How is this government different from the last one?

So what happened to the ‘new Pakistan’ we heard of so much on the eve of elections? Yes, the same Pakistan that was to emerge from the ashes of the PPP years, untangling itself from the muck and filth of the past and begin the journey to a future full of promise and hope. Where did that Pakistan disappear within a span of eight months?

Deliver, deliver, deliver: this was the mantra we heard pre- and post-elections. How old style back room politics was finally buried in the graveyard of false promises and a fresh approach to governance had sprouted from the soil. How the wise and oft-betrayed voters had mauled the corrupt and incompetent leadership and ushered in a cadre of men and women who could go beyond promises and actually do stuff. These men and women were supposed to have plans. Big plans. And the will to execute them.

But bad old days are dogged. They cling. And outlast their welcome. Yep, they just don’t get the message that their time is up. But perhaps it’s not up — not yet.

Look around you. Do you see a difference? Do you feel a difference? Is that air you breathe thick with the fragrance of hope? Does it smell of change? Is it laced with optimism? Can you detect a faint glimmer of the promised land out there on the hazy horizon? If not, do not fret. Most cannot either. Election 2013 was essentially defined by two parties: the PML-N and the PTI. Together these two carved out the narrative of better days ahead. Together, they sketched and painted the new and exciting alternative to the magnificent failure of the previous ruling coalition. And yes, together they made the voter dream a new dream about the dream that was once Pakistan.

And today? Between General (retd) Pervez Musharraf’s trial and the talk of No 1 and No 2 in Sindh; between the mirage of talks with the TTP and the wrestlemania over the Peshawar Electric Supply Corporation — we are back to the bad old days where politics defined governance and not the other way round. Meanwhile, gas and hope are dwindling, electricity and optimism are evaporating, inflation and tempers are rising and confidence and aspirations are plateauing.

And why? Where the message holds power, so do those behind the message. The PML-N boasted of a crack team of men (and a few women) who meant business; who were said to be the ‘doers’. These guys knew what to fix and how to fix it. And to top it all, they were pumped up. But then the Great Vanishing Act happened. Whoosh. Gone.

Khawaja Asif stormed the energy landscape at the start, cracking the whip at the ministry and diving straight into the policy mess left by the PPP. Eight months later, what has he done? As defence minister, he fires off statements, but then, so did Ahmad Mukhtar. Khawaja the whiz kid seems to have pulled a Houdini on the energy scene.

Saad Rafique, the livewire man of action was para-dropped into the railway ministry. Eight months later, he’s chugging along, but his trains aren’t. He was the doer, the man who could deliver results. The PPP had no Saad Rafique and it was poorer for it. What has he, the railway minister, done so far? Or has he been parked in the shed, like many of his locomotives?

Khurram Dastgir, probably one of the smartest politicians I know, is doing what exactly? Tossed like a football between ministries of commerce, privatisation, as well as science and technology, he has been put to pasture somewhere only to emerge for an occasional talk show appearance. His party is wasting his talents. And Ahsan Iqbal! O’ where art thou? The brainiac of the party, the man who represents all that is progressive, professional and proactive, has suddenly donned the invisibility cloak. I’m sure he’s doing something, just not sure what.

See, there’s the old, conventional, traditional, realpolitik kind of N- League represented by the likes of Ishaq Dar, Chaudhry Nisar, Sartaj Aziz, Pervaiz Rasheed and Mushahidullah Khan, etc. And then there’s ‘Brand N’. When Nawaz Sharif used to boast about his team, he meant the ‘Brand’ members: Asif, Saad, Khurram and Ahsan. So why are the openers now 12^th men?

Any wonder then on why we cannot see the change, or feel it. Old habits, you know, they cling.

Published in The Express Tribune, January 8^th, 2014.

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