The gathering storm
There is much talk of Pakistan a mistake, possibility of violent upheaval wiping out upper middle, middle class.
There’s an old Negro spiritual saying that goes something like this: “I’d rather be on the inside looking out than on the outside looking in”. In Pakistan, the overwhelming majority of people live on the outside without a hope in hell of ever trading places. But even some of those on the inside are beginning to feel that the ground is slipping from underneath their feet. It is not just because of the shenanigans of their prime minister, who is overdoing his somewhat theatrical defiance of the judiciary and following it up with those ridiculous one-liners. Nor is it because of the reaction of the government to the assassination of the former governor of Punjab, Salman Taseer, or because there is little to choose between the frightening available political alternatives in the forthcoming election.
It is primarily because there really is no hope. There is no government, no planning, no direction, no supervision — just functional anarchy. Whatever laws were passed for the protection of women are not being implemented. There is too much talk of Pakistan having been a mistake and the possibility of a violent upheaval in the near future which will wipe out the upper middle class and what’s left of the dwindling middle class. There is also the illusion that some sort of activity still exists in industry, which is largely functioning on a single shift where Parkinson’s Law reigns supreme, where work expands to fill the time available for its completion.
The family of the deceased governor must wonder what happened to all that bluff and bluster, all that heroic posturing and truculence, that absurd claim to secularism, when the head of state and head of government couldn’t even make an appearance at the funeral of such a high-ranking and loyal supporter of their party. Was it a case of blue funk or did their gesture indicate a tacit acceptance of the principle that, in Pakistan, a murder is justifiable, as long as it is committed in the name of religion?
There have been very few instances where a slaying such as that of Salman Taseer has been captured so clearly on national television. The world also saw a platoon of lawyers garlanding and throwing rose petals on the assassin who, after committing cold-blooded murder, strutted about like Alexander Nevsky after defeating the Teutonic Knights. In all countries, including Saudi Arabia, lawyers are supposed to be the upholders of the law and wilful murder is punishable by death. But in this country, the ethos has been drastically altered.
In all fairness to the coalition, it has, of late, been hampered by threats of long marches, political tsunamis, calls for early elections and attempts to bring back a former president who did incalculable damage to the country — a man who destroyed the civil service, eliminated the chief justice, passed the odious National Reconciliation Ordinance and didn’t add one kilowatt of electricity to the national grid. Karachi has been constantly riddled by strikes, demonstrations, ethnic unrest, a well-organised criminal network and general turmoil. The people are tough and they have survived. But they are rapidly losing hope. A heavy air of foreboding hangs over Pakistan’s cities and the countryside. Some have managed to escape to the West and have braved racism and discrimination. For those who can afford it, Malaysia has provided a second home. For the rest, there is a light at the end of the extinction.
Published in The Express Tribune, May 6th, 2012.
It is primarily because there really is no hope. There is no government, no planning, no direction, no supervision — just functional anarchy. Whatever laws were passed for the protection of women are not being implemented. There is too much talk of Pakistan having been a mistake and the possibility of a violent upheaval in the near future which will wipe out the upper middle class and what’s left of the dwindling middle class. There is also the illusion that some sort of activity still exists in industry, which is largely functioning on a single shift where Parkinson’s Law reigns supreme, where work expands to fill the time available for its completion.
The family of the deceased governor must wonder what happened to all that bluff and bluster, all that heroic posturing and truculence, that absurd claim to secularism, when the head of state and head of government couldn’t even make an appearance at the funeral of such a high-ranking and loyal supporter of their party. Was it a case of blue funk or did their gesture indicate a tacit acceptance of the principle that, in Pakistan, a murder is justifiable, as long as it is committed in the name of religion?
There have been very few instances where a slaying such as that of Salman Taseer has been captured so clearly on national television. The world also saw a platoon of lawyers garlanding and throwing rose petals on the assassin who, after committing cold-blooded murder, strutted about like Alexander Nevsky after defeating the Teutonic Knights. In all countries, including Saudi Arabia, lawyers are supposed to be the upholders of the law and wilful murder is punishable by death. But in this country, the ethos has been drastically altered.
In all fairness to the coalition, it has, of late, been hampered by threats of long marches, political tsunamis, calls for early elections and attempts to bring back a former president who did incalculable damage to the country — a man who destroyed the civil service, eliminated the chief justice, passed the odious National Reconciliation Ordinance and didn’t add one kilowatt of electricity to the national grid. Karachi has been constantly riddled by strikes, demonstrations, ethnic unrest, a well-organised criminal network and general turmoil. The people are tough and they have survived. But they are rapidly losing hope. A heavy air of foreboding hangs over Pakistan’s cities and the countryside. Some have managed to escape to the West and have braved racism and discrimination. For those who can afford it, Malaysia has provided a second home. For the rest, there is a light at the end of the extinction.
Published in The Express Tribune, May 6th, 2012.