STEP: What is the Saif Center of Innovation and what was your rationale behind establishing it?

Umar Saif: It is common in universities like MIT for professors to be involved in startups. Indeed, companies like Akamai, RSA, and 3Com were all started by MIT professors and have gone on to generate billions of dollars in annual revenues.

When I moved to Pakistan around five years ago, I found that, with some effort, I could carry on doing good research, but starting a high-tech venture seemed quite out of reach. Basically, there was no eco-system for a true startup: a small company focused on an innovative product or business model that makes many multiples of the initial investment. There was no VC money available, no clear exit route (acquisition or IPO), very weak corporate law with little provision for things like co-founder options or vesting schedule. Above all, even the best students from a university like LUMS were running after jobs from outsourcing joints, with no real potential for growth beyond a certain glass ceiling (the largest IT company in Pakistan is less than 300 people).

All of this became painfully clear to me when I started BumpIn.com in a small guest room in my house. It wasn’t exactly in the garage, but it was close enough (the guest room was directly above the garage!). We toiled, dreamed, and persevered for more than 2 years to be reminded over and over again how difficult it is to do a Silicon-valley style startup in Pakistan.

This eventually led to me to setup SCI. SCI is facility for startup incubation. It is big and well-provisioned (4 floors, 18,000 square feet of covered space, dedicated fiber-optic connection), but the biggest strength of SCI is its inhabitants. Everyone at SCI works for a single purpose: to create innovative products that can result in a $100 million company. My highest point of the day in SCI is when I see two entrepreneurs from different companies share their vision, technology insights, and dreams.

In a sense, SCI is not very different from incubator models like the Y-combinator or tech-stars, albeit we do not have the same level of funding, visibility, or access to lots of successful entrepreneurs as mentors.

STEP: SCI is an incubation center but also a “training center for technology entrepreneurs and enthusiasts” (statement from the SCI page). What kind of training does a technology entrepreneur in Pakistan need?

US: The training is mostly informal. What we share with each other on a BBQ on our rooftop is at times much more valuable than what 4 years at MIT taught me. I learn everyday from our budding stars. We hope to formalize more training programs going forward, e.g., business plan competitions, workshops on technologies, pitching.

For the activities, a startup is mostly an art, not as much as science. Our activities involve everything from discussing and refining business strategy, developing business plans, preparing sales pitches, raising funding, finalizing contracts, developing new tools, organizing PR campaigns etc.

STEP: Do you think that incubation centers can work in Pakistan in the long term?

US: Of course. They have worked in many countries. I was in Seoul a few years ago and was told that there are close to 300 incubators in Seoul alone. An incubator lowers the barrier for brilliant entrepreneurs to start a company. An incubator shares the risk, shares the highs and lows and mostly takes care of the mundane aspects of running an exciting tech venture. I hope more incubators will take root in Pakistan.

STEP: Have any startups ‘graduated’ from the center?

US: There are many levels of graduation. The first 3 startups — BumpIn.com, SMSall.pk and Seenreport.com — have all become profitable ventures and moved into bigger spaces with access to more resources and more room for expansion. We are looking forward to the time they outgrow the facilities at SCI and move into their own space.

I firmly believe that if we can churn out one success out of SCI, we will create a wave of brilliant students all wanting to do a startup. All we need is one success story – but its many times more difficult to come by in a country that no investor on Sand Hill Road is willing to touch with a 10 foot pole, and where electricity is available for only about half of a working day.

Perhaps equally impressive was the faculty that LUMS was able to assemble for this nascent school. It was a small — perhaps too small — group of promising young researchers, brought together by the project team to set the standard for LUMS SSE. Leading this group at the time was Dr. Asad Abidi, a professor at the Electrical Engineering Department, University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA).

Professor Abidi was born and raised in Pakistan and moved to England at age 16. After earning his B.S. from Imperial College London, he went on to complete his M.S. and Ph.D. in Electrical Engineering from the University of California, Berkeley in 1981. Following a brief stint at the Bell Research Labs in New Jersey, in 1985 Professor Abidi joined the faculty at the UCLA Henry Samueli School of Engineering and Applied Science.  An accomplished researchers and a pioneer in the field of RF CMOS design (the stuff that’s at the heart of our cell phones), Professor Abidi has won numerous honors, culminating with his election to the National Academy of Engineering, the highest professional honor accorded to American engineers for their life-time achievements.

In the summer of 2007, Professor Abidi went on leave from UCLA and joined LUMS as the first dean of SSE. There he played a pivotal role in setting the direction of the school. But, less than two years later, Professor Abidi was back at UCLA and at his home in the beautiful Pacific Palisades, California. That is where STEP Editor Bilal Zafar sat down with Professor Abidi to talk about LUMS SSE (Part 1), and much more (Part 2).

STEP: You were leading LUMS SSE when the first batch of students was admitted. In so far as the science and engineering universities are concerned, SSE’s process of student-induction was unique in Pakistan. What sort of students was LUMS SSE looking for in that first batch?

Asad Abidi (AA): We wanted to bring in students who could be groomed to be future leaders in science and technology, and who could influence hundreds of others. So, we handpicked the few who had a combination of things; academic excellence was not the only thing. Do they, for example, have passion? It’s too early to have passion for science – although some of them already demonstrated that – but do they have passion at all? Do they have leadership skills? Do they have a personality that could influence others? Do they have breadth in their intellect? So, we were looking for a personality and a total character that suggested entrepreneurship, leadership, and so on.

LUMS SSE is an intellectually elite institution and that was the basis for our selection criteria. Our aim was to focus this kind of very intellectually elite education on people who will have a 10x impact when they come out.

STEP: One popular criticism of LUMS SSE is that it might turn out to be a great institution, but it will be an institution for a few hundred people in a nation with 25 million people of university-going age. Can an institution like this really have an impact?

AA: It is too early to say, but it has a very clear precedent and model. And the model is institutions in the US like MIT or Caltech.

The idea was that each one of the students would be educated broadly and deeply in math and science or engineering, hopefully go on to do PhDs, then return to Pakistan or engage with it somehow to influence hundreds of others. That’s why we handpicked the few who had a combination of qualities.

At the first orientation, we told all the students, and their parents were sitting with them, that every one of you is going to make a significant change to Pakistan in the end.  You don’t know how yet. You may turn out to be a technical entrepreneur, start a high-tech company, you may turn out to be a world-renowned professor … we don’t know. But every one of you is going to have an impact, because that is our mission — to produce an entire generation of scientific and engineering leaders.

I think there is absolutely nothing wrong with focusing this kind of elite education on a small group of students. We cannot have every institution that is egalitarian; it’s just not possible.  There are many other universities in Pakistan that are egalitarian, and they do a fine job. Our argument is that there is room for one elite institution; a place at which people look and say, what are they up to? How do they teach the such-and-such subject? So, in terms of curricular innovation, bringing in research, and even administrative things like selection of undergraduates, LUMS SSE can be a trendsetter in Pakistan. So, I think there is room for one such institution.

STEP: Just one such institution?

AA: Yes, you can’t have two simply because there’s not enough faculty.  To have two world class institutions, you need two world class faculties. You can’t even get one together.

STEP: Harold Shapiro, former President of Princeton University, argues in his book “A Larger Sense of Purpose” that, in order to have a sound higher education system, you need strong interaction between world-class research universities in the country and other, less prestigious teaching institutions. To me, as an outsider, LUMS SSE comes across as if it exists in bubble inside Pakistan. For example, there are very few joint appointments between professors at, say, Quaid-e-Azam University or UET Lahore or NU-FAST or NUST and LUMS. Why is that?

AA: I completely agree that there has to be open communication with the whole community because, all the institutions that define the (higher education) eco-system play complimentary roles.

To your point about SSE “existing in a bubble”, I think it’s a little more complex than that. First of all, there is a lot of fear in Pakistan that, unless you are on guard, you’ll become mediocre. There is a history of erosion of institutions such as GIKI that had started with a bang. But, that does not mean that you put things in a bubble.  What it means is that, first, you build a critical mass that defines excellence and exemplifies it. Once you have the critical mass of faculty, then you can start engaging people from other institutions who come in and actually feel uplifted by their experience and their interaction. So, while SSE was going through this period of defining its culture as an institution, perhaps it came across as existing in a bubble.

Then, there are a lot of other factors which I’m not sure I want to go into too much. I’ll only say this much: there was a sense of elitism amongst the people involved in developing SSE, and I suppose you could argue that as long as it is intellectual elitism, perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. But taken to extremes in the Pakistani milieu, elitism and over-zealousness can do damage. With the growth of the institution, I feel there is more maturity and less fear, less insecurity.

The fact of the matter is that the present faculty is so small that it is already stretched to the limit.  Next year, SSE would have three classes (freshman, sophomore and junior year) and at that point the faculty would have to bring in other people just to teach. So, I think that circumstances will force SSE to open up.  I was promoting some of this (while I was there), but at that early stage there was some opposition to this. My view was that you have to guard these fledgling institutions until this sense of excellence takes root, and once the institution knows where it’s going it should take others along with it.

STEP: Let’s get to the issue of sustainability. Can an institution like SSE sustain itself – financially as well as administratively — or will it be just a flash in the pan like many others?

AA: As of right now, it’s very hard to say. On the one hand, you can look at LUMS as an institution and say that it has been very resilient. Over the past 22 years it has only improved and, today, it enjoys a preeminent position in Pakistan. But that’s the business school, and more recently, social sciences and humanities; the Science and Engineering School is the newest addition. However, given the entirely different cultures, past success is no reliable predictor of the future.

The fragility at SSE, first of all, comes from its finances. Science instruction is an expensive enterprise. For science instruction you have to have building infrastructure, lab equipment, consumables and safety, etc., whereas in business instruction you need desks and computers. Also, SSE set a precedent by recruiting faculty with the promise that it could do publishable research, and that meant a lot of investment early on. This puts a large burden on the trustees to either give money themselves, or to raise large sums for SSE. They all come from the business background; they were involved with the business school, so perhaps one could argue that the trustees are still debating amongst themselves whether SSE is a good idea or not.  Or, at least a group among them feels that science can be real money drain with no short-term payoff, and I am sure this remains a subject of hot debate.

Administratively, the main issue is that of leadership. To run SSE, you need excellent leaders with great breadth of knowledge and experience in science research and teaching. The leaders must gain the trust and the respect of faculty, parents, students, and even government officials, because they have to interface with the government to get accreditation, funding, etc. They must also have the respect and credibility in the Pakistani academic community so that they can talk to their counterparts in other universities to show that SSE respects other institutions and wishes to bring everyone together as a community for mutual uplift. You need people at the top who do that job of being ambassadors and who really believe in it. But finding such leaders in Pakistan is very hard.

STEP: Just hard or impossible, at this point?

AA: It may be impossible.

STEP: Can’t you develop processes so that personalities become less relevant?

AA: I think it’s really hard to have well-impacted processes defined in fledgling institutions. There is just a lot of ad hoc stuff that you must do, and there is no precedence for what you may be trying to do. You can’t expect someone to come in and put in every conceivable process; it doesn’t work that way.  In new institutions, in my experience, you have to ‘wing it’, you have to improvise and much more importantly, you have to run it on enthusiasm more than on processes.  If the enthusiasm isn’t there at the beginning, people will just feel so fearful of their small numbers and the huge task ahead that they will slowly withdraw. So, you have to pump up a lot of enthusiasm in people; processes emerge in due course. This is why good leadership with relevant experience is important.

STEP: So, then, how can SSE make sure that it remains a strong institution without the kind of leadership you described?

AA: I think they have to become largely leader-independent. The faculty at LUMS is, on the whole, very sensible and mature. Their collective wisdom has to drive the institution, pretty much independent of who is at the top.  For example, if anyone sees a little conflagration coming up, it should be everybody’s business at LUMS to diffuse it.  That’s the only way to survive and I think there is some of that sense of ownership now developing. I think SSE’s Computer Science group, being large and having survived some adversities in the past, can point the way and say to the newly formed groups, ‘look, these little disputes or fears’ — and, by the way, all fighting within universities is over the most trivial of things  –  ‘have no basis and let’s remain focused on our bigger agenda’.

It takes a certain maturity and I worked pretty hard with the faculty to try to make them feel that as a group, as a collective decision-making body, they are very strong and that they can draw upon the traditions of LUMS — of resilience, improvement and excellence – and march on. I said to the faculty: name me the last three presidents of, say, Harvard University or some other famous university?  You won’t know them because they are in the background; what’s in the forefront is the faculty. I think they understand pretty well the need for this communal sense and shared responsibility. 

You see, Pakistani institutions are very fragile. Whether it’s a hospital or a charitable organization, they can fall apart when the right person walks away or dies or whatever.  Everything just hangs on a thread. We have to get beyond this; I mean, will the Edhi trust survive Edhi?

It shouldn’t be like that. Pakistan should take pride in its good institutions. People should say: here is an institution worth saving and we want it to get better next year, not worse. Those inside the institution should commit themselves; those outside it, the same. Parents should say, we want LUMS to get better regardless of who is it at the top, or whether its funds run out, because SSE is giving our children an opportunity we didn’t imagine was possible in Pakistan. People should say, look, of all the places in Pakistan doing science and engineering teaching and research, you guys are doing an excellent job, you must continue to do that; we are counting on it! That’s the kind of sentiment it takes to sustain an institution like the SSE.  But we have to be a little more mature as a society and understand that that’s how countries preserve their institutions. It takes a lot to keep these valuable things going.

STEP: But, a few years ago, a number of faculty members (around five) left LUMS. Do you feel that it has happened for the last time?

AA: I do not know all details, but I do have some idea of the problems that caused the departure. Basically, it was problems festering that were not tended to in time. When problems fester, they just get messier and messier. That is when leaders should step in and defuse the crises. But, I think these are inevitable growing pains in a Pakistani institution.

The important thing is that it should never happen again … because once is enough. This is why when I was at LUMS I told everybody to look at the mistakes of the past and pledge not to let them happen again… for the sake of the institution.  I very much hope that it was the last mass departure, because if the institution starts to hemorrhage its faculty, even if it loses just one or two people, things can unravel very quickly. And, that’s what I think everyone has to be on-guard for.

STEP: Final question on this topic of SSE: what is your advice to the people at LUMS?

AA: My message to the faculty at SSE is: you are the force, you are the institution. You are experienced, you are teaching at a world class university, you are doing great research in Pakistan, you just need to pull together and say, this is our institution, this is what we are fighting for and this is what we are building it for. You are the one who define this institution, and you will continue to bring fame to it. You are at the front-line, delivering a powerful tool (or, should I say, weapon) to the best of Pakistani youth to build a better future: a high quality, liberalizing, deep, higher education.

In part two of our conversation with Dr. Abidi, we talk about funding for higher education — can the current levels be sustained and why the industry is not investing more — and what Pakistanis abroad can do to help. So, stay tuned!

STEP: Till now, mostly you were funding projects in the academia. Would you be looking at funding projects that are directly initiated by the industry?

QS: We are supposed to fund projects submitted by the industry. Our proposal can be initiated by even an individual. But, being an entity that funds public money, the longevity of the institution to which we are giving money is very important to us. An individual can take the money (from us), work for a little while, and then disappear. What do we do then? Universities don’t disappear. They can provide longevity and credibility to the project. And, it is not (just) longevity for the length of that project but even after that.

We don’t fund projects just for the sake of those projects. We fund projects to create an eco-system as well. You don’t plant a seed on a land that may be abandoned or may  be sold for building a commercial building and the tree will be cut down even before it has a chance to get 5 feet high.  So, when industry comes to us, we say, it may be better for you if you come through a university channel.

That’s not a (strict) condition, however. We have also funded industry proposals directly. Actually, we very clearly say that we are a pre-angel fund. We fund creation of technology. But, we are finding out that the challenge of monitoring them can at times become difficult. A lot of these companies start to take this funding as work-for-contract. They say, ‘oh, you asked us to do these things and we’ve done these things, end of story and we’re done’. When you are trying to create an eco-system, and you’re not even asking for any money back, you want the sort of vision where the entity that gets the money runs with the ball. It doesn’t matter whether it was a 100m dash or a marathon; if you have gas, just keep going.

STEP: You talked about longevity and stability but, in a sense, innovation is counter to that. Fostering innovation may mean saying, ‘okay, here’s a smart guy, he has a really smart idea, let me give him some money to go build something’.

QS: We do exactly that. We just say, please park in a university so that there is some stability. You know, smart guys can be very fickle too. [Laughter] If the smart guy walks out, we get totally stuck. If we were VCs, and it was private money, we could say, okay, we were going to lose ninety percent of the projects anyway. This is one of the ninety percent. Ten percent will take us forward. But, with the public funding and government level accountability, we can be taken to task for funding such projects.

Whereas, if the money goes to a university, and a professor is involved, then if nothing else the professor becomes the archive. If the smart guy moves on to the next smart idea, some student or another entrepreneur could come and take the idea and developed IP forward.

STEP: So, what’s the motivation for industry then to get professors up to speed?

QS: One of the ways I motivate industry to partner with the academia is that I give them the argument that suppose you get  Rs. 15-20 million from us and suppose the solution that you create is a hit, and suddenly your product is bought by General Electric or Microsoft or some consulting company. Now, the buyer says, we want to take your  company to a 300-people development centre. Where are you going to get 300 people from? The idea is that, if an entrepreneur hosts his project in a university and gets a professor and a few students involved, he may not get 300 students by the time the project is completed but at least you would have sown the seed in the university and you will be two years ahead in creating this pipeline. So, a very big positive effect for the industry here is that the human resource developed by universities is in line with industry’s requirements.

STEP: Shouldn’t we make a technology park or an incubator with every university?

QS: That’s exactly what we’re doing. The only difference is that we believe that building a building is not necessary. In several cases, the incubation center of the university is about 3 miles away in a rented house. If the university has space, we compensate the university with rent. If the university does not have space, then the industry-academia joint project rents an office and we pay for electricity, air-conditioning, etc.

STEP: Do you think that the industry that is generating this revenue, which is the telecom industry, has a right to demand back some return for this money? Or, do you think those are two decoupled things?

QS: I think they gain a lot by wealth generation and improvement of standards in the country. If the improvement is more suitable to their goals, it’s even better.  So, as any entity we have to pay attention to our financier. Some of the thematic areas for research and development, for example, the center of excellence for telecom operations, are of interest to the telecom industry. There is also a significant probability that education through ICT will light up their network as a lot of that activity may have to happen through mobile phones.

STEP: The Fund’s vision states that you want to create a knowledge-based economy. Historically, economies have evolved from agriculture-based to post industrial-revolution industrial economies, and then recently to knowledge-based economies. In a sense, we are still largely an agricultural economy. Does it make sense to jump directly from an agricultural economy to a knowledge-based economy?

QS: I think there’s significant leap-frogging that’s happening today, for example, our land line connections are 4 million, and our mobile connections are 60, 70, 90 million depending upon what interpretation you go after. Like I talked about before, one of the key things that I really want to push for is to come up with scalable and sustainable solutions for delivering high quality education by using ICT technologies. That you can do without having to go through the industrial age.

Actually, I think a significant amount of technology management models have to be re-thought. I am not an expert on it, but when I hear statements from people who say that they are experts on technology management and technology transfer, and they go through traditional models, I tell them that tradition has been thrown out by telecommunications.

STEP: When you fund research, who owns the intellectual property (IP) that is produced?

QS: We own the IP. The Fund owns the IP. But, the grantee has an irrevocable and perpetual license to commercialize, further develop, sell, and productize the intellectual property. The only thing is that this license is non-exclusive; that is, the grantee cannot stop another party from using the developed technology. If somebody else wants this technology, we have to give it. But, realistically, our goal is to generate wealth in Pakistan. So, if you have taken the technology forward and created a significant company leveraging the developed technology, we are not going to — at least as long as I am the CEO — actively look for people who can use this software and bring you down. After all, we helped create your organization.

Future of the Fund

STEP: Do you think that the Fund is under some sort of risk or pressure to spend? And, if yes, where does the pressure come from?

QS: Oh yeah, we are very much under the pressure that we are not funding enough. This pressure comes from very well-meaning political managers, and I really mean well-meaning. A bureaucrat at a certain level stops looking at the process we are following and starts looking at key parameters from his macro view. And one of those parameters is the amount of funding that we are being able to disburse while satisfying the quality constraints. Similarly, from (the viewpoint of) political management a key parameter is the impact that we are creating.

STEP: So, is there a chance that the Fund might lose some of its funding and the money channeled somewhere else?

QS: Could be. But, I don’t think that’ll be a good thing to do because, if we were allowed to build buildings and buy equipment for a university, we could spend a billion rupees in six months. We could spend four billion rupees in 6 months.

STEP: What about some of the other directions that the Fund is taking? I know the Fund also has a scholarship program.

QS: Yes, we are funding 4-year scholarships for deserving students of rural area public schools. At this point, there are over a 1000 students in the program who are going through FAST, NUST, GIKI, COMSATS, IIU, and other universities. The students who entered the system in 2006 are becoming seniors now, and at least at FAST, since the first batch was only at FAST, they are at the top of the class.

STEP: What are some of the success stories of the Fund?

QS: One of the success stories that I am really proud of is the open-source software engineering course developed by Dr. Fakhur Lodhi at FAST-NU Lahore. In this course, the instructors select an open-source software, and the students become part of its support network. They have to either add a feature or fix a bug that the entire open-source community linked to that software has to accept.

The course has been a real success, so much so that this year a team from FAST got accepted at Google’s Summer of Code program (which is very competitive). Next year, their goal is that every kid who goes through this course to be accepted at Google.

Then there’s a project at FAST-NU Islamabad where they are working with lady health workers and they have developed the whole interface for neo-natal care. That has actually led to a briefcase-sized device which has equipment to measure temperature and blood-pressure, etc. This device has become so popular that a company that does work for UN and USAID throughout Africa and Asia wants to buy it.

Then, there’s HL7, Health Level 7. It is a standard for transferring medical data between applications. Its latest generation, which is probably version 3, is being developed at NUST in open source and already a lab in Pakistan has adopted it where they are using it to transfer data between their centers in Lahore, Islamabad, and Karachi.

STEP: Are you hoping to get the Pakistani diaspora involved with the Fund?

Yes, absolutely. But a problem that I have at times with the diaspora is that they say ‘I make $150,000 a year, so if I give you my time will you give me a percentage of my salary?’

I go as far as saying, look we will get you a solution developed, and you build a Google on top of it and become a billionaire. We would not ask for a single penny back. But, for now, if you spend time in Pakistan, may be, we can compensate your time in Pakistan at a Pakistani level (but not beyond that).

STEP: Well, we hope that there’s enough good will for people to contribute voluntarily, be it as program managers or reviewers or mentors. Of course, they cannot be compensated based on their US salaries.  Thank you for your time. We hope that our readers will find this conversation just as interesting as we did.

QS: Thank you, for giving me an opportunity to share my thoughts.

Revolutionary, humanist, and scientist, Faheem Hussain embodied the political and social ferment of the late 1960′s. With a Ph.D that he received in 1966 from Imperial College London, he had been well-placed for a solid career anywhere in the world. In a profession where names matter, he had worked under the famous P.T. Mathews in the group headed by the even better known Abdus Salam. After his degree, Faheem spent two years at the University of Chicago. This gave him a chance to work with some of the world’s best physicists, but also brought him into contact with the American anti-Vietnam war movement and a powerful wave of revolutionary Marxist thinking. Even decades later, Faheem would describe himself as an “unreconstructed Marxist”. Participating in the mass anti-war demonstrations at UC had stirred his moral soul; he felt the urge to do more than just physics. Now married to Jane Steinfels, a like-minded soul who he met in Chicago, Faheem decided to return to Pakistan.

Faheem and Jane made an amazing couple. Fully immersed in the outstanding causes of the times, they seemed to have a limitless amount of revolutionary energy. Long before I knew them, they had been protesting against the Pakistan Army’s actions in East Pakistan. As Faheem would recount, this was a lonely fight. Many Marxists in those times, inspired by Mao’s China, chose to understand the issue in geopolitical terms rather than as a popular struggle for independence. Some leftists ended up supporting the army’s mass murder of Bengalis.

With Bangladesh now a reality, things moved on. Bhutto’s rhetoric of socialism and justice for the poor had inspired nascent trade union movements to sprout across Pakistan’s cities. Many, however, quickly turned into organizations for labour control rather than emancipation.

There were genuinely independent ones too, such as the Peoples Labour Federation (PLF), an independent Rawalpindi based trade union that saw through Bhutto’s shallow rhetoric. In the early 1970′s, Faheem and Jane were highly influential in this organization, sometimes providing security and cover to its hunted leadership. Iqbal Bali, who passed away in the middle of this year, would vividly recount those days.

Very soon, I joined the small group of leftwing activists that looked up to this couple for instruction and guidance. We formed study groups operating under the PLF, both for self-education and for spreading the message through small study groups of industrial workers. Some, including myself, branched out further, working in distant villages. Gathering material support for the Baloch nationalists, who were fighting an army rejuvenated by Bhutto, was yet another goal for the group. The dream was to bring about a socialist revolution in Pakistan.

All this crashed to an end with Bhutto’s death by hanging in 1979 and the subsequent consolidation of General Zia-ul-Haq’s coup. Pakistan’s Dark Age had just begun. Although Bhutto’s regime had turned repressive and violent in its last desperate days, it was gentle in comparison with what was to follow. With dissent savagely muzzled, the only option was to operate underground. On 3 November 1981, three of our QAU colleagues and friends were caught, imprisoned, and savaged by the military regime. Jamil Omar, a lecturer in computer science and the “ring leader” – was tortured. Two others – Tariq Ahsan and Mohammed Salim – were also imprisoned and their careers destroyed. Their crime was involvement in the secret publication of “Jamhoori Pakistan”, a 4-page newsletter that demanded return to democracy and the end of army rule. A triumphant Zia-ul-Haq went on Pakistan Television, congratulated the men who had succeeded in arresting the teachers, and pledged to “eliminate the cancer of politics” from Quaid-e-Azam University.

Although Faheem was not directly involved in “Jamhoori Pakistan”, we knew he was being closely watched by the intelligence and could have chosen to hide. Instead, with characteristic fearlessness, he did all that was possible to help locate the abducted teachers, and then to secure their release. Tariq Ahsan wrote to me from Canada that “His solidarity during those long years was an invaluable source of support for our families and friends.”

But the struggle took its toll. By the mid 1980′s, Faheem was in the doldrums. Situated in an academically barren environment, he was able to publish little research of worth. Politically, there was no chance of doing anything significant in the climate of repression. Things had gone downhill in personal terms as well – his marriage with Jane was coming apart. To the great sorrow of their friends, the couple parted ways and Jane returned to America. Encouraged by Faheem, she had written school books on Pakistani history that are still sold and used today. In 1989, Faheem left QAU formally but his involvement in academic and political matters had already dropped off in the year or two before that.

From this low point in his life, Faheem struggled upwards. Initially in Germany, and then elsewhere later, he now concentrated solely upon his profession and was able to learn an impressive amount of new physics.

Professor Abdus Salam, who by now had received a Nobel Prize for his work, invited Faheem to become a permanent member of the theoretical physics group at the International Centre for Theoretical Physics in Italy. Faheem remained there until his retirement in 2004. Getting this position was no mean achievement: theoretical physics is a fiercely competitive and notoriously difficult subject. Faheem was the first Pakistani to publish a research paper in one of its most challenging areas – superstring theory.

With a cheerful and positive disposition, and an abiding concern for the welfare of others, Faheem quickly became popular at the ICTP. His laughter would resonate in the institute’s corridors. With time, he took on administrative responsibilities as well and was instrumental in setting up a “Diploma Programme” that admits students from third world countries for advanced studies in various areas. Now married to Sara, a beautiful and even-tempered Italian woman, he was equally comfortable with Italians and Pakistanis or, for that matter, Indians. To Faheem, a cultural amphibian, differences between nations carried no meaning.

And then came retirement time. What to do? I wrote to Faheem: come back!

He agreed. Finding money was not a problem – Pakistan’s higher education was experiencing a budgetary boom. But his old university, plagued by base rivalries and a contemptuous disdain for learning, refused. Specious arguments were given to prevent one of its own founding members, now one of Pakistan’s most distinguished and active physicists, from being taken on the faculty. Initially at the National Centre for Physics in Islamabad, Faheem was eventually offered a position at the newly established science faculty of LUMS in Lahore.

Faheem’s unpretentious mannerisms and gentleness of spirit ensured that LUMS too was enamored of him. Asad Naqvi, one of Pakistan’s leading physicists and a faculty member at LUMS, wrote to me upon hearing of Faheem’s death: “I am lost after hearing this. I only knew him for about 5 years, and in that short time, I had grown really fond of him. We are all poorer today, having lost such a lovely person who touched us so deeply.”

Surely, there shall be many other such tributes from Faheem’s many friends. But, to be true to him as well as my own self, I must admit that in later years we did disagree on some important things – “unreconstructed Marxism” to me is an anachronism, a relic of the 1960′s and still earlier, meaningless in a world that has become far more complex than Marx could have possibly imagined. Nor can I reflexively support today’s so-called “anti-imperialism” of the left that ends up supporting the forces of regressive fundamentalism. But let these issues stand wherever they do.

Why is it necessary for friends to agree upon everything?

From atoms to atoms – death is inevitable, the final victory of entropy over order. Meaningless? No! To have lived a full life, to have experienced its richness, to have struggled not just for one-self but for others as well, and to have earned the respect and love of those around you. That is a life worth living for. Faheem, my friend, you are gone. May you now rest in peace, with a job well done.

Her first stop was at a local public primary school for boys in Kot Nawaz, where grades 1 to 5 were being taught. Due to the lack of funding, the school did not have an actual building. Trees served as classrooms and rugs as chairs for approximately 60 boys enrolled in the school.

	An English class being held as the teacher manages multiple classes at the same time. The younger children assemble in their class with the usual chaos that accompanies 5 year old kids.
	The kids clamor to have their picture taken as class is dismissed.
	As the children leave their class the primitiveness of their classroom comes into stark focus.

Her next stop was the Government Girls’ Primary School, Jhugian Chur, where again classes 1 to 5 were being taught. This school did have a proper building, but it only had two rooms which were used to teach five different classes. At the time of visit, a joint Urdu class was being held for two different grades where the level of education was constrained by the level of younger students (from lower grades).

	Government Girls’ Primary School, Jhugian Chur.
	A class in session. The girls are trying to get through their lesson even though most of them are distracted by the visitors.
	A joint Urdu class being held for the different grades resulting in all the children being taught the same rudimentary level of language. The sole teacher does not live in Jhugian Chur herself and takes a half an hour rickshaw ride everyday to get to school.

While the pictures merely provide a window to what is common scenery in most of the rural and suburban areas in Pakistan, they also serve as a stark reminder to the ground realities of the educational system in the country and to how far we have yet to progress in this area. With an estimated population of 174 million, Pakistan is a country rich in labor force. However, it often falls victim to its populace looking up to the government and developed nations for the solutions to its problems, even for those where innovation or (in many cases) will and hard work alone can go a long way. This is especially true in the area of literacy and basic education. Make no mistake, government’s lack of funding and oversight is the root cause for the deteriorating infrastructure of the public education system. However, as members of the community, our ruing this fact alone and taking solace in placing the blame on the right entity is not going to help anyone. Where most, who witness similar scenes during their daily routines, blame the government and get on with their lives, there are others who have shown that individual efforts can make a huge difference in the education scene of Pakistan.

Nobel Peace Prize nominee Greg Mortenson stumbled into the Pakistani village of Korphe in 1993 after a failed attempt to climb K2 where he witnessed poverty, lack of health care and education system and decided to do something about it. What followed was an amazing story of determination and sacrifice that has since resulted in about 80 schools in some of the most remote areas in Pakistan and Afghanistan providing education to over 24000 children (including about 14000 girls) who previously had little if any education opportunities. He is the director of the non-profit Central Asia Institute (CAI) and is also the founder of Pennies for Peace, an organization that educates American children about the world beyond their experience and shows that they can make a positive impact on a global scale, one penny at a time. His journey has been detailed in his best-selling book, “Three Cups of Tea: One Man’s Mission to Promote Peace… One School at a Time,” and is a must read for all those who want to make an impact in any public sector in Pakistan.

Mortenson’s success is not incidental. There are many other examples in our country where the vision of individuals and application made significant impact on the society. In 2000, a group of students from Ghulam Ishaq Khan Institute (GIKI) noticed stark contrast between their educational facilities and those of the school-going children in Topi, and Project Topi was born. The project aims to create an environment for the children of Topi so that they are motivated enough to think that they can study and succeed. Students of GIKI take time out of their hectic schedule in order to teach local students and provide them with the motivation and aspiration they desperately need. The Citizens Foundation (TCF), a non-profit organization set up in 1995 by a group of citizens concerned with the dismal state of education in Pakistan, has established 600 purpose-built school units nationwide with an enrollment of 80,000 students. Developments in Literacy (DIL), another nonprofit by Pakistani-Americans, establishes, adopts and manages primary and secondary schools for underprivileged children in partnership with non-governmental organizations in all four provinces of Pakistan. DIL currently operates and manages 150 schools with an enrollment of nearly 15,000 students. READ Foundation, one of the largest educational NGOs of rural Pakistan, caters to around 60,000 students through 330 READ institutions, largely in the areas of Azad Kashmir and western NWFP.

Sana Fatima herself is a member of the projects team of LUMS Community Service (LCS). LCS is involved in coordinating and carrying out various charity campaigns and events. LCS website features this beautiful quote from Helen Keller that encapsulates the spirit of this article:

“I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; I will not refuse to do the something I can do.” – Helen Keller

Editor’s Note: STEP envisions playing an active role in bringing together different societies working to achieve a common goal, i.e., promoting science, technology and education in Pakistan. The website will provide a common platform to feature key projects in this area, developing relationships, and collaboration between these groups as well as individuals with a vision. If you know an individual or an organization that is doing good work in this area or if you have innovative ideas for improvement, we would love to hear from you.