The blots we endure

It does happen on rare occasions that when one of our transient illuminati in one of the many power seats chooses to grapple with a problem, he manages it — somehow. Finance Minister Ishaq Dar chose to take on the mighty dollar and –– well, he and some others must know how and why –– so far, he is winning. But then, when some such thing transpires, one is always left wondering what sort of hanky-panky it involves and who stands to profit the most. One is always left doubting that it is either the country or the people.

Then there is the utterly shameless blot that is the government of Sindh, led by its chief minister, who like so many others floating at the top, is well past his sell-by date and should have been put out to pasture long ago. During the first of Benazir’s prime ministerial terms starting in 1988, Qaim Ali Shah, back then, ‘serving’ as the province’s redundant chief minister, was known by some as ‘Commuter Qaim’ because he was forever on a flight between Karachi and Islamabad. Headlines in the press informed us every second day that ‘Qaim goes’ and ‘Qaim comes’.



He is obviously clueless as to what transpires in his government (or what passes for one) since it was not until the press went to town that he reacted to the Thar situation, and even that reaction was shaming and disgraceful. Young Asad Rahim on these pages on March 11 was rightly and justifiably merciless on the man: “Resign Qaim Ali Shah… you’ve disgraced the office you hold.” Well, Asad, not a hope in hell. The man has not one speck of honour or integrity or pride even in his little finger. The deaths of the neglected and forsaken children of Thar figures nowhere on his list of priorities.

There have been many blots on the Pakistani landscape since time memorial, and one particular blot of the many that ‘grace’ us today (as the prime minister ‘graces’ the National Assembly on his rare — very rare — visits to the House over which he presides) is our IntMin. The interior minister of the democratic dispensations of this century have both been od-bods, but to give Rehman Malik his due, he was at least humorous; he smiled and cheerfully absorbed the brickbats chucked at him. But this one is dour, boring, given to double-speak and to top it all, dangerous.

Whether at the behest of his boss or whether he has been given a free rein, what he says and does is merely helping to further the cause of militant extremism –– the blot that beats all the blots that disfigure the state –– and of the international observation that this country is one of the most dangerous in the world. His manner of tackling the famous talks is odious, leading us all up a mined-garden path. As many have commented, his government’s surrender or its sinister ties to the forces of Talibanisation is distorting and maiming the national mindset. Citizens are being subjected to a programme of propaganda that threatens and terrifies them, sometimes into a forced submission in order to save what is left of their souls.

On the one hand, sections of the electronic media have chosen to tow the Taliban line, whether for the sake of safety or their closeted beliefs. Those who chose otherwise have to resort to other means. As just one example of how this fear of the present and future affect lives and thoughts, a reading of this column on the quandary of the press illustrates the frustration and fear that today permeates life in the Islamic Republic, lashing on the rocks –– both freedom of expression and thought as guaranteed by what is now almost a redundant Constitution.

Published in The Express Tribune, March 15^th, 2014.

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