Feeling the pulse of the nation

In the early 1960s, it was the letters column in daily newspapers that, in a sense, described the pulse of the people.

An American politician once said if you really want to know what the people are thinking and feeling, read the letters column in your daily newspaper. Mind you, this was way, way before the telly, computers and cell phones inundated our land. These days, when you switch on your TV set, you’ll find at least a dozen channels, all competing for attention, all spewing out more or less the same type of programme and tackling the same thorny issues. The current flavour of the month hasn’t changed. It is still being served in generous dollops with second helpings by three out of the four major political parties that contested the recent elections. At times, the effect is maudlin and dull, like a slow march. On occasion, it is highly entertaining, like when all panelists compete for the extreme facial expression award and all end up speaking at the same time. As long as the subject is politics, it is all right.

But back in the early 1960s, it was the letters column that, in a sense, described the pulse of the people. Of course, there were no extremists trying to disorientate society. But there was, nevertheless, a highly elastic censorship, and no journalist would ever venture to openly criticise the prevailing dictatorship. And so, leader writers got rid of their frustrations by venting their spleen on what was happening in the Congo, Kashmir, and Palestine and used the same technique that Polish film-maker Andrej Wajda employed in Man of Marble — symbolism. In 1969, when it looked like Ayub Khan’s rose was beginning to wilt, I became an avid reader of the letters column in six Karachi newspapers. The subjects were quite intriguing and stretched from US scholarships being awarded to the wrong people, to suggesting a ban on hitching old racehorses onto tongas, to the dead buffalo that had been lying in state for over a week near the water pump in Nazimabad, that was being used as a landmark to people looking for an address.

There were also a few pleas for constructing public urinals in the city for men so that the walls of government offices didn’t have to be distempered every few months; and for women who, though they have learned the art of self-control through years of endurance, have started to develop problems with their kidneys. But I was amazed at the number of people who had a natural predilection for falling into open manholes and citizens who believed that the people who planned the city’s bus routes were unmitigated idiots. Then there were the natives who were constantly singled out by the Anopheles mosquito; and those who hadn’t received their pension since 1956.

But strangely enough, I never came across more than a couple of letters that exhorted members of the public to live an honest and simple life without resorting to unnecessary extravagance and wanton waste. That’s when I came across that superb Volkswagen (VW) campaign: “Think Small”, created by Doyle Dane Bernbach which Ad Age ranked as the best advertising campaign of the 20^th century. In a world where cars weren’t just a way to get kids to school, but fashion statements, testerone boosters and muscles on wheels, the VW Beetle — the Peoples’ Car, whose development was closely tied to Adolf Hitler — appeared as a small, slow, ugly foreign immigrant. But when it was displayed as an undersized car against a mass of white space, it was turned into an iconic piece of American pride. It’s still not too late for our leaders to “Think Small” and emulate the lifestyle of the Iranian leaders.

Published in The Express Tribune, May 26^th, 2013.