Our fickle fortune

Terrorism and violent death stalk Pakistan and have penetrated all folds of national life. It’s the standard fare of most conversations, especially of Karachiites. But there is no reason to panic or act stupidly. The terrorists aren’t winning and the public is not with them. We are fighting them, as much spiritually and psychologically as physically – and getting the upper hand. ‘No-go’ areas are being opened up and the process will continue till the terrorists are defeated, desist or accept the ‘honourable’ way out.

Admittedly, how bigots, fanatics and murderers can be persuaded to seek the ‘honour’ route is not easy to comprehend but Imran Khan says he knows and has a cure. Whatever that miraculous potion may be, the treatment is likely to span decades. And it will need another miracle to work because education, opportunity and good governance accompanied by dollops of ‘stick’ – all of which must be judiciously combined and form part of the potion – are not to be had for the asking, as we know from experience.

But even if they were, what about the other fears that need to be allayed and which have existed for ages without being addressed? These include, for instance, our lowly and downtrodden people’s fear of their overbearing masters, the mighty and powerful people’s fear of their unreliable and mutinous subjects and the middle classes’ fear of their wayward leaders and the explosive masses. Even if they can be tackled, say, by the ‘change’ Imran promises, what is the likelihood that such a ‘change’ is at hand?

The belief that people crave ‘change’ seems more of a myth than anything else. The poor, for example, may not like the way things are run and have been run for a long time but they are also frightened by change. They know that they will be the first victims of the disturbances that often accompany the demand for change and even if all they have to lose are their meaningless jobs and their miserable lives they are understandably terrified by the prospects. Even our ‘revolutionaries’ are afraid of a revolution. They talk truculently but do nothing to bring on the bloodbath they so assiduously crave.

Sadly, experience as much as fear has taught Pakistanis – the villager no less than the wadera/chaudhry, and the urbanite as much as the pen pushers who inhabit Islamabad – that it’s best to approach life warily, much like experienced trackers through the forest, looking ahead and behind, right and left feeling the ground ahead for concealed traps and snares. And why not?

Recall, we rushed pell-mell for ‘change’ in 1947 and suffered a calamity but at least we gained freedom. The next time we united for ‘change’ was in the delirious welcome we accorded our first Bonaparte – Ayub Khan (1958). For a while, and even today, that decade – 1958-68 – is regarded as the ‘golden period’ of Pakistan’s existence. And while it laid the ground work for the subsequent industrial (aborted) ‘take off’ of Pakistan, Ayub Khan did something else. He made sure that the unity of the country existed only as a myth.

He united labels, names and titles but not reality. He did nothing to address the malaise and restlessness of the people of East Pakistan; or the feeling that they were the victims of injustice and the prey of other people’s greed; or the desire to revolt and break away from the centralised government in distant Islamabad. While the east wing inched towards progress under Ayub Khan, the west wing progressed rapidly. But Ayub Khan wasn’t bothered and we all paid the price for his indifference.

The third occasion the country united politically and voted for a ‘change’ was when we voted for ZA Bhutto and well, let’s just say, we gained nothing. Of course, we were startled and fascinated by him. Only a few sensed his vanity, his desire for adulation, his impatience, his cruelty, his truculence and arrogance; or that he was self-willed, suspicious and impatient. Nor, admittedly, was all this visible from a distance, which is where we stood. His public figure was one thing – the fearless people’s man, the brilliant orator, the consummate diplomat and, eventually, the willing martyr – but the reality was very different and well, let’s just leave it at that.

The fourth such occasion was the incredible reception accorded to his daughter, Benazir Bhutto, in 1986 which was reflected in the substantial margin of her victory in the 1988 elections. Few leaders had a greater fund of public goodwill on assuming office and tragically few squandered it more quickly (although to be fair the dice were loaded against BB). But to her everlasting credit BB recovered much of that; and the circumstances of her death and the courage she displayed transformed her into the (saintly) icon she is today.

Imran Khan is no Bhutto and, though some believe that by voting for him we may gain much, that’s not a given. There is no certainty he is capable of seeing through the obsequiousness, half-truths and deceptions he will be confronted with or whether he will be able to withstand the plain and unadorned expression of objective truth. Then there is the question of his ability and inexperience of state craft and also of his capacity to handle the burden of high office. But it must be a consolation, and a telling argument in his favour, that he cannot possibly be worse than his two main rivals.

Pakistanis of all classes are desperately searching for someone who promises them protection from the various fears listed earlier and for a solid and enduring society. If democracy and Imran et al can deliver that so much the better but, if not, then as one current PTI luminary whispered in my ear, “to hell with both of them” which, as a barometer of public feelings, isn’t wide off the mark.

The trouble is that democracy does not have any firm roots in Pakistan. Political parties may praise the ‘freedom’ associated with democracy in their speeches, at mass meetings and in their catchy marching songs but a closer look at the parties’ ideals will show that many of such slogans are so confined by provisos, religious preoccupations, customs and class prejudices, that we can only conclude that they are really wary of liberty and want only a little of it – at best, safely diluted and at times none at all. And there is a reason for that.

We have seen how, when in absolute control, the PPP (1972-77) and the PML-N (1997-99) imposed nothing but a shining façade of new buildings, some roads, mass meetings, slogans and speeches on Pakistani reality under which shoddy life went on imperturbably with the clever and crooked ones making money and having a good time, and all the others carrying on much as they did before. Nevertheless, so great is the public desire to create a better polity, even if it is in reality a papier-mâché state that they continue to vote for the same parties election after election. Imran Khan will be hard pushed to break that trend.

Nor can Imran count on luck. In Pakistan, fortune is notoriously fickle. Good times in Pakistan never seem to last long. Besides, history is restless. Our leaders share the qualities and defects of the people and nourish the same ideals. They are, in fact, what fellow Pakistanis make them and thus far that has not proved good enough. So, Imran has to be very special and that too is not absolutely self-evident.

The writer is a former ambassador. Email: charles123it@hotmail.com