YouTube and the Constitution

A story from my childhood recounted a kingdom whose ruler was annoyed by the apathy of his people. One day, he decided to levy a tax on a bridge that ran across a river in the centre of the capital, expecting people to protest the injustice. No reaction. The next day, he announced that along with the tax, the tax collector will also whip each pedestrian. When he saw a crowd gather outside his castle the next day, the king was jubilant that he had finally prodded his people into action. Their demand? It takes too long for one officer to collect the tax and whip the person, so the king should appoint two officers.

Resilience is praiseworthy. But we have learned the art of trudging along a bit too well.

A few days back, I came across a video on YouTube that I thought a friend in Pakistan would find interesting and shared it with him. He replied, rather amused, “You do know that YouTube is still banned here, right?”

Indeed, it is. It has actually been banned for over 200 days now — a period long enough for people to forget what they are missing or why YouTube was banned in the first place. We raise our voices, ridicule the erstwhile interior minister, throw some dust and blame around. Then, the dust settles. And we move on. Largely, the debate around the YouTube ban seems to have been forgotten, even as the caretaker government has taken over. While the reasons behind this ban are debatable — a blasphemous video that got much more attention than it deserved, and the ingenious blanket policies of our government — this trend towards settling for less and less with each passing day is troublesome.

The same fate awaits the current debate around the Constitution and the havoc that is being caused by Articles 62 and 63. A remnant of the Eighth Amendment made in the 1973 Constitution by General Ziaul Haq, the articles embody his distrust of politicians and the democratic process. Unfortunately, his desire to superimpose religion in matters of the state, as well as the public and private lives of its citizens, has been carried forward by religious zealots. Specifically, clauses 62(d) to (g) were used by a few returning officers (ROs) to judge whether candidates are “of good character”, are “honest and ameen” and not opposed to the “ideology of Pakistan”.

In a series of damage control moves, respective honourable high courts stepped in to reverse the rulings by the ROs. Healthy criticisms have come forth regarding the legitimacy of Articles 62 and 63, Zia’s continuing legacy of Islamisation, and our beloved nation’s “ideology”. However, is this debate going to continue beyond the current election season?

To be fair, there have been efforts to make the Constitution more aligned with democratic principles. The erstwhile PPP government will flaunt the Eighteenth Amendment as a major step towards bringing the Constitution back to its true spirit. But if ridding the Constitution of Zia’s legacy was the true intent, why was it unable to tackle Articles 62 and 63, which are coming back to haunt us now? It is high time that we freed the Constitution from absurd self-righteousness that should have no place in a democracy. We should not forget Articles 62 and 63 until the next election. If nothing else, self-preservation might incite the future parliament to tackle this onslaught of moral policing. Otherwise, we might find ourselves standing in queues waiting to be whipped the next time we go to cast a vote.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 19^th, 2013.