Glitter of enriched incompetence
When this leadership cannot even manage to supply petrol, we should be scared. Very scared.
The writer is Executive Director News, Express News. He tweets @fahdhusain fahd.husain@tribune.com.pk
Is this what it looks like when a government begins to dig its own grave?
The signs are unmistakable, petrol crisis being the latest example. A team boasting of a deep batting line-up is unable to stay on the crease. The ‘I’ for incompetence is replacing the ‘N’ in PML-N as stalwarts run helter-skelter like plucked chickens. The House Sharif is being ravaged by its own ineptitude.
The damage can be immense.
Make no mistake: there is a gradual but definitive erosion of civilian authority underway. This erosion does not seem deliberate, or planned, or perhaps even intentional, but a series of events have triggered this process and it is unfolding beyond a shadow of doubt. The government is the obvious loser, but clearly not the only one. Public confidence in their representatives is taking a daily hit as the nation fights an existential war for its future.
If optics alone were a barometer, General Sharif is clearly the man in charge, while his civilian namesake struggles to deliver the very basics of governance. The army, it seems, is not just fighting the war against terrorists, it is also planning it, coordinating it and even ‘marketing’ it. The emotionally-drenched blockbuster anthem “Bara dushman bana phirta hai jo bacchon sey larta hai” should have been produced by the information ministry, but it is the super-efficient ISPR which dominates the communication strategy now. Yes, the prime minister does chair meetings on the National Action Plan, but beyond that it is not really clear what he and his team have achieved in concrete terms since the Black Day of December 16.
There has been a flurry of meetings, garnished with photo-ops and reams of press releases and official statements. There has been a pretense of activity with prisoners hanged, clerics booked and places raided. There’s talk of developing a national anti-terrorism narrative and dispensing with dual-faced policy on militant groups. However, these are, at best, tactical moves that have been attempted in the past, and then abandoned with ease once the pressure receded.
The new normal is looking nauseatingly like the old one.
But new sentiments are nothing like the old ones. Pakistanis have been scared — and scarred — into action. Grief unites. The old way of doing things will just not cut it any more. Radical and transformational decisions need to be taken by the men and women elected to do so. And they need to be taken now.
This is where it gets scary. The petrol crisis is alarming not just because of the immense disruption of life it caused, but more so because it has exposed the horrendous way this government governs. A completely avoidable situation ballooned into a massive disaster simply because the men mandated to do a certain job a certain way failed to do so. Three powerful ministers — the famed experienced team of the House Sharif — messed up the fuel supply chain because they did not plan, did not foresee, did not coordinate and did not make payments and place orders in time.
What happened next is even more shocking. Ishaq Dar, Khawaja Asif and Shahid Khaqan Abbasi should be have been severely and publicly rebuked by the prime minister for this disaster; and then at least one should have been thrown under the bus. Instead, a massive cover-up was launched to save ministerial skins. Lowly heads were chopped off and presented to Mr Sharif on a silver platter, while the three ministers whistled back to their cushy offices.
Post-December 16, the nation was expecting a chastened government that was ready and willing to not just talk the talk, but walk it too. Sharif the civilian was now the leader of a nation at war. And not just any war, but a war that will define the future course of Pakistan; a war that will set or re-set our ideological moorings and exorcise the demons we have been nurturing for nearly four decades. In his third — and possibly final — stint as prime minister, Mr Sharif had found himself in a position that statesmen dream of: to be on the cusp of a truly transformational moment. Such a moment is seized not by a snap decision, or a slick policy statement, or even by a grand symbolic gesture — but by a strategic shift in direction on the back of sweeping reforms.
Instead, we got a deluge of deeply enriched incompetence flowing through the nozzles of petrol dispensers.
Pakistan is a patient oozing blood from multiple wounds which are beyond the healing powers of aspirin and Band-Aids. A stitch here, a bandage there is just not sufficient. Governments could never focus on the larger canvas, or prioritise policies in the right order. The war on terrorism has, however, knitted all the problem areas together in one coherent chain. If only someone notices.
So to fight this war, the education sector has to be reformed. This reform requires a complete overhaul of the madrassas and the curriculum taught across the provinces.
To fight this war, the judicial system needs to be reformed. This reform requires an overhaul of the prosecution procedures as well as the capacity of the courts to clear backlogs.
To fight this war, the police have to be thoroughly reformed because they are the first line of defence. This reform will require depoliticising the force, training it on modern lines, transforming the thana culture, making the policemen service-oriented, providing them with latest weapons and modern investigation skills that can produce evidence that holds up in courts.
To fight this war, mosques have to be reclaimed, militant groups have to be defanged, and hate literature has to be eradicated. This requires an acute level of clarity, and capacity within government institutions to execute policy with ruthless efficiency.
In essence then, if this war is fought the way it should be fought, the victory can truly transform Pakistan into a modern nation-state at peace with itself and the rest of the world. But to fight this war this way requires a leadership that has the skill, the will and the capacity to wage total war.
But when this leadership cannot even manage to supply petrol, we should be scared. Very scared.
Published in The Express Tribune, January 22nd, 2015.
The signs are unmistakable, petrol crisis being the latest example. A team boasting of a deep batting line-up is unable to stay on the crease. The ‘I’ for incompetence is replacing the ‘N’ in PML-N as stalwarts run helter-skelter like plucked chickens. The House Sharif is being ravaged by its own ineptitude.
The damage can be immense.
Make no mistake: there is a gradual but definitive erosion of civilian authority underway. This erosion does not seem deliberate, or planned, or perhaps even intentional, but a series of events have triggered this process and it is unfolding beyond a shadow of doubt. The government is the obvious loser, but clearly not the only one. Public confidence in their representatives is taking a daily hit as the nation fights an existential war for its future.
If optics alone were a barometer, General Sharif is clearly the man in charge, while his civilian namesake struggles to deliver the very basics of governance. The army, it seems, is not just fighting the war against terrorists, it is also planning it, coordinating it and even ‘marketing’ it. The emotionally-drenched blockbuster anthem “Bara dushman bana phirta hai jo bacchon sey larta hai” should have been produced by the information ministry, but it is the super-efficient ISPR which dominates the communication strategy now. Yes, the prime minister does chair meetings on the National Action Plan, but beyond that it is not really clear what he and his team have achieved in concrete terms since the Black Day of December 16.
There has been a flurry of meetings, garnished with photo-ops and reams of press releases and official statements. There has been a pretense of activity with prisoners hanged, clerics booked and places raided. There’s talk of developing a national anti-terrorism narrative and dispensing with dual-faced policy on militant groups. However, these are, at best, tactical moves that have been attempted in the past, and then abandoned with ease once the pressure receded.
The new normal is looking nauseatingly like the old one.
But new sentiments are nothing like the old ones. Pakistanis have been scared — and scarred — into action. Grief unites. The old way of doing things will just not cut it any more. Radical and transformational decisions need to be taken by the men and women elected to do so. And they need to be taken now.
This is where it gets scary. The petrol crisis is alarming not just because of the immense disruption of life it caused, but more so because it has exposed the horrendous way this government governs. A completely avoidable situation ballooned into a massive disaster simply because the men mandated to do a certain job a certain way failed to do so. Three powerful ministers — the famed experienced team of the House Sharif — messed up the fuel supply chain because they did not plan, did not foresee, did not coordinate and did not make payments and place orders in time.
What happened next is even more shocking. Ishaq Dar, Khawaja Asif and Shahid Khaqan Abbasi should be have been severely and publicly rebuked by the prime minister for this disaster; and then at least one should have been thrown under the bus. Instead, a massive cover-up was launched to save ministerial skins. Lowly heads were chopped off and presented to Mr Sharif on a silver platter, while the three ministers whistled back to their cushy offices.
Post-December 16, the nation was expecting a chastened government that was ready and willing to not just talk the talk, but walk it too. Sharif the civilian was now the leader of a nation at war. And not just any war, but a war that will define the future course of Pakistan; a war that will set or re-set our ideological moorings and exorcise the demons we have been nurturing for nearly four decades. In his third — and possibly final — stint as prime minister, Mr Sharif had found himself in a position that statesmen dream of: to be on the cusp of a truly transformational moment. Such a moment is seized not by a snap decision, or a slick policy statement, or even by a grand symbolic gesture — but by a strategic shift in direction on the back of sweeping reforms.
Instead, we got a deluge of deeply enriched incompetence flowing through the nozzles of petrol dispensers.
Pakistan is a patient oozing blood from multiple wounds which are beyond the healing powers of aspirin and Band-Aids. A stitch here, a bandage there is just not sufficient. Governments could never focus on the larger canvas, or prioritise policies in the right order. The war on terrorism has, however, knitted all the problem areas together in one coherent chain. If only someone notices.
So to fight this war, the education sector has to be reformed. This reform requires a complete overhaul of the madrassas and the curriculum taught across the provinces.
To fight this war, the judicial system needs to be reformed. This reform requires an overhaul of the prosecution procedures as well as the capacity of the courts to clear backlogs.
To fight this war, the police have to be thoroughly reformed because they are the first line of defence. This reform will require depoliticising the force, training it on modern lines, transforming the thana culture, making the policemen service-oriented, providing them with latest weapons and modern investigation skills that can produce evidence that holds up in courts.
To fight this war, mosques have to be reclaimed, militant groups have to be defanged, and hate literature has to be eradicated. This requires an acute level of clarity, and capacity within government institutions to execute policy with ruthless efficiency.
In essence then, if this war is fought the way it should be fought, the victory can truly transform Pakistan into a modern nation-state at peace with itself and the rest of the world. But to fight this war this way requires a leadership that has the skill, the will and the capacity to wage total war.
But when this leadership cannot even manage to supply petrol, we should be scared. Very scared.
Published in The Express Tribune, January 22nd, 2015.