Learning to talk about politics

Living in Pakistan, few of us subscribe to the notion that politics and religion are not polite topics for discussion. Politics has dominated much of our lives recently, and with the growing level of polarised debate it is evident that we need to have a conversation about how we have conversations.

As we conduct ourselves in our lives, we are confronted with moments where we may either exercise leadership or allow our biases, known and hidden, to dictate the ways in which we behave. Being faced with an opposing viewpoint often brings out the worst in us; instinctively, many of us defend our political ideals — views that are borne out of emotional attachments, life experiences and hopefully some deliberate thought — with defensive agitation, attributing the worst intentions to those we disagree with, and only seeing the best in our own. This is a problem. While the thought of allowing our ideals to get hurt may seem high stakes now, the alternative option of over-protecting our own beliefs, and failing to challenge them, is far more dangerous in the long term.

If we are to build a healthy democracy, one where everyone is free to share their arguments for what the world should look like, it is imperative that we also learn to listen, patiently, with sincere effort at understanding why other people think the way they do. It is too easy to repeat to someone our own worst understanding of why they believe something. It is more challenging and useful to allow our brains to comprehend, to strive to empathise with the rationale and positioning another may have in coming to their own conclusions.

Most of us have grown up in a time in Pakistan’s history where we have wanted some saving grace; one leader who will get us out of the mess we seem stuck in, promises for change, and more. The fact is that we have never needed someone else to do the work for us, exercising and mobilising discontent in the service of our deepest values has always been on us. We have needed to have the conversations that have occurred over the past few years, putting both government and opposition sides on high alert, knowing that an engaged public is watching them closely.

We have needed free criticism of our leaders, whoever they may be, and protection by the State to have our voices heard. Now, as we embark on yet another historic change, we must reflect on the strengths and weaknesses of the conversations we have been having; from condescending and foul-language targeted at opposing viewpoints on our media channels, to normal people haranguing each other over Twitter over the slightest expression of political opinion: we must improve the quality of the conversations we have, and our willingness to comprehend what other people are saying.

In the next few months, as we inch even closer to another election, our muscle for conversation and debate will likely be tested further. It does not matter so much what happens, as much as how it happens does — for two reasons. One, healthy democracies are borne out of citizens that are engaged and invested in collective betterment, and to treat our fellow citizens’ political views as irrational or stupid denies the best in what the other imagines for the world, as well as any possibility of collaboration. Two, the ways in which we talk about politics in years to come will do much towards deciding what our higher-level values are. If we seek to collaborate and problem-solve together, our use of language will need to reflect this; if we seek to create a citizenry of respectful individuals who are able to have difficult conversations with grace, we will be all the better for it.