We know why Shakespeare’s Juliet would not let her lover Romeo swear “by yonder blessed moon”. She cried: “O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, / That monthly changes in her circled orb / Lest that thy love prove likewise variable”.
Our distinguished religious scholars of the Ruet-e-Hilal Committee, with the help and assistance of the entire administration, seem to have a similar vacillating attitude towards the new Shawal moon. Year after year after year, they seem unable to decide the definite appearance of this moon in the sky and keep the nation from celebrating two or even three Eids.
And so it was this year, with some additional predicaments. Indeed, the decision seemed to have been forced by Frontier’s Senior Minister Bashir Bilour, who announced that Eid would be celebrated in the province on Wednesday even when the Ruet-e-Hilal decision was pending rather late on Tuesday evening. The Central Ruet-e-Hilal Committee, then, made up its mind just before 11 pm.
Writing about this moon-sighting confusion would, of course, be a ritualistic exercise because we could have taken it for granted. But isn’t this something to think about? Confusion, it appears, has become our way of life. This moon business goes back to the days of Ayub Khan and I can recall Syed Mohammad Jafri’s humorous poem on two Eids. But this is no longer funny. That we feel content to live with it is the real issue.
I wonder if this attitude, this tolerance of something that seems patently irrational, is so ingrained in our minds that our ability to deal with socio-political and national security crises has also been undermined. We do not demand decisive action on major issues and continue to prevaricate. We generally tend to play both sides.
Playing both sides is what our government has been accused of by some American critics in the specific context of the war against terrorism. But this war that our security forces are now fighting in the tribal belt, particular in Bajaur, has become serious and it is not about to end. In this gloom of war, we again feel very confused about what it actually means and whether it is our war, after all.
In a sense, this debate about whether this war against terror is America’s war or Pakistan’s battle for survival is a reflection of the abiding polarisation between modern-liberal and radical Islamist sentiments. Somehow, the overall thrust of the culture of the tribal areas is not in harmony with the demand for progressive social change. Hence the ignominy of the bombing of girls’ schools in such places as Swat.
Meanwhile, tensions are mounting in every sector. There is confusion not only about who is fighting whose war but also on issues that have to be tackled on a priority basis. One thing, however, is certain, The sense of insecurity in the country is rising. We have not yet recovered from the shock of the Marriott bomb blast two weeks ago. In fact, its reverberations continue as it was only on Thursday that the United Nations decided that the spouses and families of its staff in Pakistan should leave the country and be relocated for an interim period. A similar decision was taken by the British High Commission.
Even the Eid holidays were not without an incident of terrorism. On Thursday, the second day of the official Eid, a very serious attempt was made to assassinate ANP chief Asfandyar Wali but he survived the Charsadda suicide blast. It was still a very disturbing attack and another indication of the reach of the terrorists. It is instructive that Asfandyar was shifted to Islamabad for security reasons.
With all this focus on the war against terrorism and the disruptions that this war has caused, the economic crisis has somewhat receded into the background. But this still remains the most difficult challenge for the new government, though it should no longer be considered so new. Unfortunately, the pace at which the government is taking its decisions is very slow. Again, we sense confusion about what they want to do. The federal cabinet remains unfinished and there is hardly any sense of urgency about moving forward, in whichever direction.
The Pakistan Army, though, has taken the initiative and its operations are likely to produce a long-term impact on the state of affairs in the tribal areas. In a report datelined Peshawar, the New York Times said on Friday: “After years of relative passivity, the army is now engaged in heavy fighting with the militants on at least three fronts”. The title of the report: “Confronting Taliban, Pakistan finds itself at war”.
One important dimension of this war, apart from the displacement of about 250, 000 people, is the involvement of lashkars that are willing to take up arms against the Taliban. Perhaps this indicates a shift in the alliances that are being made in the tribal areas. But the impact of the war is to be felt throughout the country. There has been this fear that the Taliban may also have infiltrated the congested Pakhtun settlements of Karachi.
In a larger context, our minds are also preoccupied with the economic crisis of the United States and about the focus on Pakistan in the political campaign of the presidential elections now just one month away. Irrespective of our ambivalent feelings about the United States, our linkages with the sole superpower of the world are deep and we may feel the shock of its economic meltdown.
Indeed, there is this debate about how the status of the United States as the only superpower may be threatened. According to John Gray, a former professor of the London School of Economics, this is “a historic geopolitical shift in which the balance of power in the world is being altered irrevocably”.
Well, if the balance of power does shift, how would it impact Pakistan? On the face of it, we do not seem to have the intellectual resources to worry about these things. In many ways, we remain engrossed in matters of the moment, be that the sighting of the moon. But our ability to comprehend the global developments and adjust our vision and our priorities in accordance with the new realities remains restricted. We are bogged down in a locale that seems so far away from the modern world.
And yet, we are at war. We are fighting this war for our survival. It is another matter that we are also very confused about all this. I am reminded of the concluding lines of Matthew Arnold’s ‘Dover Beach’: “And we are here as on a darkling plain / Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, / Where ignorant armies clash by night”.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Our defences against insanity
Writing this column, week after week, is verily a disconcerting exercise. One is constrained to keep chewing the cud because the overall situation remains grim and threatening. Yes, there are always new pegs on which I can hang my thoughts. I do get some respite when I have an occasion to travel abroad. Yet, on the domestic front every major development is plugged into the continuing war against terrorism and the terrorists’ war against Pakistan. The more you think about this conflict, the more you wonder if there is any silver lining on the horizon. And suicide bomb blasts are never in short supply.
Obviously, the picture that is painted in the print and the electronic media is clouded with gloom. This gloom is overwhelmingly reflected in your daily encounters with friends and relatives. In recent days, this darkness has deepened with the global economic meltdown and it becomes a larger concern in the middle class because many of the bright and the beautiful of this class have emigrated to the realm of the free market.
Against this backdrop, I had some difficult thoughts to think about media’s role in mental health awareness and advocacy. Of course, Friday was observed worldwide as the mental health day and we had a number of seminars to mark the day in a rather ritualistic manner. After all, the calendar is strewn with such occasions and every subject has a perfunctory dimension of looking at the role of the media in that specific context.
Anyhow, I participated in a panel discussion at the seminar held at the Aga Khan University and remained unsure about the media’s role in improving the mental health situation. One disturbing thought was whether the media, if it were to do its duty meaningfully, would not aggravate the situation in terms of generating more anxiety and depression among the people. Even though our television channels, though unduly afflicted with the breaking news syndrome, have done a great job of portraying the lives of the poor and the depressed, the reality of our existence, in all its clinical details, remains camouflaged.
Before our panel discussion, an AKU psychiatrist made a brief presentation on the current mental health situation in Pakistan. We do realise that the situation is very depressing. But the facts that emerged in the presentation were truly horrifying. It is the same, yes, in other sectors. Still, the health scene, taken in its entirety, is such that its knowledge can make a healthy mind sick. Is this the reason that the rulers resort to the defence mechanism of not looking at it? Are we not in denial because we do not know what can be done to change all this?
I always find it interesting to confront popularly held views about the media. Irrespective of how rational or irrational these views are, it is also difficult to defend the media in its institutional functioning. This surely is not the time to deliberate on this complex issue. However, it becomes hard to contend with antagonistic attitudes that are prevalent in our society. It is established that a certain percentage of people are afflicted with mental disorders in every society. In our case, the fact that the society is in a state of disequilibrium is a matter of additional concern.
Having said all this, I do recognise the need for providing some hope and cheer to the aggrieved populace and though the rulers have a larger role to play in this context, the media could also make a large contribution in this enterprise. So far as medical treatment for mental health patients is concerned, our deprivations seem insurmountable. A recent WHO report said that three in four mental patients in developing countries receive no treatment. It could be worse in Pakistan, considering its position in any index that relates to human development.
In spite of all this, we can recall the time not too long ago when the morale of the people was high and they could breathe hope in the air. Yes, I am alluding to the lawyers’ movement for the restoration of judiciary sacked on November 3, 2007 – the first anniversary of which is about three weeks away. The role that the media played in that movement was also a great assertion of its power and ability to promote the cause of morality and rule of law.
That mood – though May 12, 2007 was a sinful demonstration of how the aspirations of the people can be subverted with the use of brute power – somehow sustained during the political campaign for the elections. We should also try and understand the impact of the brutal assassination of Benazir Bhutto in December. It was an act of terror and changed the entire dynamics of our politics. However, the outcome of the February 18 elections served as an antidepressant for the nation and the repeated promises for the restoration of the judiciary, made in solemn agreements, sustained our hopes that a new beginning was possible.
Come to think of it, the betrayal of that promise has effectively derailed that process that had injected a tranquillizing element in the national psyche and what we have now is the depressing realisation that our rulers are not committed to high ideals of morality and integrity and trust. If this looks like a diversion, my point really is the paucity of social virtues in our system. Add to this the rise in terrorism and the apparent lack of a sense of direction about how to deal with it. Our very, very poor governance exacerbates every malady. Consequently, fear and anxiety and depression have worsened our mental health situation. Just think of the poor, ordinary people who find it so hard to just survive.
So, how can we cheer ourselves up and retain some hope in our distressed lives? It was noted at the seminar that mental health does not only mean absence of mental disorders but a sense be wellbeing in which individuals can realise their potential and lead productive lives. That means that we should build social capital and an intellectual infrastructure to be able to understand our problems.
This is a struggle that demands the involvement of all concerned citizens. Social activism, then, is one palliative that may reduce our pain and anguish. We need to regenerate hope at the collective level. Perhaps the anniversary of the sacking of the judiciary by a military dictator can be a good occasion to renew that sense of involvement in a collective endeavour.
Unfortunately, the overall situation has prompted most of us to seek individual solutions for collective problems, manifested by private guards, private schools and private clinics. But, ultimately, there is no escape from the reality of our collective existence.
Obviously, the picture that is painted in the print and the electronic media is clouded with gloom. This gloom is overwhelmingly reflected in your daily encounters with friends and relatives. In recent days, this darkness has deepened with the global economic meltdown and it becomes a larger concern in the middle class because many of the bright and the beautiful of this class have emigrated to the realm of the free market.
Against this backdrop, I had some difficult thoughts to think about media’s role in mental health awareness and advocacy. Of course, Friday was observed worldwide as the mental health day and we had a number of seminars to mark the day in a rather ritualistic manner. After all, the calendar is strewn with such occasions and every subject has a perfunctory dimension of looking at the role of the media in that specific context.
Anyhow, I participated in a panel discussion at the seminar held at the Aga Khan University and remained unsure about the media’s role in improving the mental health situation. One disturbing thought was whether the media, if it were to do its duty meaningfully, would not aggravate the situation in terms of generating more anxiety and depression among the people. Even though our television channels, though unduly afflicted with the breaking news syndrome, have done a great job of portraying the lives of the poor and the depressed, the reality of our existence, in all its clinical details, remains camouflaged.
Before our panel discussion, an AKU psychiatrist made a brief presentation on the current mental health situation in Pakistan. We do realise that the situation is very depressing. But the facts that emerged in the presentation were truly horrifying. It is the same, yes, in other sectors. Still, the health scene, taken in its entirety, is such that its knowledge can make a healthy mind sick. Is this the reason that the rulers resort to the defence mechanism of not looking at it? Are we not in denial because we do not know what can be done to change all this?
I always find it interesting to confront popularly held views about the media. Irrespective of how rational or irrational these views are, it is also difficult to defend the media in its institutional functioning. This surely is not the time to deliberate on this complex issue. However, it becomes hard to contend with antagonistic attitudes that are prevalent in our society. It is established that a certain percentage of people are afflicted with mental disorders in every society. In our case, the fact that the society is in a state of disequilibrium is a matter of additional concern.
Having said all this, I do recognise the need for providing some hope and cheer to the aggrieved populace and though the rulers have a larger role to play in this context, the media could also make a large contribution in this enterprise. So far as medical treatment for mental health patients is concerned, our deprivations seem insurmountable. A recent WHO report said that three in four mental patients in developing countries receive no treatment. It could be worse in Pakistan, considering its position in any index that relates to human development.
In spite of all this, we can recall the time not too long ago when the morale of the people was high and they could breathe hope in the air. Yes, I am alluding to the lawyers’ movement for the restoration of judiciary sacked on November 3, 2007 – the first anniversary of which is about three weeks away. The role that the media played in that movement was also a great assertion of its power and ability to promote the cause of morality and rule of law.
That mood – though May 12, 2007 was a sinful demonstration of how the aspirations of the people can be subverted with the use of brute power – somehow sustained during the political campaign for the elections. We should also try and understand the impact of the brutal assassination of Benazir Bhutto in December. It was an act of terror and changed the entire dynamics of our politics. However, the outcome of the February 18 elections served as an antidepressant for the nation and the repeated promises for the restoration of the judiciary, made in solemn agreements, sustained our hopes that a new beginning was possible.
Come to think of it, the betrayal of that promise has effectively derailed that process that had injected a tranquillizing element in the national psyche and what we have now is the depressing realisation that our rulers are not committed to high ideals of morality and integrity and trust. If this looks like a diversion, my point really is the paucity of social virtues in our system. Add to this the rise in terrorism and the apparent lack of a sense of direction about how to deal with it. Our very, very poor governance exacerbates every malady. Consequently, fear and anxiety and depression have worsened our mental health situation. Just think of the poor, ordinary people who find it so hard to just survive.
So, how can we cheer ourselves up and retain some hope in our distressed lives? It was noted at the seminar that mental health does not only mean absence of mental disorders but a sense be wellbeing in which individuals can realise their potential and lead productive lives. That means that we should build social capital and an intellectual infrastructure to be able to understand our problems.
This is a struggle that demands the involvement of all concerned citizens. Social activism, then, is one palliative that may reduce our pain and anguish. We need to regenerate hope at the collective level. Perhaps the anniversary of the sacking of the judiciary by a military dictator can be a good occasion to renew that sense of involvement in a collective endeavour.
Unfortunately, the overall situation has prompted most of us to seek individual solutions for collective problems, manifested by private guards, private schools and private clinics. But, ultimately, there is no escape from the reality of our collective existence.
Battles we’ve lost on our campuses
There was a time when we tended to be self-righteously offended by any shockingly negative assessment of Pakistan. We looked at those assessments as biased or conspiratorial. Gradually, though, damning indictments of what we have made of our country are becoming hard to challenge in the face of a reality that is too glaring to disregard. Now, we have a fair supply of apocalyptic scenarios that are totally home-grown. Any one headline, whether it relates to the ‘war on terror’, the foreign currency market or the cost of living, can push us into a state of depression.
In these circumstances, not much notice was taken of a despatch from Washington, published on Thursday, that portrays Pakistan being “on the edge”. And this is the assessment of 16 US intelligence agencies including the CIA and the FBI. This observation is part of the National Intelligence Estimate (NIE) to be presented to the US administration and lawmakers later this month and the McClatchy newspapers have revealed the contents of the NIE draft.
Anyhow, US intelligence officials who have prepared the NIE have said that increased violence, massive energy and food shortages and political instability threaten to destabilise Pakistan. The draft describes the situation in America’s key ally in the ‘war on terror’ as “very bad” and “very bleak”. There is considerable focus, of course, on the “intensifying” Islamist insurgency in FATA.
Ah, but this NIE assessment is not the focus of this column. I have only referred to it to highlight the perspective in which we need to comprehend our present state of affairs and try to make some sense of the main causes of our apparent loss of a sense of direction. In fact, more appropriate would be a reference to the Global Competitive Report 2008-2009 of the World Economic Forum, released this week.
What does this report say? Well, it puts Pakistan at 101 out of 134 global economies in terms of competitiveness. The rankings have been calculated from both publicly available data and the Executive Opinion Survey conducted annually by the World Economic Forum. India, in this table, stands at 50. Sri Lanka is well ahead of us, at number 77. But Bangladesh is left behind, at 111. Fortunately, we are not at the very bottom because there are so many African countries in the list – and Chad is at 134.
What I particularly noticed is that Pakistan fares even worse – it is 123rd – in the specific category of higher education and training. Since this report takes into account the latest situation, one wonders what the great hullabaloo about revolutionising the higher education by the Musharraf regime has finally yielded. Obviously, our competitiveness in any area should have a lot to do with the quality of the manpower produced by our institutions of higher learning.
We do have a few – four or five, perhaps – centres of excellence but in the sixth largest country of the world in terms of population, the state of the public universities is really pathetic. It is this shortcoming that I sometimes think is the most eloquent expression of our intellectual and cultural deprivations. Indeed, it is astonishing that our universities have not made any significant contribution to the generation of new ideas and promotion of creativity when campuses are universally regarded as nurseries for invention and enterprise.
But let us look at the consequence of the massive investment in higher education during the past eight years. This reminds me of a Rauf Klasra report published in this newspaper on Tuesday. Its intro: “Former minister Ishaq Khan Khakwani on Monday blasted the outgoing chairman Higher Education Commission, Dr Attaur Rahman, for what he termed the massive misuse of billions of rupees during his eight years in office”. There was also a demand for a special audit of the HEC accounts.
Now, I am not concerned here with any alleged financial irregularities. The point simply is that billions were at the disposal of HEC. Khakwani mentioned the surprisingly high figure of Rs26 billion. There must surely have been plans and promises and a certain strategy to raise the standards of education and the quality of human material coming out of the universities. Possibly, there may have been some gains.
Still, the overall impact should have manifested itself by now. The tragedy here is that in almost all sectors, we grieve for paucity of funds and there is always this argument about what percentage of the GNP is allocated for health or education. However, here is more evidence that financial resources alone, though always in short supply, do not always bear fruit.
One excuse may be that it is too early to make a final judgment about Dr Rahman’s or HEC’s performance. This should be untenable because eight years is a long time. With proper effort, initiative and will, the world can change in less time. Our successive governments have been unable to provide mass literacy when socialist countries like Cuba were able to achieve this goal in just a few years. Besides, it can be argued that primary education is more important than higher education, particularly in respect of the government’s basic responsibilities.
We have the example of such Far Eastern countries as South Korea that invested heavily in primary education, particularly in education of girls, in their times of trouble. Everything else could later fall into place. Incidentally, one reason why the war against religious militancy is our war is that the Taliban are bombing girls’ school in Swat and they have already destroyed more than 140 schools.
Our rulers, alas, do not seem to be concerned about these things. But this is evidently a suicidal approach. That famous quotation that “the battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton” is profound in its message. Ultimately, the quality of human beings that our educational system produces will determine our place in the world. Education, certainly, should be taken in its wider sense, including the character and social virtues of our graduates.
And this brings me back to the issue I had raised at the outset. We must be mindful of the rankings we are assigned in the area of social and human development. I will need to write another column to illustrate the environment we have on our campuses. You should have read a number of news stories about violence on our campuses, the latest incidents being reported from Quetta. Every now and then, one meets a degree-holder from a major university who is not worthy of even a school-leaving certificate. It is really very, very depressing. Can we also borrow, from the United States or China, some social and intellectual capital to be able to survive as a nation?
In these circumstances, not much notice was taken of a despatch from Washington, published on Thursday, that portrays Pakistan being “on the edge”. And this is the assessment of 16 US intelligence agencies including the CIA and the FBI. This observation is part of the National Intelligence Estimate (NIE) to be presented to the US administration and lawmakers later this month and the McClatchy newspapers have revealed the contents of the NIE draft.
Anyhow, US intelligence officials who have prepared the NIE have said that increased violence, massive energy and food shortages and political instability threaten to destabilise Pakistan. The draft describes the situation in America’s key ally in the ‘war on terror’ as “very bad” and “very bleak”. There is considerable focus, of course, on the “intensifying” Islamist insurgency in FATA.
Ah, but this NIE assessment is not the focus of this column. I have only referred to it to highlight the perspective in which we need to comprehend our present state of affairs and try to make some sense of the main causes of our apparent loss of a sense of direction. In fact, more appropriate would be a reference to the Global Competitive Report 2008-2009 of the World Economic Forum, released this week.
What does this report say? Well, it puts Pakistan at 101 out of 134 global economies in terms of competitiveness. The rankings have been calculated from both publicly available data and the Executive Opinion Survey conducted annually by the World Economic Forum. India, in this table, stands at 50. Sri Lanka is well ahead of us, at number 77. But Bangladesh is left behind, at 111. Fortunately, we are not at the very bottom because there are so many African countries in the list – and Chad is at 134.
What I particularly noticed is that Pakistan fares even worse – it is 123rd – in the specific category of higher education and training. Since this report takes into account the latest situation, one wonders what the great hullabaloo about revolutionising the higher education by the Musharraf regime has finally yielded. Obviously, our competitiveness in any area should have a lot to do with the quality of the manpower produced by our institutions of higher learning.
We do have a few – four or five, perhaps – centres of excellence but in the sixth largest country of the world in terms of population, the state of the public universities is really pathetic. It is this shortcoming that I sometimes think is the most eloquent expression of our intellectual and cultural deprivations. Indeed, it is astonishing that our universities have not made any significant contribution to the generation of new ideas and promotion of creativity when campuses are universally regarded as nurseries for invention and enterprise.
But let us look at the consequence of the massive investment in higher education during the past eight years. This reminds me of a Rauf Klasra report published in this newspaper on Tuesday. Its intro: “Former minister Ishaq Khan Khakwani on Monday blasted the outgoing chairman Higher Education Commission, Dr Attaur Rahman, for what he termed the massive misuse of billions of rupees during his eight years in office”. There was also a demand for a special audit of the HEC accounts.
Now, I am not concerned here with any alleged financial irregularities. The point simply is that billions were at the disposal of HEC. Khakwani mentioned the surprisingly high figure of Rs26 billion. There must surely have been plans and promises and a certain strategy to raise the standards of education and the quality of human material coming out of the universities. Possibly, there may have been some gains.
Still, the overall impact should have manifested itself by now. The tragedy here is that in almost all sectors, we grieve for paucity of funds and there is always this argument about what percentage of the GNP is allocated for health or education. However, here is more evidence that financial resources alone, though always in short supply, do not always bear fruit.
One excuse may be that it is too early to make a final judgment about Dr Rahman’s or HEC’s performance. This should be untenable because eight years is a long time. With proper effort, initiative and will, the world can change in less time. Our successive governments have been unable to provide mass literacy when socialist countries like Cuba were able to achieve this goal in just a few years. Besides, it can be argued that primary education is more important than higher education, particularly in respect of the government’s basic responsibilities.
We have the example of such Far Eastern countries as South Korea that invested heavily in primary education, particularly in education of girls, in their times of trouble. Everything else could later fall into place. Incidentally, one reason why the war against religious militancy is our war is that the Taliban are bombing girls’ school in Swat and they have already destroyed more than 140 schools.
Our rulers, alas, do not seem to be concerned about these things. But this is evidently a suicidal approach. That famous quotation that “the battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton” is profound in its message. Ultimately, the quality of human beings that our educational system produces will determine our place in the world. Education, certainly, should be taken in its wider sense, including the character and social virtues of our graduates.
And this brings me back to the issue I had raised at the outset. We must be mindful of the rankings we are assigned in the area of social and human development. I will need to write another column to illustrate the environment we have on our campuses. You should have read a number of news stories about violence on our campuses, the latest incidents being reported from Quetta. Every now and then, one meets a degree-holder from a major university who is not worthy of even a school-leaving certificate. It is really very, very depressing. Can we also borrow, from the United States or China, some social and intellectual capital to be able to survive as a nation?
Our patch of darkness
At a time when the world is illuminated by the miracle of democracy, manifested in the election of an Afro-American as president of the United States of America, we remain imprisoned in our own patch of darkness. And a fresh reminder of this bondage was quite timely. One day before Americans voted for Barack Hussein Obama, the rulers in Pakistan expanded the federal cabinet and appointed, among others, Israrullah Zehri and Mir Hazar Khan Bijarani as ministers.
The contrast in the two unconnected events – one a monumental shift in global history and the other a typical aberration in an unfortunate land of sorrow – is remarkable. “Change we need” was the slogan of Obama’s campaign. “Yes, we can,” was its inspiring refrain. Obama has personified the realisation of a dream that had yet seemed impossible. In its time of troubles, America has been gifted with a charismatic leader who signifies hope in the midst of fear and uncertainty.
In our case, the rulers have effectively extinguished the hope that had heralded their assumption of power. In some ways, the yearning for change has been countered with a partial reassertion of primitive, tribal and feudal values. That is how the presence of someone like Israrullah Zehri in the cabinet becomes symbolic. What is truly incredible is that this choice has been made by the leadership of a party that had initially promised progressive social change and empowerment of the oppressed people of Pakistan.
Zehri, a senator from Balochistan, hit headlines some weeks ago when he defended the honour killing of women in his province. It related to an incident in which three women were reported to have been buried, either alive or after being killed, in the name of honour. Zehri had argued that “these are centuries-old traditions and I will continue to defend them.” Irrespective of how such remarks can be explained, brutal killings of young women who cross boundaries that primitive customs have set for them remain frequent in the domain of the tribal and feudal lords who make it to the federal and provincial legislatures on tickets awarded by our major political parties.
There has been considerable comment this week on the expansion of the cabinet – 40 of them in one go – at a time when the country is in dire straits financially. Zehri’s inclusion has rightly angered our social activists. One does not know if all this criticism can ruffle a few feathers in the corridors of power. Still, it is not possible that at least some stalwarts in the Pakistan People’s Party, with their professed commitment to liberal and progressive values, are not privately troubled by these developments.
The party has a number of women leaders who have struggled for the emancipation of women and against such practices as honour killing. Why are they not able to raise their voice and defend the image that their party has had? This, perhaps, is another tragedy of how party politics has evolved in our present circumstances. It was also sad to see Makhdoom Amin Fahim finally falling in line, though he too belongs to the feudal sphere of the party’s influence.
Now, the choice of Mir Hazar Khan Bijarani, PPP MNA from Jacobabad, as the Minister of Education also deserves attention. It goes to Hamid Mir’s credit that he highlighted the incongruity of this appointment in Geo’s “Capital Talk” on Thursday. It so happens that Bijarani was allegedly involved in a jirga decision to hand over five minor girls to settle an old dispute. This issue, if you remember, was heard last year by Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry and he had ordered Bijarani’s arrest.
Irrespective of the details of that case, and even if we accept Bijarani’s argument that he had been cleared by a lower court, the fact that a feudal leader should be assigned to steer the educational policies of this government is in itself very instructive. Education, we know, is the seed of social change. It has been certified that educating the girls is the most effective and fruitful strategy for modernising a society.
Consider, also, how we are caught in a pincer movement from the religious militants on one side and the tribal and feudal leaders on the other. As a consequence, the majority of women in our country are generally considered less than human. This is a tragedy that our rulers are apparently not able to even comprehend. The irony is that the PPP is the only national party we would expect to make some decisive moves in this respect. Incidentally, a symbiotic relationship between suppression of old customs and the expansion of literacy and education was properly underlined in Thursday’s “Capital Talk.”
I suggest that the PPP should conduct an objective analysis of what its elected members have done in their own constituencies to promote education, social awareness and enforcement of human rights. If the level of corruption in the education departments of Sindh and Balochistan is any measure, the findings of this study should be unbearable for any leader who has a conscience and a sense of responsibility.
With this focus on how our present mode of governance is unmindful of the imperative for social change, I have been distracted from celebrating the phenomenal triumph of Barack Obama. We were lucky to be able to witness this emotionally overpowering event. Let me confess that I was almost in tears when I watched Obama making that acceptance speech in Chicago’s Grant Park in front of hundreds of thousands of his jubilant supporters. It had come after a sleepless night when results from different states built up a scintillating climax.
It should take some time for us to fully absorb the significance and the meaning of the historic transformation that democracy has made possible in America. One point that I want to stress is that in a deep crisis, the task of a leader is to inspire hope. This is only possible when the people from across the national spectrum, particularly the young, are mobilised into social action, to participate in the political process.
Can this irrationally bloated federal cabinet of ours generate hope and confidence in our people? Alas, the state of affairs is so grim that our loss of hope is deepening by the day. Every conversation you make with friends or acquaintances – or even with complete strangers in the bazaar or a restaurant – is infused with deep anxiety and apprehension. On the face of it, the challenges that we face are also an opportunity for our rulers, if only they have the courage to creatively respond to the needs and aspirations of our people. And they can begin with decisive action against primitive, inhuman customs that have suppressed our women.
The contrast in the two unconnected events – one a monumental shift in global history and the other a typical aberration in an unfortunate land of sorrow – is remarkable. “Change we need” was the slogan of Obama’s campaign. “Yes, we can,” was its inspiring refrain. Obama has personified the realisation of a dream that had yet seemed impossible. In its time of troubles, America has been gifted with a charismatic leader who signifies hope in the midst of fear and uncertainty.
In our case, the rulers have effectively extinguished the hope that had heralded their assumption of power. In some ways, the yearning for change has been countered with a partial reassertion of primitive, tribal and feudal values. That is how the presence of someone like Israrullah Zehri in the cabinet becomes symbolic. What is truly incredible is that this choice has been made by the leadership of a party that had initially promised progressive social change and empowerment of the oppressed people of Pakistan.
Zehri, a senator from Balochistan, hit headlines some weeks ago when he defended the honour killing of women in his province. It related to an incident in which three women were reported to have been buried, either alive or after being killed, in the name of honour. Zehri had argued that “these are centuries-old traditions and I will continue to defend them.” Irrespective of how such remarks can be explained, brutal killings of young women who cross boundaries that primitive customs have set for them remain frequent in the domain of the tribal and feudal lords who make it to the federal and provincial legislatures on tickets awarded by our major political parties.
There has been considerable comment this week on the expansion of the cabinet – 40 of them in one go – at a time when the country is in dire straits financially. Zehri’s inclusion has rightly angered our social activists. One does not know if all this criticism can ruffle a few feathers in the corridors of power. Still, it is not possible that at least some stalwarts in the Pakistan People’s Party, with their professed commitment to liberal and progressive values, are not privately troubled by these developments.
The party has a number of women leaders who have struggled for the emancipation of women and against such practices as honour killing. Why are they not able to raise their voice and defend the image that their party has had? This, perhaps, is another tragedy of how party politics has evolved in our present circumstances. It was also sad to see Makhdoom Amin Fahim finally falling in line, though he too belongs to the feudal sphere of the party’s influence.
Now, the choice of Mir Hazar Khan Bijarani, PPP MNA from Jacobabad, as the Minister of Education also deserves attention. It goes to Hamid Mir’s credit that he highlighted the incongruity of this appointment in Geo’s “Capital Talk” on Thursday. It so happens that Bijarani was allegedly involved in a jirga decision to hand over five minor girls to settle an old dispute. This issue, if you remember, was heard last year by Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry and he had ordered Bijarani’s arrest.
Irrespective of the details of that case, and even if we accept Bijarani’s argument that he had been cleared by a lower court, the fact that a feudal leader should be assigned to steer the educational policies of this government is in itself very instructive. Education, we know, is the seed of social change. It has been certified that educating the girls is the most effective and fruitful strategy for modernising a society.
Consider, also, how we are caught in a pincer movement from the religious militants on one side and the tribal and feudal leaders on the other. As a consequence, the majority of women in our country are generally considered less than human. This is a tragedy that our rulers are apparently not able to even comprehend. The irony is that the PPP is the only national party we would expect to make some decisive moves in this respect. Incidentally, a symbiotic relationship between suppression of old customs and the expansion of literacy and education was properly underlined in Thursday’s “Capital Talk.”
I suggest that the PPP should conduct an objective analysis of what its elected members have done in their own constituencies to promote education, social awareness and enforcement of human rights. If the level of corruption in the education departments of Sindh and Balochistan is any measure, the findings of this study should be unbearable for any leader who has a conscience and a sense of responsibility.
With this focus on how our present mode of governance is unmindful of the imperative for social change, I have been distracted from celebrating the phenomenal triumph of Barack Obama. We were lucky to be able to witness this emotionally overpowering event. Let me confess that I was almost in tears when I watched Obama making that acceptance speech in Chicago’s Grant Park in front of hundreds of thousands of his jubilant supporters. It had come after a sleepless night when results from different states built up a scintillating climax.
It should take some time for us to fully absorb the significance and the meaning of the historic transformation that democracy has made possible in America. One point that I want to stress is that in a deep crisis, the task of a leader is to inspire hope. This is only possible when the people from across the national spectrum, particularly the young, are mobilised into social action, to participate in the political process.
Can this irrationally bloated federal cabinet of ours generate hope and confidence in our people? Alas, the state of affairs is so grim that our loss of hope is deepening by the day. Every conversation you make with friends or acquaintances – or even with complete strangers in the bazaar or a restaurant – is infused with deep anxiety and apprehension. On the face of it, the challenges that we face are also an opportunity for our rulers, if only they have the courage to creatively respond to the needs and aspirations of our people. And they can begin with decisive action against primitive, inhuman customs that have suppressed our women.
The importance of being human
One of my refrains, when dealing with relations between Pakistan and India, is that South Asia – the expanse that lies under the shadows of the Himalayas – is jinxed. There is something terrible about how primitive passions can be aroused in this region, the great carnage that attended the birth of two independent countries in 1947 being an exceptional illustration of this dereliction.
At the same time, there have been times when the people of the two countries that dominate South Asia have fondly embraced each other almost like blood brothers. And the rulers, too, have occasionally taken vows of friendship and have expressed their commitment to the imperative of peace, even calling the process as irreversible.
Well, something like the traumatic Mumbai attack more than two weeks ago could definitely subvert all the hopes that had most recently been raised for improved relations between the two countries. Indeed, when we look at our chequered history, we would be amazed by how this journey has been a real roller coaster. It becomes so easy for hostile and jingoistic feelings to overwhelm the lingering, humanistic craving for peace and progress.
In the immediate context, however, Pakistan has come under pressure because of India’s assertion that the terrorists who wrought havoc in Mumbai were citizens of this country. Fortunately, there is general appreciation that the government of Pakistan was not a sponsor of this incredibly audacious act of terrorism. Still, the complexity of how a country that is itself a major victim of terrorism and is also held responsible for not being able to wipe out terrorists from within its territory is compounded by severe economic, social and political difficulties. Heading of the Fareed Zakaria column in the latest issue of Newsweek is: “End of the Line for Islamabad”.
A weak and inefficient political administration is suddenly burdened with dire challenges, including the ones that emanate from UN Security Council’s resolution to ban four militant organisations. A countrywide crackdown was launched on Thursday against Jamaat-ud-Daawa and in addition to the arrest of many of its activists, Daawa chief Hafiz Saeed was put under house arrest. Pakistan must fulfil its international obligations and abide by the ban that, instructively, is this time backed by China.
Incidentally, the UN ban was announced on Wednesday, December 10 – the Human Rights Day. On the same day, of course, Bilawal Bhutto Zardari received the United Nations Award in the Field of Human Rights that was conferred posthumously on his illustrious mother, Benazir Bhutto. Six other international personalities received this award for promoting human rights and fundamental freedoms.
This was the occasion to mark the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights – a document that enshrines the rights and freedoms that the oppressed people of South Asia are still struggling to attain. We know how comprehensive are the rights that are listed in the UN Declaration. And the concept has evolved during the past six decades, with increased emphasis on such ideas as the dignity of human beings, the status of women and the rights of children. We should look at peace and human security as essential prerequisites for the enforcement of fundamental human rights.
In this perspective, the overall deprivations of South Asia mock the wisdom and sagacity of its rulers. We, in Pakistan, lag behind other countries in the region in this context. Our social indicators that are officially tabulated, particularly in the UNDP’s Human Development Index, do not at all match our nuclear status and the strength of our military forces. It is about the same in India, given the obsession that both countries have about the other. But as Pakistanis, we should be more concerned with out own state of affairs.
Surrounded as we seem to be with grave dangers, this may be a good time to think over the wages of our ruling ideas. Would not have we been stronger and more stable as a nation if our people were sufficiently empowered with education, social security and economic development? This question will surely prompt a heated debate on our national sense of direction. And our tragedy is that in public discourse on national security matters and on our relations with India, the liberal – I would say rational – voice remains suppressed.
Because I have had some affiliations with the peace process in South Asia, I can recall occasions when momentum for peace seemed unstoppable. But those interludes, like ‘the days of wine and roses’, were never long. Something would always happen to interrupt the progress that had resulted from prudent and far-sighted initiatives on the part of the political leadership in both countries as well as non-governmental pressures.
Obviously, the potential for animosity and discord is also rooted in our history and there are elements in both countries that have flourished by exploiting these sentiments. That this path has brought us to a dead end is manifest in the present situation, in the wake of the Mumbai tragedy. Hopefully, the realisation that the well-being and even the survival of the multitudes that populate our two nuclear-armed countries depend on peace and prosperity will again assert itself. One only wonders if the possible revival of hope will again be thwarted by dark forces that seem to be afflicted by some kind of a death wish.
We, in Pakistan, have a terrifying crisis on our hands. This crisis has been building up for some time. Bruce Riedel, a CIA veteran who is now an adviser to US president-elect Barack Obama, has reiterated that Pakistan is the most dangerous place in the world, in an interview published in German magazine Der Spiegel on Thursday. In Pakistan, he said, “international terrorism, nuclear proliferation, the threat of nuclear war, drugs, democracy deficit and Islam all come together in an extraordinarily combustible way”.
Hence, what do we need to do to avoid a conflagration, in the face of mounting pressures from different sources? The first thing, perhaps, is to coolly and judiciously review our position in the region and in the world. This should be possible, in spite of the heightened emotions and somewhat chaotic developments. My regret, though, is that our mass media has almost been taken over by right wing, conservative opinions and the liberal and enlightened points of view are pushed into the background.
Arnold Zietlin, a veteran US media professional who reported from Pakistan in early seventies and has numerous friends here, posed this question in an e-mail exchange of views that flowed from his Eid greetings to his friends: “Why has it always been so difficult for progressive thinkers in Pakistan and elsewhere in the Islamic world to make their influence for being part of the modern world felt?”.
At the same time, there have been times when the people of the two countries that dominate South Asia have fondly embraced each other almost like blood brothers. And the rulers, too, have occasionally taken vows of friendship and have expressed their commitment to the imperative of peace, even calling the process as irreversible.
Well, something like the traumatic Mumbai attack more than two weeks ago could definitely subvert all the hopes that had most recently been raised for improved relations between the two countries. Indeed, when we look at our chequered history, we would be amazed by how this journey has been a real roller coaster. It becomes so easy for hostile and jingoistic feelings to overwhelm the lingering, humanistic craving for peace and progress.
In the immediate context, however, Pakistan has come under pressure because of India’s assertion that the terrorists who wrought havoc in Mumbai were citizens of this country. Fortunately, there is general appreciation that the government of Pakistan was not a sponsor of this incredibly audacious act of terrorism. Still, the complexity of how a country that is itself a major victim of terrorism and is also held responsible for not being able to wipe out terrorists from within its territory is compounded by severe economic, social and political difficulties. Heading of the Fareed Zakaria column in the latest issue of Newsweek is: “End of the Line for Islamabad”.
A weak and inefficient political administration is suddenly burdened with dire challenges, including the ones that emanate from UN Security Council’s resolution to ban four militant organisations. A countrywide crackdown was launched on Thursday against Jamaat-ud-Daawa and in addition to the arrest of many of its activists, Daawa chief Hafiz Saeed was put under house arrest. Pakistan must fulfil its international obligations and abide by the ban that, instructively, is this time backed by China.
Incidentally, the UN ban was announced on Wednesday, December 10 – the Human Rights Day. On the same day, of course, Bilawal Bhutto Zardari received the United Nations Award in the Field of Human Rights that was conferred posthumously on his illustrious mother, Benazir Bhutto. Six other international personalities received this award for promoting human rights and fundamental freedoms.
This was the occasion to mark the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights – a document that enshrines the rights and freedoms that the oppressed people of South Asia are still struggling to attain. We know how comprehensive are the rights that are listed in the UN Declaration. And the concept has evolved during the past six decades, with increased emphasis on such ideas as the dignity of human beings, the status of women and the rights of children. We should look at peace and human security as essential prerequisites for the enforcement of fundamental human rights.
In this perspective, the overall deprivations of South Asia mock the wisdom and sagacity of its rulers. We, in Pakistan, lag behind other countries in the region in this context. Our social indicators that are officially tabulated, particularly in the UNDP’s Human Development Index, do not at all match our nuclear status and the strength of our military forces. It is about the same in India, given the obsession that both countries have about the other. But as Pakistanis, we should be more concerned with out own state of affairs.
Surrounded as we seem to be with grave dangers, this may be a good time to think over the wages of our ruling ideas. Would not have we been stronger and more stable as a nation if our people were sufficiently empowered with education, social security and economic development? This question will surely prompt a heated debate on our national sense of direction. And our tragedy is that in public discourse on national security matters and on our relations with India, the liberal – I would say rational – voice remains suppressed.
Because I have had some affiliations with the peace process in South Asia, I can recall occasions when momentum for peace seemed unstoppable. But those interludes, like ‘the days of wine and roses’, were never long. Something would always happen to interrupt the progress that had resulted from prudent and far-sighted initiatives on the part of the political leadership in both countries as well as non-governmental pressures.
Obviously, the potential for animosity and discord is also rooted in our history and there are elements in both countries that have flourished by exploiting these sentiments. That this path has brought us to a dead end is manifest in the present situation, in the wake of the Mumbai tragedy. Hopefully, the realisation that the well-being and even the survival of the multitudes that populate our two nuclear-armed countries depend on peace and prosperity will again assert itself. One only wonders if the possible revival of hope will again be thwarted by dark forces that seem to be afflicted by some kind of a death wish.
We, in Pakistan, have a terrifying crisis on our hands. This crisis has been building up for some time. Bruce Riedel, a CIA veteran who is now an adviser to US president-elect Barack Obama, has reiterated that Pakistan is the most dangerous place in the world, in an interview published in German magazine Der Spiegel on Thursday. In Pakistan, he said, “international terrorism, nuclear proliferation, the threat of nuclear war, drugs, democracy deficit and Islam all come together in an extraordinarily combustible way”.
Hence, what do we need to do to avoid a conflagration, in the face of mounting pressures from different sources? The first thing, perhaps, is to coolly and judiciously review our position in the region and in the world. This should be possible, in spite of the heightened emotions and somewhat chaotic developments. My regret, though, is that our mass media has almost been taken over by right wing, conservative opinions and the liberal and enlightened points of view are pushed into the background.
Arnold Zietlin, a veteran US media professional who reported from Pakistan in early seventies and has numerous friends here, posed this question in an e-mail exchange of views that flowed from his Eid greetings to his friends: “Why has it always been so difficult for progressive thinkers in Pakistan and elsewhere in the Islamic world to make their influence for being part of the modern world felt?”.
Food for thought
Moving around the dinner guests in that relaxed and somewhat dreamy setting, I sensed an underlying current of anxiety and disquiet. Again and again, our conversations drifted towards the fighting in the north. We talked about civilian casualties and displaced persons and how non-combatants are trapped in a military campaign.
Ah, but this was Colombo, earlier this week. We were there as participants in the Asia Pacific Editors’ Roundtable on Inequality and Hunger, sponsored by UNDP and Panos, a media development NGO. And also because of what we had deliberated during the day, our minds were very much preoccupied by the abiding sorrows of this region, with particular reference to our jinxed South Asia.
Sri Lanka, of course, is passing at this time through a critical phase in its history. After a long and bloody civil war, the Sri Lankan forces have prevailed upon the retreating Tamil Tiger rebels. Coincidentally, the two-day roundtable overlapped with the Independence Day ceremonies of Sri Lanka. Rehearsals for the national day parade, held on Wednesday, had started when we arrived in the city.
Since our hotel was close to the site of the parade, our proceedings, held on Monday and Tuesday, were at times drowned in the roar of fighter jets. All around, tanks and armoured vehicles and roadblocks provided a real backdrop of how our poor countries, afflicted with massive human deprivations, tend to locate their glory and pride in their military prowess.
This juxtaposition of the issues of inequality and hunger that we discussed in the conference room and the intimidating presence of the military in our surroundings was, I feel, very instructive. During our very brief stay in Colombo, our activities and our movements were affected by the arrangements made for the national day. Those of us who were flying back on Wednesday afternoon had to be shifted, on Tuesday evening, to a resort hotel on the other side of the airport.
There, I had time to watch the live transmission of the parade. This Independence Day must have been very special for the government, marking the dismantling of the mini-state that the Tigers had established in northern Sri Lanka. In this process, though, about 70,000 lives had been lost since 1972, when the civil strife began. It was the glorification of the soldier that the parade seemed to portray.
Sri Lanka is a beautiful country, with a vast scenic treasure. Its people, when you come in contact with them, are easygoing and peaceable. You don’t feel insecure even on lonely beaches. But this serene place has been home to Asia’s longest running civil war and very vicious acts of terror and violence. Swat comes to mind. The story of our patch of heaven for tourists also tells a dreadful tale. Like law and order, we have also forsaken tourism, as evidenced by the appointment of Maulana Attaur Rehman, brother of Maulana Fazlur Rehman, as federal minister of tourism.
I had only a few hours to while away in Colombo and was able to revive some memories with a cocktail they have named Colombian Sunset, right when the sun was setting in the sea. With me was a prominent Indian journalist and we jointly grieved over the latest downturn in relations between our two potentially irrational countries, distinguished not only by the might and the size of their armies but also by the world’s largest percentage of malnourished children.
Media was the main focus of the Roundtable in the context of how it can increase awareness of hunger and poverty issues. We had some very bright and experienced media professionals and the discussions ranged across the spectrum of media’s role in social change. As an aside, I was really pleased by the appreciation that many participants had for the courage with which Geo had confronted the highhandedness of the previous administration.
I am not intending to summarise the proceedings of the Roundtable in this column, also for lack of space. Usually, such deliberations that I have had the opportunity of attending relate to South Asia. Here, we also had editors from Thailand and Cambodia. We thus had a sense of Asia. Having properly done their homework, the senior UNDP officials set the stage with their presentations that were based on research and official statistics.
And the overall picture, within the frame of inequality and hunger, was obviously quite bleak. That also means that challenges, not just for the media, are formidable. One challenge is to resolve conflicts that are raging in almost all countries of the region –Pakistan and Sri Lanka being in the forefront. Our major resources are diverted to security needs and attention is also diverted from the sufferings of the people. Another major challenge is gender equality and Pakistan may want to keep its record in this area in ‘purdah’. Again, Swat stabs our hearts like a dagger.
The latest issue of ‘Newsweek’ has a write-up on the food crisis. This is how it begins: “Fears over global hunger are back, this time driven by both high food prices and plunging incomes. As the global recession deepens, unemployment is rising, but the price of staple foods is not falling with other commodities, like oil”. It has been noted that this crisis will be severe in developing countries.
Our debate on what the media can do to improve public understanding of these issues was intensive and extensive. We shared discerning views about the power as well as the powerlessness of the media and I sought to invoke the recent Pakistani experience to make my points. This is an issue that calls for a separate analysis. With a little regret, I am also unable to recap some very gratifying personal encounters that took place on the sidelines of the Roundable and that keeps me from mentioning names of a few very accomplished individuals I came in contact with in Colombo.
Two days after I returned from Colombo, on Friday morning, I learnt about the demise of Pakistan’s leading journalist Khalid Hasan in Washington. What a great loss this is may be seen in the context of one point I had made in Colombo. Khalid Hasan was exceptional in his access to both English and Urdu. His translations of Manto introduced the great Urdu short-story writer to an international audience. He wrote brilliant columns, with a literary flourish and I always envied his considerable gifts as a human being and as a journalist. The real tragedy is that I see no one taking his place. His death has underlined my constant lament that we are also intellectually and culturally malnourished. It is this deprivation that is not fully understood in a country that is starved of enlightenment and open-mindedness.
Source : The News
Ah, but this was Colombo, earlier this week. We were there as participants in the Asia Pacific Editors’ Roundtable on Inequality and Hunger, sponsored by UNDP and Panos, a media development NGO. And also because of what we had deliberated during the day, our minds were very much preoccupied by the abiding sorrows of this region, with particular reference to our jinxed South Asia.
Sri Lanka, of course, is passing at this time through a critical phase in its history. After a long and bloody civil war, the Sri Lankan forces have prevailed upon the retreating Tamil Tiger rebels. Coincidentally, the two-day roundtable overlapped with the Independence Day ceremonies of Sri Lanka. Rehearsals for the national day parade, held on Wednesday, had started when we arrived in the city.
Since our hotel was close to the site of the parade, our proceedings, held on Monday and Tuesday, were at times drowned in the roar of fighter jets. All around, tanks and armoured vehicles and roadblocks provided a real backdrop of how our poor countries, afflicted with massive human deprivations, tend to locate their glory and pride in their military prowess.
This juxtaposition of the issues of inequality and hunger that we discussed in the conference room and the intimidating presence of the military in our surroundings was, I feel, very instructive. During our very brief stay in Colombo, our activities and our movements were affected by the arrangements made for the national day. Those of us who were flying back on Wednesday afternoon had to be shifted, on Tuesday evening, to a resort hotel on the other side of the airport.
There, I had time to watch the live transmission of the parade. This Independence Day must have been very special for the government, marking the dismantling of the mini-state that the Tigers had established in northern Sri Lanka. In this process, though, about 70,000 lives had been lost since 1972, when the civil strife began. It was the glorification of the soldier that the parade seemed to portray.
Sri Lanka is a beautiful country, with a vast scenic treasure. Its people, when you come in contact with them, are easygoing and peaceable. You don’t feel insecure even on lonely beaches. But this serene place has been home to Asia’s longest running civil war and very vicious acts of terror and violence. Swat comes to mind. The story of our patch of heaven for tourists also tells a dreadful tale. Like law and order, we have also forsaken tourism, as evidenced by the appointment of Maulana Attaur Rehman, brother of Maulana Fazlur Rehman, as federal minister of tourism.
I had only a few hours to while away in Colombo and was able to revive some memories with a cocktail they have named Colombian Sunset, right when the sun was setting in the sea. With me was a prominent Indian journalist and we jointly grieved over the latest downturn in relations between our two potentially irrational countries, distinguished not only by the might and the size of their armies but also by the world’s largest percentage of malnourished children.
Media was the main focus of the Roundtable in the context of how it can increase awareness of hunger and poverty issues. We had some very bright and experienced media professionals and the discussions ranged across the spectrum of media’s role in social change. As an aside, I was really pleased by the appreciation that many participants had for the courage with which Geo had confronted the highhandedness of the previous administration.
I am not intending to summarise the proceedings of the Roundtable in this column, also for lack of space. Usually, such deliberations that I have had the opportunity of attending relate to South Asia. Here, we also had editors from Thailand and Cambodia. We thus had a sense of Asia. Having properly done their homework, the senior UNDP officials set the stage with their presentations that were based on research and official statistics.
And the overall picture, within the frame of inequality and hunger, was obviously quite bleak. That also means that challenges, not just for the media, are formidable. One challenge is to resolve conflicts that are raging in almost all countries of the region –Pakistan and Sri Lanka being in the forefront. Our major resources are diverted to security needs and attention is also diverted from the sufferings of the people. Another major challenge is gender equality and Pakistan may want to keep its record in this area in ‘purdah’. Again, Swat stabs our hearts like a dagger.
The latest issue of ‘Newsweek’ has a write-up on the food crisis. This is how it begins: “Fears over global hunger are back, this time driven by both high food prices and plunging incomes. As the global recession deepens, unemployment is rising, but the price of staple foods is not falling with other commodities, like oil”. It has been noted that this crisis will be severe in developing countries.
Our debate on what the media can do to improve public understanding of these issues was intensive and extensive. We shared discerning views about the power as well as the powerlessness of the media and I sought to invoke the recent Pakistani experience to make my points. This is an issue that calls for a separate analysis. With a little regret, I am also unable to recap some very gratifying personal encounters that took place on the sidelines of the Roundable and that keeps me from mentioning names of a few very accomplished individuals I came in contact with in Colombo.
Two days after I returned from Colombo, on Friday morning, I learnt about the demise of Pakistan’s leading journalist Khalid Hasan in Washington. What a great loss this is may be seen in the context of one point I had made in Colombo. Khalid Hasan was exceptional in his access to both English and Urdu. His translations of Manto introduced the great Urdu short-story writer to an international audience. He wrote brilliant columns, with a literary flourish and I always envied his considerable gifts as a human being and as a journalist. The real tragedy is that I see no one taking his place. His death has underlined my constant lament that we are also intellectually and culturally malnourished. It is this deprivation that is not fully understood in a country that is starved of enlightenment and open-mindedness.
Source : The News
A Collective Death Wish?
Many of us had seen this coming but the aftermath of the Supreme Court disqualification of the Sharif brothers and the imposition of governor’s rule in Punjab is still too fearful to contemplate with any sense of equanimity. And the pity is that this explosive distraction in our lives has come at a time when there is so much else that this country should earnestly be doing to warrant its well-being and even survival. Do we, collectively, suffer from some kind of a death wish?
Almost one year after the induction of the present government, what really have we achieved in terms of an impact on the lives of the ordinary people? Instead, one great resource that we had at this time one year ago – hope – has not only been thrown away but has been replaced with dark misgivings about the future. There is even an apprehension that the present drift could lead to bloodshed and anarchy.
Our people, already afflicted with numerous deprivations, have now to cope with the awesome emotional burden of extreme uncertainty. One doctrine of necessity in such circumstances is their yearning for some order and peace. In ‘Democracy in America’, Alex de Tocqueville, so long ago, wrote about what happens to a people beset with anxiety: “The taste for public tranquillity then becomes a blind passion, and the citizens are liable to conceive a most inordinate devotion to order”. What this means is very obvious. Swat is also an example, where the government’s apparent surrender is welcomed by the locals for the sake of peace.
If there is hope, people will be willing to wade through any dark patch and suffer hardships. In fact, hope in the future is the seed for change, including revolutionary change. How the hope that the lawyers’ movement had cultivated in our hearts was brutally suppressed is the real tragedy of our present crisis. We had initially expected to gain, as the outcome of a movement that was also a celebration of the freedom of the media and the involvement of the civil society, a shift in our public affairs towards morality and principles.
In that sense, the crisis of Pakistan is not merely political or economic. In its essence, it is moral and social. We need justice and fair play. Politicians anywhere are viewed with some suspicion but they cannot survive without building a measure of trust and credibility in the eyes of the people. We know how any revelation of a serious misdemeanour or wrongdoing on the part of politicians and public officials can destroy their career in any respectable democracy.
Our democracy, in spite of the lessons that we should learn from repeated military interventions, is refusing to grow. Every time an election is held and civilian rule is introduced, there is expectation that a new beginning will be possible. Last year, the stage was set for such a new beginning. But a number of fateful deviations – and our essential lack of freedom – has led us to more of the same in a vicious replay of the nineties.
Hence, look at where we have arrived as the month of March, with its proverbial intimations of disorder, begins. We need not have waited for the ides of March. Incidentally, this reference, with its sense of foreboding, is from Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar”. It would be instructive for us to read it again, if only to understand how the Roman mobs had swayed the events in an ancient time. Ah, but we seem to be still living in ancient times.
Talking about hope, and about trust and morality, will be totally out of place in the midst of developments that have followed the events of Wednesday. If horse-trading – the lota business – has been the most sinful and detestable business in our politics, a high percentage increase in this exercise has been promised by the announcement of President Asif Ali Zardari that the next chief minister of Punjab would be from the Pakistan People’s Party. Where are the numbers, for God’s sake?
At the outset, I said that this upheaval has distracted our attention from some very crucial issues. Our present struggle against religious extremism comes readily to mind. Our need for good governance, something akin to life-saving drugs for a patient lying in intensive care, is critical. Look at how the shuffling of the bureaucratic cards in the provincial administration has played havoc with the simple task of running the administration on a day to day basis. In a larger context, vital sectors like education and health have to be neglected. At the same time that there is this impression of hectic activity on the streets and in the corridors of power, we are in effect standing still.
The US-Pakistan-Afghanistan talks in Washington, constituting a part in the American review of its policy towards this region, have just ended. It was not a good sign for the present political crisis in our country to overlap with these deliberations. We can imagine what picture of Pakistan will have emerged in these talks. Or was this just another footnote in the formulations that have been made about Pakistan being the most dangerous country in the world?
According to published reports, US lawmakers, think-tank experts and officials have warned that Pakistan is on the verge of an economic meltdown and a possible political disintegration. One wonders how Richard Holbrooke’s professorial mind would cope with all this confusion and complexity. The US special envoy for Afghanistan and Pakistan had made his visit to Pakistan prior to the talks in Washington to “listen and learn the ground realities in this critically important country”. He may still have a lot to learn about how we run our country in times of grave emergencies.
It is not easy to predict how this confrontation between the Nawaz League and the Zardari PPP will evolve in the immediate context and how it will conclude. As I said, today is only the first day of March and the Long March of the lawyers is less than two weeks away. Perhaps it was to subvert the lawyers’ protest that Zardari conceived of this grand plan to remove a government that would have supported the lawyers. With the governor’s rule in place, the lawyers would confront an adversary in the main arena of their struggle.
But many things can happen between now and the launching of the Long March. Meanwhile, the entire edifice of justice seems to have crumbled. We have a tragic history of how judgments made in our higher courts, usually in the service of the rulers of the time, have led us into wilderness. Where will the present crisis take us? Unfortunately, we don’t know where we are going.
Almost one year after the induction of the present government, what really have we achieved in terms of an impact on the lives of the ordinary people? Instead, one great resource that we had at this time one year ago – hope – has not only been thrown away but has been replaced with dark misgivings about the future. There is even an apprehension that the present drift could lead to bloodshed and anarchy.
Our people, already afflicted with numerous deprivations, have now to cope with the awesome emotional burden of extreme uncertainty. One doctrine of necessity in such circumstances is their yearning for some order and peace. In ‘Democracy in America’, Alex de Tocqueville, so long ago, wrote about what happens to a people beset with anxiety: “The taste for public tranquillity then becomes a blind passion, and the citizens are liable to conceive a most inordinate devotion to order”. What this means is very obvious. Swat is also an example, where the government’s apparent surrender is welcomed by the locals for the sake of peace.
If there is hope, people will be willing to wade through any dark patch and suffer hardships. In fact, hope in the future is the seed for change, including revolutionary change. How the hope that the lawyers’ movement had cultivated in our hearts was brutally suppressed is the real tragedy of our present crisis. We had initially expected to gain, as the outcome of a movement that was also a celebration of the freedom of the media and the involvement of the civil society, a shift in our public affairs towards morality and principles.
In that sense, the crisis of Pakistan is not merely political or economic. In its essence, it is moral and social. We need justice and fair play. Politicians anywhere are viewed with some suspicion but they cannot survive without building a measure of trust and credibility in the eyes of the people. We know how any revelation of a serious misdemeanour or wrongdoing on the part of politicians and public officials can destroy their career in any respectable democracy.
Our democracy, in spite of the lessons that we should learn from repeated military interventions, is refusing to grow. Every time an election is held and civilian rule is introduced, there is expectation that a new beginning will be possible. Last year, the stage was set for such a new beginning. But a number of fateful deviations – and our essential lack of freedom – has led us to more of the same in a vicious replay of the nineties.
Hence, look at where we have arrived as the month of March, with its proverbial intimations of disorder, begins. We need not have waited for the ides of March. Incidentally, this reference, with its sense of foreboding, is from Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar”. It would be instructive for us to read it again, if only to understand how the Roman mobs had swayed the events in an ancient time. Ah, but we seem to be still living in ancient times.
Talking about hope, and about trust and morality, will be totally out of place in the midst of developments that have followed the events of Wednesday. If horse-trading – the lota business – has been the most sinful and detestable business in our politics, a high percentage increase in this exercise has been promised by the announcement of President Asif Ali Zardari that the next chief minister of Punjab would be from the Pakistan People’s Party. Where are the numbers, for God’s sake?
At the outset, I said that this upheaval has distracted our attention from some very crucial issues. Our present struggle against religious extremism comes readily to mind. Our need for good governance, something akin to life-saving drugs for a patient lying in intensive care, is critical. Look at how the shuffling of the bureaucratic cards in the provincial administration has played havoc with the simple task of running the administration on a day to day basis. In a larger context, vital sectors like education and health have to be neglected. At the same time that there is this impression of hectic activity on the streets and in the corridors of power, we are in effect standing still.
The US-Pakistan-Afghanistan talks in Washington, constituting a part in the American review of its policy towards this region, have just ended. It was not a good sign for the present political crisis in our country to overlap with these deliberations. We can imagine what picture of Pakistan will have emerged in these talks. Or was this just another footnote in the formulations that have been made about Pakistan being the most dangerous country in the world?
According to published reports, US lawmakers, think-tank experts and officials have warned that Pakistan is on the verge of an economic meltdown and a possible political disintegration. One wonders how Richard Holbrooke’s professorial mind would cope with all this confusion and complexity. The US special envoy for Afghanistan and Pakistan had made his visit to Pakistan prior to the talks in Washington to “listen and learn the ground realities in this critically important country”. He may still have a lot to learn about how we run our country in times of grave emergencies.
It is not easy to predict how this confrontation between the Nawaz League and the Zardari PPP will evolve in the immediate context and how it will conclude. As I said, today is only the first day of March and the Long March of the lawyers is less than two weeks away. Perhaps it was to subvert the lawyers’ protest that Zardari conceived of this grand plan to remove a government that would have supported the lawyers. With the governor’s rule in place, the lawyers would confront an adversary in the main arena of their struggle.
But many things can happen between now and the launching of the Long March. Meanwhile, the entire edifice of justice seems to have crumbled. We have a tragic history of how judgments made in our higher courts, usually in the service of the rulers of the time, have led us into wilderness. Where will the present crisis take us? Unfortunately, we don’t know where we are going.
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