CSS MPT

Recently, I took and cleared the CSS MPT test and received a mixed response from esteemed teachers, friends and readers. Most of them appreciated me and wished me good luck for the next steps ahead. However, some of them suggested against becoming part of this “rotten to the core” system. Instead, they suggested that I continue what I am doing today — writing. I feel gratitude for both and appreciate their wishes and suggestions.

However, I thoroughly reflected on what I would be like if I become part of the so-called prestigious civil services, also known as the bureaucracy. While making a candid assessment of the existing conditions and my aptitude, I came to an interesting conclusion. In the first place, it is quite unlikely that I would make it to the final selection in the civil services. This is perhaps because, instead of being deceptively positive and unrealistically utopian as widely suggested for making it into the civil services, my answers to the questions might be much closer to the ground realities.

Even if I miraculously qualify, the road ahead won’t be smooth either. In the CTP and STP, I would be trained and indoctrinated along colonial lines. I would be instilled with arrogance and xenophobic tendencies in the name of discipline and elitist standards. I would be taught how to keep a distance from the common folk if I am to safeguard my status. The idea that respecting and mingling with the common folk would risk my reputation and esteem is something I would have to learn. Therefore, I would have to preserve my elitist status by being as inaccessible to the public as possible.

I would be taught dining etiquette and dressing norms more than humanistic values. Like most of the bureaucracy, I would bid adieu to the training almost completely dehumanised and ready to demonise the common folks. The training would be followed by my posting as a probationer. During this time, I would be made to realise how much unpopular power I can yield and wield over the public. I would be taught how to enforce the will and the interests of the powerful stakeholders on the people. I would be socialised along authoritarian lines, above any law or ethical considerations. I would also be equipped with all the tools, tips and tactics of serving the masters in the name of serving the public. I would be taught the art of pleasing the masters in the best manner with refined skills of corruption, kleptocracy, and engaging in illegal acts legally.

In the probationary period, I would have to passionately learn all these skills, as resisting them might jeopardise my career growth prospects. I wouldn’t even think of resisting, let alone acting in contrast to bureaucratic norms, for doing so would have a negative impact on my upward career mobility. My blind allegiance to the system during the three-year probationary period would almost erase any traces of public empathy and make me fit for a prestigious career.

However, my regular postings would depend on how well I commit to serving the interests of the electable and stakeholders of the area I get posted in. On the first day of the posting, I would pay homage to the court of stakeholders in the region. This act of generosity would be reciprocated by my subordinates in the form of garlands and invaluable gifts during the welcome ceremony. I would also receive a warm welcome from notoriously prominent media-persons and so-called members of civil society. In return, they would rightfully receive a fair share of what I would gain by misusing funds and exploiting the public.

Encouraged by this complete impunity, I would engage in all acts except those prescribed by law or in service of the people. And if I defy these bureaucratic norms, I would end up facing any of the following three fates: being dragged into the courts; sitting idly at home; or ultimately quitting the job altogether.

Published in The Express Tribune, June 4^th, 2023.

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