jehan came,
and we talked, and the next week she arrived in Islamabad to dance
and sing for General Yahya Khan."
Madame Nur Jehan's relationship with General Yahya Khan subsequently
came under great scrutiny. At first, Madame persistently denied
that she was on friendly terms with the general, but when objectionable
pictures of both of them were printed, she resorted to another defence
and officially stated that General Rani, had time and, again tried
to get her involved with the general. In response to this, Rani
laughed and commented that Madame was hardly a suckling infant who
could be coerced into doing what others wanted her to do. The Rani-Nur
Jehan tussle was played up by the press, until eventually, some
time before the latter's death, the two made up. Following is an
extract from an interview General Rani gave after Madame's death.
Q: Why did you introduce Madame Nur Jehan to General Yahya Khan?
A: Some tax inspectors were bugging Madame Nur Jehan and the poor
woman was in great distress. She asked me to help her out and I
introduced her to Agha Jani.
Q: How would you define your relationship with Nur Jehan?
A: She was just like my sister and I often called her baji.
Q: How would you describe her character?
A: She was an exceptionally brave and confident woman, who brought
up her children singlehandedly. The only flaw she had was her greed
for money.
Q: It is said that Madame tried to drive a wedge between you and
Yahya Khan?
A: I don't want to say anything on this issue.
If Rani catered to Agha Jani's every whim, there is no question
that she was royally compensated. During Yahya Khan's time, General
Rani prospered way beyond her wildest expectations. There are endless
reports of how she would use her 'special relationship' with Yahya
to fill her coffers. She would ask for a plot of land or a house
in return for a favour and those desperate for a job or promotion
would readily fulfill her demands. During this time, politicians
were also eager to win her approval and among the many who curried
her favour were Mustafa Khar and Z. A. Bhutto.
General Rani describes her relationship with these two men: "Both
Mustafa Khar and Z. A. Bhutto would come and sit at my house for
hours on end, begging me to introduce them to the General. Mustafa
Khar was particularly fond of listening to the poems I used to write.
In fact if you compare Yahya Khan to these two, I would say that
I was closer to Bhutto and Khar and arranged more parties for them
than I did for Agha Jani."
It was a closeness that was not to endure. As soon as Bhutto came
to power, General Rani was put under house arrest and her telephone
connection was cancelled. Her crime in the words of an eminent lawyer
was that, "she knew too much."
Thus began General Rani's downfall. Once the issue of house arrest
was resolved (courtesy S. M. Zafar) and her subsequent jail terms
ended (the most recent for drug-trafficking), General Rani never
really reverted to her former glory. By now the money that had so
freely flowed into her hands had also freely flowed out.
Financially wrecked, socially ostracised, dependent only on the
kindness of a few whose affections for her have endured, General
Rani lives largely in the past - in the memory of days of wine and
roses.
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