The last days of Quaid-e-Azam

Few individuals significantly alter the

course of history. Fewer still modify the map
of the world. Hardly anyone can be credited
with creating a nation-state. Mohammad Ali
Jinnah did all three.
(Stanley Wolpert)
From the 1930s, Jinnah suffered from tuberculosis; only his sister and a few others
close to him were aware of his condition. In a 1938 letter, he wrote to a supporter
that "You must have read in the papers how during my tours ... I suffered, which was
not because there was anything wrong with me, but the irregularities [of the
schedule] and over-strain told upon my health".
His political activities and responsibilities had increased manifold during the last ten
years of his life, when he had already entered the morning of his old age. Work,
work and more work. He drained away the last reserves of his energy like a
spendthrift child of nature. He would say, Have you ever heard of a General take a
holiday, when his army is fighting for its very survival on a battlefield?
Although Quaid-i-Azam never rested a moment after he had become the GovernorGeneral and literally worked himself to death, his first months were the busiest and
most anxious. War in Kashmir, ill-equipped armed forces, stagnant economy, empty
treasury, paralyzed administration, refugees problem, and myriads of national and
international problems had taken a heavy toll of Quaids health. But the Quaid
exerted himself to the utter neglect of his health and thundered in these uncertain
days, Pakistan has come to stay, and, as everyone knows, it stayed and shall stay.
During February and March of 1948, Quaid-i-Azam still worked long hours at his
desk. Jinnah worked with a tin of Craven "A" cigarettes at his desk, of which he had
smoked 50 or more a day for the previous 30 years, as well as a box of Cuban
cigars. As his health got worse, he took longer and longer rest breaks in the private
wing of Government House in Karachi, where only he, Fatima and the servants were
allowed.
In February, 1948, he visited Baluchistan. In March, he flew the thousand miles to
East Pakistan, where he endured a program of receptions, reviews and speeches,
during several days. From April 15 for seven days the Quaid-i-Azam was on the
North West Frontier, where there were more receptions, reviews and speeches:
when he returned to Karachi he was too ill to work at his desk for very long. Sir
Francis Mudie, one of Quaid-i-Azams last guest in Karachi has recalled, I stayed
with him for a few days late in May, he was very ill and spent most of the time in
bed.
To escape from the heat and humidity of Karachi and on the advice of his personal
physician, the Quaid decided to fly to Quetta. In June 1948, the Quaid moved, to a
bungalow at Ziarat, eighty miles from Quetta. Lt. Mazhar Ahmed, one of his A.D.C.s
describing Quaid-i-Azams days at Ziarat wrote, Here was neither the heat of

Karachi nor the formality of the Governor-Generals House. Here the GovernorGeneral was just Quaid-i-Azam, and Quaid-i-Azam was just a man on a holiday. In
the sitting room jokes were cracked, yarns were spun, discussions were prolonged,
and even the A.D.Cs talked.
The Quaid-i-Azam knew no rest even during his stay in Ziarat. Lt. Mazhar Ahmad has
said, We raised the Governor-Generals dark blue flag over the quite house and
hoped that the Quaid would rest. But it was not in his nature. The black dispatchboxes arrived each day from Karachi, with M.A.J. stamped on them, in gold. They
were full of work to be done. My clearest memory of his is of his slim hands, busy
with papers.
Some days later, the Governor-General flew from Quetta to Karachi to perform the
opening ceremony of the State Bank of Pakistan himself accompanying his sister, he
drove to the Bank in the State coach and delivered an impressive speech. In the
archives of the Karachi broadcasting station, there is a gramophone record of the
speech that the Quaid made on July 1, 1948. Whosoever, heard him on this
occasion, realized Quaid-i-Azam was in bad health, his voice scarcely audible,
pausing, coughing, as he proceeded with the text of his speech.
After five days stay at Karachi, where he attended to some very important files, he
went back to Quetta by air. Once again in Quetta requests began to pour in from
various institutions and demands were made from so many individuals and leaders,
who were anxious to see him. He felt dejected that his health could not permit him
to oblige them. The doctors decided to move him up to Ziarat, where it would be
cooler than Quetta and decidedly more restful.
Back in the bungalow at Ziarat, twenty-three days after the opening of the State
Bank, the Quaid had to yield to the constant care of Colonel Ilahi Bakhsh. He was
reduced to a skeleton weighing only 70 pounds. The Colonel Bakhsh found him
Shockingly weak and thin. Farrukh Amin, also on the Quaids staff at Ziarat wrote
in the Dawn Often in these days did I find him walking up and down his bedroom at
dead of night.
It was obvious to those around him at Ziarat that his health was fast deteriorating
and Lt. Ahmad writes, Miss Fatima Jinnah who for years had been the Quaids
companionin the days of ill-health looked after the Quaid-i-Azam with an affection
and devotion which only a sister is capable of. Often she would go without sleep for
nights on end, nursing him, humoring him, reading out to him, or just sitting by his
side.
The condition of Quaid-i-Azam was getting worse day by day. When the Doctor Ilahi
Bux complained about his working habits during his last illness at Ziarat, he said
There is nothing wrong with me. I have stomach trouble and exhaustion due to
overwork and worry. For forty years I have worked for fourteen hours a day, never
knowing what disease was. For the last few years I have had annual attacks of fever
and cough. My doctors in Bombay regarded these attacks as bronchitis.For the
last years or two, however, they have increased, both in frequency and severity,
and they are much more exhausting. Quaid-i-Azam continued, I do not think that
there is anything organically wrong with me. If my stomach can be put right I will
recover soon.

But the tests of the doctors revealed a different story. On July 29, X-ray photograph
proved the damage to the Quaids lungs to be more terrible than was supposed. Ian
Stephens writes, Two-thirds of one lung seemed gone, and about a quarter of the
other. Sister Dunham was called in from Quetta to nurse him. On the first day
when she wanted to adjust the pillows, he said, Leave me alone dont touch me.
She said, All right, if you dont wish to be helped, I wont help you. The doctor has
ordered I dont take orders; I give orders, came the reply. Sister Dunham
withdrew the word order and said The doctor has requested. Such outbursts of
temper were due to the malignant disease. Otherwise he was not harsh, though it is
admitted on all hands that he was a little hard, no doubt.
A few days later doctors found his blood pressure very low, and there was swelling
on his feet. After a prolonged conference the doctors held that, in their opinion, the
altitude of Ziarat was not good for him in that condition of health. On August 9, the
doctors decided that the Quaid must be moved from the perilous heights of Ziarat,
to Quetta.
Quaid-i-Azam left Ziarat for Quetta on 13th August, 1948. The car moved slowly to
avoid jerks and bumps, taking four hours to reach Quetta. As soon as they reached
the residency to Quetta, the doctors examined him and found he had stood the
journey well.
14th August, 1948, when Pakistan was to celebrate its first anniversary of
independence, was drawing near and in spite of his doctors advice to the contrary,
he was working on the message he wanted to give to the nation on that occasion.
He was busy at it, his failing health notwithstanding. In spite of his physical
disabilities, the Quaids mind was very active and alert. He worked in a tenser and
more emotional way. His doctors never succeeded in stopping the onward rush of
his mighty ocean of his will that wanted to sweep away all obstacles standing as
hindrances in the path of his people.
On August 16, the doctors were pleased to tell him that there was a forty percent
improvement in the conditions of his lungs. Two days later he was able to begin
work again, on Government Papers, for an hour a day. The word holiday was alien to
his mind. Once he was asked about his Chief recreations to forget his office worries.
He answered, My profession is such that it never allows me time for recreation.
However, overwork killed him.
In the first days of September, the doctors, attending on the Quaid felt as if chances
of his recovery were receding. To add to his difficulties, the altitude of Quetta was
having an adverse effect on his health, as he was finding difficulty in breathing,
making it necessary to frequently give him oxygen.
On the evening of September 5, 1948, the Quaid developed pneumonia. For three
days he ran high temperature. In spite of afflictions of ill-health, his mind continued
to breathe burden of responsibilities of State. The problems confronting the new
State were his unshakable pre-occupation, and often in his sleep he would say
Pakistan. In a desperate attempt to save his life, it was decided to remove him
from the altitude of Quetta to the sea-level of Karachi. Discreetly, the news was

conveyed to the Quaid-i-Azam that it was essential to leave Quetta at once for
Karachi.
On September 10, Dr. Bakhsh had to tell Miss Jinnah that there was little hope of her
brother living for more than a few days. Next morning, on 11 September, 1948,
three aircrafts were landed nearby, including the Quaids beautiful Viking, to which
he was carried on a stretcher. As he was being carried on a stretcher into the cabin
of the Vicking, the pilot and the crew lined up to give him a salute. He raised his
feeble and trembling hand with difficulty to return the salute.
He was laid comfortably in the seats that had been converted into an improvised
bed in the front cabin, and with him sat Miss Fatima Jinnah, and the nurse, sister
Dunham. Within a few minutes the air craft was flying at 7000 feet, over the rugged
Quetta hills after about two hours flying, the Viking landed at Mauripur Airport at
4:15 P.M. the arrival was kept a close secret.
As instructed in advance, there was no one at the airport. Colonel Geofrey Knowles,
the Military Secretary of the Governor-General, was there to receive the party. The
Quaid was carried on a stretcher to a military ambulance that had been kept ready
to drive him to the Governor-Generals House.
Miss Fatima Jinnah and Sister Dunham sat with him in the ambulance, while the
other members of the party left in cars in advance, only a Cadillac car with the
doctors and the Military Secretary was following the slow moving ambulance.
After it had covered about four miles, the ambulance broke down. Fatima Jinnah
wrote, After we had covered about four miles, the ambulance coughed, as if
gasping for breath, and came to a sudden stop. After about five minutes, I came out
of the ambulance and was told that it had run short of petrol. The driver started
fidgeting with the engine, but it would not start as I entered the ambulance again,
the Quaids hands moved slightly, and his eyes looked at me in an inquiring manner.
I bent low and said to him, there is a breakdown in the engine of the ambulance.
He closed his eyes. Sister Dunham and I cooled his face by turns, waiting for
another ambulance to come, every minute an eternity of agony. He could not be
shifted to the Cadillac (car), as it was not big enough for the stretcher. And so we
waited.
Nearby stood hundreds of huts of refugees, who went about their business, not
knowing that their Quaid, who had given them a homeland, was in their midst, lying
helpless in an ambulance that had run out of petrol. Cars honked on their way,
buses and trucks streamed to their destination, and we stood there immobilized in
an ambulance that refused to move an inch, with a precious life ebbing away, drop
by drop, and breath by breath.
Usually there is a strong sea-breeze in Karachi, which keeps the temperature down,
but that day there was no breeze, and the heat was unbearable. To add to his
discomfort, scores of flies buzzed around his face and his hands had lost their
strength to raise themselves to ward them off.

After long and painful waiting, there came another ambulance. He was carried on
the stretcher to the newly arrived ambulance and the last lap of journey began.
There was no flag on the ambulance. So it moved through the city unnoticed by the
crowds who had come out to enjoy the first cool breeze of evening.
At ten minutes past six in the evening the ambulance arrived at government House,
and the Quaid was carried up to his room, soon to set out to his final journey.
At about 9:30 P.M. The Quaid showed signs of acute discomfort. His doctors were by
his beside, examining him. His doctors raised the end of the Quaid-i-Azams bed, to
hasten the flow of blood to his heart. Then they tried to inject a drug into his veins,
but the veins had collapsed. At 9:50 Colonel Ilahi Bakhsh leaned over and
whispered, Sir, we have given you an injection to strengthen you, and it will soon
have its effect. God willing, you are going to live.
The Quaid-i-Azam moved his head and spoke for the last time: he said faintly, No, I
am not. Thirty minutes later, while sleeping peacefully, he breathed his last. The
news of Quaids death spread fast and wide. There was sorrow in every heart and
home throughout Pakistan. His death was felt as a personal loss for every Pakistani.
It was an irreparable loss to the nascent state of Pakistan, and of the entire Muslim
world. The newborn state was orphaned. The piloting light was gone when it was
most needed.
He, however, was a truly great man and precious treasure. The Quaid knew what
the people needed from him. He therefore, sacrificed all chances of recovery of his
health and assumed the responsibility of helping the new state to overcome the
initial difficulties as Governor General of Pakistan.