US polls and our useless angst

Every election season in the United States triggers a fresh wave of stale angst in Pakistan. It is interesting, but in a way useless way.

"Look how the losers accept their defeat; see how polling is not challenged; watch how the system works even against those in power" – regular bemoaning like such reverberates across our commentariat landscape. Comparisons draw exaggerated sighs, often times accompanied by verbal self-flagellation. Uff, we say, why can't we have a system like that?

Pat comes the answer: because of "them" (patting one's shoulder).

If only it were that simple.

Time makes people jaded. I am no exception. Years and years of watching politics and political debates up close – and mostly participating in them – I have reached a stage where my ability to appreciate (or tolerate, to be more specific) ideologically drenched arguments is, to say politely, running on fumes. Anyone who is a defender of this side or that side, regardless of what their sides are saying or doing, does little to command my attention. Call it whatever – ideological, or partisan, or expedient – such framing of arguments is weak, superficial and callous.

That's why those among us who bemoan the state of our democracy draw strength from only one major argument: if we just stick to the letter and spirit of the Constitution, all will be well. You can't argue with that. But this argument is a cop out. Why? Because it conveniently sidesteps the issue of who, and how?

Just have free and fair elections. Let the winner take power. Then all will be well. Really? How? Same weak argument that does not display the courage to ask the real tough questions that should – must – follow this convenient framing of the argument. There aren't too many cures for lazy reasoning.

The factors leading to disastrous governance in Pakistan are far deeper than these shallow arguments and superficial solutions. The democracy vs dictatorship cyclical reasoning is both the symptom and cause of such discourse. The 'if-only-we-had-free-polls' school of thought versus 'this-nation-only-needs-a-danda' supporters continue to grapple with their useless arguments over the decades without once stepping back to acknowledge the glaring failures such repeated experiments.

Today is no different. Which makes me even more jaded.

Jaded because the pro-and-anti arguments get more stale with every fresh development. We have all seen what damage authoritarianism has done to Pakistan. We have also seen what injuries democratic governance has inflicted on governance. The results are painfully obvious. Pakistan approaches its 80th birthday weighed down by social, political and economic ailments we should have cured many decades ago.

Authoritarians have never understood the real meaning of checks and balances within a system. They have also never really recognised the importance of concepts like the freedom of expression. They never will. They are not trained to do so. They are also not trained to govern by consensus. So, they never will. To expect them to do so is plain silly. The nation pays the cost.

The democrats have never understood the meaning of constitutionalism if it does not sync with their politics. PPP, PML-N and PTI have resisted empowered local governments even though the Constitution requires them to do so. They never will. PPP will not agree to administrative changes just because they will adversely affect the party's politics. PML-N will not enforce tax on retailers just because this will affect its politics. PTI will not take a strong stand against the TTP because – sigh, yes – many consider this will cost them. The real cost of all these failings is, of course, paid by the nation.

Free and fair elections – if and when they are held – will bring one or all of these parties in power. Good. But then what? Hint: see above paragraph.

I don't know if it was this that Interior Minister Mohsin Naqvi was referring to when he said the system is broken. If he did, then he's right. Nothing reflects the bankruptcy of our political debate more than the fact that Naqvi's detractors focused more on him and less on what he said. That's what happens when you dress up shallow, partisan rhetoric as public debate and send it out in front of the cameras.

You want to see how broken this system is? Go to far flung districts and visit schools, dispensaries, katcheris and thanas. Or go to terrorism-afflicted areas. Or to the parliament. Then ask yourself again what the solution is: just danda? Just elections?

These useless debates framed around stale arguments and hackneyed rhetoric are one visible manifestation of the denial we live in: denial about elite capture, denial about the real intentions of the 'democrats' and 'authoritarians, denial about the real causes of our malaise, denial about pathetic state of our governance, denial about the true nature of our colonial system lorded over by colonial institutions, and denial about the hypocritical logic we peddle as solutions to our problems.

At a panel discussion in Islamabad this week, I aired similar sentiments in front of other participants who represented all major elite sectors of society. I was accused of being pessimistic and losing hope. Yes, I have lost hope. But not in this crazy, beautiful country – my home – but in those who run it. They will never change. They will never give up their privileges. They will never protect the nation's interest at their expense of self-interest. They will never reform. They will never even allow reform if it undercuts their ability to hold sway over the system.

So, yes, I'm old enough to be jaded and cynical. And yet, I'm young enough to understand, recognise and, in fact, insist, that the fight must go on – even if it means engaging with self-centred elites and their useless, self-pandering arguments.