The importance of not being Earnest

Importance of foreign missions is demonstrated by local functionary in attendance of its national day celebrations.

A measure of the importance of a foreign mission and the esteem in which it is held by our government is, at times, demonstrated by the status of the local functionary who is required to attend foreign national day celebrations. At the top of the pecking order is the governor, followed by the chief minister. And since their lordships as a rule do not attend diplomatic functions, the lot falls fairly and squarely on the shoulders of the speaker of the provincial assembly. Now, one would have thought that the volume of trade between two countries would have had something to do with the choice of dignitary who would grace the occasion with his presence. If this was the case, Germany and France, the dominant partners in the European Union, would have been upgraded. After all, Pakistan’s volume of trade with the EU amounted to 15.8 per cent last year, edging out China by 0.4 per cent. However, the two European partners still got the speaker while the Chinese got both the governor and the chief minister. The UAE, whose average volume of trade hovers around 9.6 per cent, also got the two top VIPs and a minister. And when the Saudis celebrate, you’ll see all three and another dozen freeloaders.

Now, I have nothing against the speaker Nisar Ahmed Khuhro. He is a good sort, pleasant and friendly. He always speaks extempore, is at times amusing and mercifully, his speeches don’t last more than two minutes and 38 seconds. Qaim Ali Shah, who at times exudes a lugubrious dignity, is modest and unassuming, reads from a prepared speech and gives the impression that he is enjoying what he is doing. Now we come to El Supremo — the governor. He is my favourite because he doesn’t speak at all and because he has perfected the art of arriving five minutes before closing time at most functions including Her Majesty’s birthday celebrations. The great advantage of this, so far as the guests are concerned, is that he postpones the encirclement of sycophants till the end.



I haven’t yet discovered which of the foreign diplomats are kosher and which we are supposed to avoid. Three years ago, while coming out of the Chinese consulate, a seedy looking character who flashed an ID card wanted to know whom I had gone to meet and what we had discussed. I replied in German, threw up my hands and that was that. There was this other incident not so long ago, the day after a dinner I had hosted which was attended by a clutch of diplomats and their wives. Two scruffy looking blokes on a motorcycle in starched white, sporting oily subedar major moustaches landed up at my gate. They had the word ‘Policeman’ written all over them. They said they were from Intelligence. As it was late afternoon, we sat on easy chairs on the lawn munching biscuits, sipping tea and running down the Pakistan cricket team, while listening to the quiet friction of foliage. A bird chirped on one of the branches of the Rain Tree. Had the US consul general attended my dinner, one of the men in white wanted to know. I said the American was actually a Russian but I couldn’t be sure because he was born in Bloemfontein. Two sets of eyebrows rose, met in the middle and travelled sideways. They never got around to asking me what we had discussed. They left a few minutes later and never came back. For all I know, they are probably still trying to figure out the man’s nationality…

Published in The Express Tribune, December 9^th, 2012.