A depressing state of affairs

One of the most frustrating things that a journalist in Pakistan has to face is the total lack of concern shown by the establishment to suggestions, ideas and constructive criticism. Some of us toil in monastic solitude, flinging inky darts into the ether, wondering if they will ever hit their mark. Occasionally, one hears a strangled cry coming out of the gloaming, and that’s when we know it’s been worthwhile. The only problem is that the yelp is usually emitted by a civilian who has been caught with his fingers in the till,  or who is about to disappear with the corporate silver and has plans to buy a house in Buenos Aires where one is served beef four times a day. The accused invariably puts up a spirited defence to claim their innocence –– and often get away with it.

Week after week, journalists plug away on some theme or the other, cataloguing the latest iniquities of the government and listing fresh indignities inflicted on the common man by some agency of the power brokers. But the entreaties of the public are always met with a stony silence and a sublime indifference. For all they care, these writers could be crafting their columns and news reports on Titan, the environmental friendly satellite of Jupiter, to which a friend of mine has threatened to migrate to, if Yousaf Raza Gilani is reelected as prime minister

On June 26, 2006, I did a piece in Dawn entitled “Scams for all seasons”. The epistle ruffled quite a few feathers. It also triggered off a couple of telephone calls from Islamabad from a department, the identity of which prudence forbids me to reveal. The article mentioned the cement and sugar scandals. It highlighted the faux pas in the Security Printing Press where the chief honcho hadn’t asked for tenders and imported a press for five billion rupees –– which didn’t work. The piece also targeted the speaker of the National Assembly, who allegedly appropriated for himself a Rs11 million Mercedes Benz, sent hundreds of MNAs to Switzerland on R&R, and wanted a four-storey mansion built on 19,000 square feet, costing the taxpayer a staggering amount of money.

It also pointed out that the minister of railways had purchased a number of locomotives and 144 railway coaches at a cost of $69 million from China. Alas, somebody in the department had not done his homework. Trust the British to have installed the wrong gauge a hundred years ago. Since the locomotives and rolling stock could not operate on the old rails, it now became a case of putting the cart before the horse. After every blunder, a government spokesman is wheeled out as a saintly do-gooder and though short on plot and long on endearing lines, invariably has a plausible explanation for every official gaffe and indiscretion. However, in Pakistan, public memory is short. People forget and forgive. The corrupt are seldom incompetent. But when the incompetent become corrupt, well then you get a singular glimpse of life in the land of the pure.                                                                                                                                               There is obviously something wrong with a people who admire functionaries that squander millions of rupees of the taxpayers’ money in a flagrant display of ostentation. Thrift and parsimony have always been regarded as signs of weakness. People admire pomp and flamboyance. It’s part of the national psyche. Wasting resources is a national pastime. It’s just that some people do it better than others.

Unless the culture changes radically, we will continue to drift on an unchartered ocean, suffering the shenanigans of the yokels in the assemblies and waiting for the leader who can lead us out of the quagmire and, who is as elusive as the Loch Ness monster.

Published in The Express Tribune, March 7^th, 2012.