A purely personal view of the debacle
Occasional outbursts, while frightening entrenched leaders, reminds them that they are not sacrosanct.
The perception is that it won’t be long before the circus unfolds its wings in Islamabad and goes back to where it came from. Now that the prime minister has the unstinting support of the Parliament and the United States, he is breathing a little easier, for whatever passes for democracy in Pakistan has weathered the storm and survived. After all the ruckus and rumpus, was the adventure really worth it? Did the marches achieve anything, or was the episode just a hastily stitched together series of newsreels about two buccaneers who through a supermarket sweep of political rhetoric tried to initiate a revolution; and in the process had gotten a little carried away?
In our neck of the woods, there have been all kinds of reactions. Wide swathes of the population enjoyed watching the shenanigans on television and audiences had almost forgotten about what was happening in Gaza. City people have a low boredom threshold and for them the footage was jolly good entertainment. The carnival represented some kind of hope. It also uncorked a whole new raft of conspiracy theories. Imran Khan projected himself as the voice of the future. He hogged the limelight, savoured every moment of glory bestowed by a captive audience … promised divine justice and prosperity for everybody. To his followers it was a sort of Second Coming.
Members of Karachi’s Tea Party, however, were less than enthusiastic about the two cavalcades, not because of any particular liking for the democratic system, but because they believe the revolt would spawn political instability at a time when the military was fiercely engaged in combating militancy. Some citizens have stated that in urging people not to pay taxes, Imran Khan was committing political suicide. However, in all fairness to the man, he did publicly endorse what people had been saying and feeling for a very long time — not just the alleged official manipulation of election results and widespread corruption at all levels of federal and provincial hierarchies, but the fact that after wading through the messy and unappetising compendium of leftovers, and manifesto promises to put things right, nothing substantial has ever been achieved. M Ziauddin, in his column on these pages, had vividly described how members of the Muslim League cabinet had become totally inaccessible to the public and behaved as if they were blue-blooded Ruritarians answerable only to themselves.
Much has been said and written about the PTI leader urging civil disobedience on the telly. References have even been made to India’s greatest son, Mahatma Gandhi, though the circumstances were drastically different. But I remember quite vividly the deathly hush that descended on the PTI mob when he advocated such drastic action. One wonders, however, whether it was a spur-of-the-moment thing … something that suddenly sprung to mind when he was at a loss for words … or whether he meant what he said. Pierre Poujade, the Gallic shopkeeper-turned-politician, tried something similar in France a long time ago. It didn’t work there and it certainly won’t work in Pakistan.
Rabble rousing is an art. Adolf Hitler, Fidel Castro, and the granddaddy of public speaking, Marcus Tullius Cicero, Roman politician, orator, lawyer, political theorist and constitutionalist, were exceptionally good at it even though they often had a one-point agenda. Future demagogues would certainly benefit from studying their techniques. One can only hope that wiser counsel will soon prevail and stability is restored. In conclusion, all one can say is that occasional outbursts such as that recently took place, while they frighten the daylights out of entrenched leaders, also remind them that they are not sacrosanct, and are expected to fulfil promises made to the electorate.
Published in The Express Tribune, August 24th, 2014.
In our neck of the woods, there have been all kinds of reactions. Wide swathes of the population enjoyed watching the shenanigans on television and audiences had almost forgotten about what was happening in Gaza. City people have a low boredom threshold and for them the footage was jolly good entertainment. The carnival represented some kind of hope. It also uncorked a whole new raft of conspiracy theories. Imran Khan projected himself as the voice of the future. He hogged the limelight, savoured every moment of glory bestowed by a captive audience … promised divine justice and prosperity for everybody. To his followers it was a sort of Second Coming.
Members of Karachi’s Tea Party, however, were less than enthusiastic about the two cavalcades, not because of any particular liking for the democratic system, but because they believe the revolt would spawn political instability at a time when the military was fiercely engaged in combating militancy. Some citizens have stated that in urging people not to pay taxes, Imran Khan was committing political suicide. However, in all fairness to the man, he did publicly endorse what people had been saying and feeling for a very long time — not just the alleged official manipulation of election results and widespread corruption at all levels of federal and provincial hierarchies, but the fact that after wading through the messy and unappetising compendium of leftovers, and manifesto promises to put things right, nothing substantial has ever been achieved. M Ziauddin, in his column on these pages, had vividly described how members of the Muslim League cabinet had become totally inaccessible to the public and behaved as if they were blue-blooded Ruritarians answerable only to themselves.
Much has been said and written about the PTI leader urging civil disobedience on the telly. References have even been made to India’s greatest son, Mahatma Gandhi, though the circumstances were drastically different. But I remember quite vividly the deathly hush that descended on the PTI mob when he advocated such drastic action. One wonders, however, whether it was a spur-of-the-moment thing … something that suddenly sprung to mind when he was at a loss for words … or whether he meant what he said. Pierre Poujade, the Gallic shopkeeper-turned-politician, tried something similar in France a long time ago. It didn’t work there and it certainly won’t work in Pakistan.
Rabble rousing is an art. Adolf Hitler, Fidel Castro, and the granddaddy of public speaking, Marcus Tullius Cicero, Roman politician, orator, lawyer, political theorist and constitutionalist, were exceptionally good at it even though they often had a one-point agenda. Future demagogues would certainly benefit from studying their techniques. One can only hope that wiser counsel will soon prevail and stability is restored. In conclusion, all one can say is that occasional outbursts such as that recently took place, while they frighten the daylights out of entrenched leaders, also remind them that they are not sacrosanct, and are expected to fulfil promises made to the electorate.
Published in The Express Tribune, August 24th, 2014.