PTI chairman Imran Khan needs no introduction, but for some of you, Tara Maseeh probably will.

Tara Maseeh was the man who hanged an elected former prime minister, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, on the gallows back in 1979. At that time, student activists of Jamaat-e-Islami used to go about Karachi University chanting the following slogan:

Tara Maseeh aye ga, surkhon ko latkaye ga

[Tara Maseeh will come and hang these liberals/atheists]

The upcoming 'Azadi March' and Imran Khan's Bahawalpur speech preceding it has put this hanging business in the news again.

At a rally in Bahawalpur, Khan famously threatened that if so much as a single bullet was fired at his followers during the Azadi March in August, he will hang the official behind the shooting with his own hands.

In the same speech, Khan put forward four questions to the PML-N government. Federal Information Minister Pervaiz Rasheed not only answered the questions but also offered to be hanged off Imran's hands in case the answers were wrong.

I'd say that if nothing else, Imran Khan's threat should have appeased the sizeable pro-death penalty community of Pakistan, who believe that no good can come out of a crime-fighting regiment if every crime isn't punishable by death. The philosophy paints the last government as an abject failure, for in all five years of its tenure, it failed to put a single convicted head into the noose.

I think Bhutto's hanging could be a possible reason for that.

Bhutto's death has been openly called 'judicial murder' for a long time now. Justice Naseem Hasan Shah — one of the judges on the panel which imposed the death sentence on Bhutto — admitted in an interview that there was tremendous political pressure behind the sentence.

Go through:On this day: Bhutto hanged

More recently, in October 1999, when Pervez Musharraf ousted Nawaz Sharif and filed a case against him for hijacking a plane, the general had hoped Sharif and his loyalists would be awarded the death sentence.

But as luck would have it, a Sindhi judge, Justice Rehmat Hussain Jaffri, disappointed him with a life sentence instead. If Jaffri had been a fan of 'hangman' just as Musharraf and Imran Khan are, there's a good likelihood our prime minister wouldn't be here today.

The horror of executing a person

To give you an idea of what havoc the death penalty can wreak on people, here's an example:

In October 1992, one Major Arshad Jameel claimed to have located and killed nine Indian agents (in an encounter following a tip-off) in Tando Bahawal, Hyderabad, Sindh. At that time, the then prime minister Nawaz Sharif happened to be in Hyderabad as well. He admired the Major's feat on national television.

Later, it was discovered that the 'encounter' was fake. Jameel was tried and handed the death sentence by a military court.

But up till 1996, the sentencing could not be carried out.

Eventually, the sisters of the two brothers who lost their lives in this 'encounter' set themselves on fire. Only then, in October 1996, was Arshad Jameel finally hanged.

The law requires that a 'first class' magistrate be present during the execution. In the above case, the magistrate nominated was Ghanor Khan Jatoi.

I happened to be familiar with Jatoi through a couple of friends of mine, who knew him closely. According to them, Ghanor Khan Jatoi was a very sensitive man. He tried hard to break free of the job assigned to him, but was eventually forced to witness a man die in front of his eyes.

After the hanging, Jatoi started to grow restless with every passing day. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. Things gradually grew worse and he began to have fits. To escape the ghosts of the hanging, he got himself transferred to Sangarh district, but to no improvement in his health. Eventually, Ghanor Khan Jatoi ended this ordeal by committing suicide.

All this not for someone who administered the hanging, but only witnessed it.

Of course, I don't mean to scare Imran Khan away from hanging people, but only wish to point out that having someone hanged requires a certain tenacity that is genetic. M.G. Chitkara writes in his book Benazir: A profile:

"Tara Maseeh, the man who hanged Bhutto, was given Rs25 for the task. He came from a family of executioners and considered the job an honour for him. Maseeh's father was the person who hanged the liberalist freedom-fighter Bhagat Singh."

The money aside, an honour is an honour. These days, there's a shortage of people fit for the job in India too.

Also read:Indian court upholds death sentence for Delhi gang-rapists

Mahadeb Malik, the executioner from Calcutta, says it's no easy task and requires tremendous courage. Think in terms of how you're essentially killing a person per a pre-planned scheme and without any personal reason or even remorse, says Malik. There's zero room for botching it and sometimes, you even have to deal with the wrath of the person being executed.

The BBC report A country in search of a hangman also says that executioners in India are paid Rs10,000 for every execution. According to the 2013 report of Human Rights Commission of Pakistan, there are as many as 6,218 convicts inside Pakistan's jails waiting to be hanged.

If Pakistan starts paying its executioners Rs10,000 for every hanging, I think the total revenue for killing people could amount to over Rs 6 crore.

Perhaps the government could assign this task to Imran - at the very least, it would serve to fill up the party coffers, if he is up to the task.

Translated by Talha Ahmed from the original in Urdu.

Respected sir,

I am a citizen of the country you founded 67 years ago.

I understand that you did not live long enough to see the shape your dream took on after you left for the hereafter.

Sixty-seven years is a long time; the youth today is the third generation of the one that had thronged your jalsas and served as the main force that converted the demand of a homeland into a successful movement.

A lot has happened since then and I have so many things to share with you but I will limit myself to one question.

What kind of a country did you want to create?

Naive as it may be, sir, let me assure you that it is the very question that I face every single morning. I am severely troubled by it and I assume many of my compatriots are too.

Please, sir, let me explain.

I studied in a public school and learned all my lessons in history, called Pakistan Studies, very well. I learned that the country was created in the name of Islam as the Muslims of the subcontinent did not want to live with Hindus and other non-Muslims.

They wanted to create a new state built on the principles of Islam. I can pick many quotes from your various addresses that conform to this assertion, and most of my friends also believe it to be true.

A country for Muslims built on Islamic principles ostensibly meant that the non-Muslims would have no, or at best, secondary roles in matters of the state and also in the society at large.

Also read:Refiguring Jinnah

Sir, exactly the same has happened.

We have been successful in driving out the Hindus and Sikhs from this, our holy land. That turned out to be the best way to solve the ‘minority problem’ that you delved into so passionately. Some in Sindh, however, have been very stubborn and refuse to leave their ancestral land. Rest assured, a lot of patriotic people are working on this, with a success story making headlines in newspapers every other day.

Only a handful of Sikhs are left in Punjab and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa as they too have been conquered completely. Just days ago, a Sikh boy in Peshawar who was a threat to Pakistan’s ideology was done away with. Similarly, an Ahmadi woman and her two grandchildren in Gujranwala were removed from our road to progress just weeks ago.

You must be wondering how Ahmadis have become a threat for the Islamic state, as you kept good company with them and even appointed one as your Foreign Minister. Let me brief you that it was discovered later in 1974 that Ahmadis were not only non-Muslims but that they were a big threat to the ideological moorings of the nation. Subsequent governments have been taking adequate steps to keep this menace in check and the entire society too, has now volunteered itself to stand guard against any and all violations.

And yes, about the Christians. You might have known some Anglo-Indians practicing this faith. But as the majority of them in Pakistan now consist of Dalits, who have taken refuge in churches, we don’t have to worry much about them. They mostly engage in lowly jobs; we have not been complacent on this front and have ensured that the Christians will not sneak their way into the higher ranks of society. There are many laws and social norms firmly in place to ensure that they don’t dare think beyond what is prescribed for them.

All of these achievements make a lot of my compatriots happy about Pakistan largely achieving what it was meant to.

Though, there are still some items on the agenda left unchecked, like converting the various sects to a purer form of Islam and thus ensuring a more cohesive society. I do think it will not be long before this is achieved soon.

Also read:Would Jinnah have lived as a Shia?

But, then I read your address to the inaugural session of the Constituent Assembly of Pakistan held on 11 August 1947, though it was not part of my Pakistan Studies courses.

I am sure you remember it well and fully as it was supposed to lay the basis of the constitution of Pakistan.

Rendered in Urdu by a Sujag project, PluralPakistan: facebook.com/PluralPakistan

Sir, this address of yours is the main source of my confusion.

You have said here in very clear words that the state of Pakistan will have nothing to do with the religion of its citizens. Did you really think that was possible in a country made in the name of a religion? Isn’t it natural for such a state to be concerned and watchful of the faith of its citizens?

I know of a few westernised friends who think it wasn’t your idea to build the state on the basis of religion. But then there are so many others who have strong arguments proving that since the entire movement was driven by a strong passion for religion, it was but natural to build a faith-oriented state upon its conclusion.

Some unscrupulous elements try to explain away your August 11 address by claiming it to be fake or even delivered to appease some foreign powers. However, knowing you to be an astute, upright, man of principles and great integrity, I cannot imagine you being expedient, that too at the historic moment of the inauguration of the new country’s first parliament.

So, sir, instead of falling for one or the other theory, I decided to ask you the question directly. What kind of state did you want to create?

Should I take your August 11 speech in letter and spirit, or shall I be happy with whatever Pakistan has achieved so far on this front?

Sincerely yours,

Tahir Mehdi
August 11, 2014

Pakistan observes National Minority Day on August 11th.

Related:

• Quaid’s vision to safeguard minorities’ rights being pursued, says Sharif
  
• Predicament of minorities
  
• ‘Minorities, ethnic groups under attack’
  
• Three and a half Ahmadis and a Shia

Special Dawn.Com correspondent Sameena Yahya brings you live updates from the ‘long marches’ planned today in Lahore and Islamabad:

... yes, Khalid, what can you tell us about the situation in Lahore?

Well, Sameena, the situation in Lahore is pretty tense. There are containers everywhere and cops and Rangers and people are dying, children are starving and women are wailing!

Khalid, can you tell us any specific details about the on-ground conditions there?

Well, Sameena, the government today claimed to have contained the situation ... but what can I say, Sameena, people are dying, children are starving and women are wailing ...

Okay, Khalid, so tell us a bit more about the police operation in Lahore today ...

This is a conspiracy, Sameena, a big conspiracy! People are dying, children are starving and women are wailing ...

Take it easy, Khalid. Please calm down. Give us some news of the people who have gathered there for Tahirul Qadri and his party, PAT’s rally.

Sameena, what can I say. Today our cameraman, Shakir, and I visited a group of PAT workers camped at the site of the rally and all I saw was sorrow, grief, pain and utter anger!

Anger against whom Khalid?

Anger against the government, the police, the Americans, the Indians, and the people of the Ivory Coast!

Ivory Coast?

Yes, and against Tutsi and Hutu clans of Rwanda as well, Sameena.

What are you talking about, Khalid?

What else can one talk about these days, Sameena? People are dying, children are starving and women are wailing ...”

Khalid, remember you are a journalist, so please try to remain calm and objective.

Calm? Calm? I am a Muslim first, a proud Arab and ...

Arab? But you are a Pakistani, Khalid.

Yes, but my ancestors were Arabs.

Right. Of course. Anyway, now, let's stick to the topic. Tell us how many people have gathered for the rally so far?

Not rally, Sameena, a march.

Yes, I mean march

Not march, Sameena. Laang march.

Yes, laang march, I mean, long march.

Laang march, Sameena, Laang march!

Okay, Khalid, if you insist. Now please tell our readers about the interviews you did with some of the people there.

We met this old woman who had come on foot all the way from Ottawa.

Really? From Ottawa in Canada? So what did she say?

She was abusing and cursing the government, the Americans, the Indians and the Buddhists of Ceylon.

She was?

Yes, she was.

Did she know any Urdu?

No, she spoke Arabic.

Is she a Canadian-Arab?

No, Pakistani-Canadian.

So she knew Urdu as well then?

No.

Why not? Was she born in an Arab country and raised In Canada?

No, she was born in Pakistan and raised in Canada. She’s never been to an Arabic country. But she says she does go to Dubai off and on during the shopping festivals there.

I see. And she is a PAT supporter?

Actually she is a PTI supporter. A big Imran Khan fan.

Okay. So what did she tell you?

She said every Pakistani gathered here wanted to crush America, crush India, crush Uganda! And Najam Sethi too.

Not the extremists?

They are our brothers, Sameena.

What about the sisters?

Huh?

Never mind. Ask her what she thinks about those who are bombing mosques, shrines, markets and ...

Lies, Sameena! They are really nice guys, standing up to the Americans, the Indians, and the Mongols!

Mongols?

Yes, Sameena, Mongols.

What are you talking about, Khalid?

No, what are you talking about?

Excuse me?

No, excuse me!

Khalid?

Sameena?

Khalid, we are reporting live for a respected website …

Website? Internet is a western conspiracy to brainwash and corrupt young Pakistani minds!

But you work for one!

I do?

Yes!

Oh.

So, now can we have some real news from you then? Can you tell us if the government is planning to stop the people from marching and then joining Imran Khan’s rally in Islamabad?

Damn. Why didn't you tell me?

Err ... you're the reporter, Khalid.

I am?

Yes.

Oh. But, damn them, nevertheless! This is a well thought-out plan to crush the rights of those who want to save Pakistan. I’m telling you, Sameena, Najam Sethi is behind all this. I can't take it anymore...

Khalid, what are you doing? Why are you tearing off your shirt?

This is an outrage, Salma.

My name's Sameena.

Yes, Sakeena.

Sameena!

Right, Parveen! I just want to tell readers, I can't take this injustice anymore! Crush America! Crush India! Crush Iran!

But Iran is a Muslim country, Khalid.

It is?

Yes.

Then crush Nepal! Enough is enough!

Khalid? Khalid, are you there? We seem to have lost contact with our Lahore correspondent. Anyway, let's now talk to our correspondent, Bashir Ahmed, reporting from the where PTI is about to start its long march in Islamabad. Yes, Bashir.

Yes, Baajee.

You can call me Sameena. What is the situation like there?

Pretty bad, Sameena. People are dying, children are starving and women are wailing!

My God! Why? Did they clash with the military troops posted there?

No Sameena. Imran has pulled his left calf muscle.

So?

So, I tell you, Sameena, this is a conspiracy by the Elders of Zion funding Godless multinationals and pharmaceutical companies against PTI! This is an outrage.

Can we be a tad more objective, Nazeer?

Bashir!

Right, Wazir. Any statement by Imran at the moment?

Yes, he has blamed Najam Sethi and Misbahul Haq for his pulled calf muscle.

Misbah, the Pakistan cricket captain?

No, Misbah, the Pakistan kabadi champion. Of course, Misbah the Pakistan cricket captain, Sameena!

You don’t have to get rude, Bashir. I’m really not that much into sports. Tell us more.

A group of young PTI kids are now burning the effigy of Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif.

Are they chanting any slogans?

Yes. I’ll bring my phone near them so you can hear the slogans as well …

Traitor, paid journalist, anti-Pakistan, oh you bastaaa our khan greatest tsunami march wipe out corruption revolution inquilaab in 90 days shut up your face ….!

But Nawaz is not a journalist …

He isn’t. Those slogans were for me. Hehe.

So they are burning Nawaz’s effigy but abusing journalists?

Yes.

Any statement given by Nawaz yet?

Not yet. But a press statement from the Information Ministry says that the PM is enjoying mangoes at his Saudi residence in Lahore.

Lahore is in Pakistan, Bashir.

It is?

Yes.

Damn. Why wasn’t I told?

It seems neither was the Information Ministry.

You are right. Because the press statement was also in Arabic. In fact I have it with me here. Its heading says: Bress Statement of Al-Brime Khalifah Minister Al-Bakistania wal Shiekh Nawaz bin Sharif-ul-Jeddah Marhaba Marhaba Emirates Airline EK-450 Is Ready for Boarding …

That’s a very strange statement, Bashir.

This is a very strange government, Tania.

Sameena.

Right, Nouseen. Another very interesting thing is happing here. Some folks are now raising pro-Zardari slogans …

Really?

Naaa. Just joking. Hehe.

Bashir, please be serious. Can you talk to some people there?

Yes. I have with me an old woman who has come on foot all the way from London. She says she wants to crush Najam Sethi and Nawaz Sharif and colour her hair purple like Shireen Mazari.

Wow. Can you give her the phone so we can hear what she is saying?

Yes. Here …

Recounting, rigging, corruption, tsunami, revolution, people are dying, children are starving and women are wailing…

A complex long game is finally afoot.

After testing the waters in March and then again over the last few months, it seems the push for the big revamp is finally happening. I'd say get ready for some fundamental, long-term changes to the political system now.

A lot more is going on than what meets the eye. This complex game has long-term ramifications for the Pakistani state and will shape the future for the next few decades at least. The cycle of events which has been kicked off is not unfamiliar, but looks substantially upgraded from its previous versions.

We are in for a systematic shift from the current political system to a sustained and curated political system which will culminate in a whole new set of players at the national chessboard.

Simply put, we'll have new political parties with a new cadre of politicians created to fit the requirements of the next 20-30 years.

Also read:Herald Exclusive: Divided they rule

The 2013 elections really disappointed in terms of the change they were supposed to usher in. Existing political parties, it was hoped, would reform themselves and evolve into actors able to stand the test of time; groom future leaders from within; strengthen the democratic system.

What we ended up with was far from that.

Strengthening democratic norms took a back seat and parties went back to power politics, ignoring the needs of the country.

The PPP and PML-N quickly reverted to their royalty-based model i.e. you would not be a leader unless you were born one, while the PTI chose to remain a cult of personality, instead of transforming into a proper political voice.

As for the MQM, it is and most likely will always remain a proxy for certain powers, so expecting democratic ideals from them is just misplaced optimism.

The 30-month plan

It was at this point that the powers that be launched their ambitious project to do what they had last done in the early 80s i.e. changing the fundamental dynamics of future politics in Pakistan and rewrite the rules of the game.

The approach was simple: review the government's performance after 12 months; if the existing staff of politicians realise their shortcomings and evolve, then let things be, but if they stick to the same path, then proceed to the 30-month time limit plan.

In this case, it seems the 30-month limit was decided upon. In a post I wrote in July, I mentioned that we have 18 to 24 months left before this is wrapped up for a fundamental game change. That timeline was based on the 30-month time limit.

But before I explain what the changes that we are headed for are, it is pertinent to understand how and why we got here, how we'll proceed and where we will end up.

We got here quite simply due to the inept governance of the PML-N, no two ways about that.

I have written consistently since March on the way PML-N is shooting itself in the foot. Burying their heads like ostriches, PML-N consistently ignored the major political problems it faced to focus on economy and building infrastructure.

The hallmark for the last one year has been their characteristic indecision, the biggest example being the months and months of dilly-dallying before the eventual launch of the operation against TTP. Add to this internal differences within the PML-N, and the story writes itself.

Meanwhile, the PTI chose to ignore the province it won to focus on the province it lost. Maybe it is age or trauma or just the Pervaiz Rasheeds equivalents in the PTI who convinced Imran Khan he should be prime minister when we all know that even if every controversial constituency were to be awarded to him, it still wouldn't be enough to land Immy Bhai in the PM office.

As for the PPP, it was holed up in their strongholds of Sindh and Washington DC, quietly biding their time, preparing the launch of the second of Benazir’s kids.

Against this backdrop, the powers that be started with getting their toolkit in order.

Imran and Qadri were activated to create a ruckus big enough to weaken the government. At no time are any of these two individuals serious contenders for any leadership role in Pakistan. They are mere tools to get a job done.

Ideally, these two would have created enough commotion over time to force the government on the back foot and bring the business of governance to a halt ala Thailand. It would have taken about six months to get to that point.

From that point onwards, it would have been a discussion on how to address this problem and the need for a unity government. That would fail miserably again and given the crisis was not being resolved, public frustration levels would peak and calls for a stable government get louder as the energy and jobs crisis got worse with the economic meltdown, all due to perpetual political instability.

Happening today:Islamabad may be sealed tonight

If the ideal plan hasn't happened, something like it has, as the ruckus of Imran and Qadri has managed to bring things to this point.

Battle for Punjab

It is crucial to realise that all of this plays out mostly in Punjab, as that is the true bone of contention here.

The battle is to get Punjab out of one-party rule and make it fair game again just like it was in the late 80s and 90s. The opposition would kick in to action and we would end up with a national stability government.

The stability government will be technocrat heavy and will essentially rewrite the rule book for future politics. By this time new people would be scouted and thrust into the public eye for a good two year period. By then the Sharifs, Imran Khan and Zardari would be too old to be anything more than a shell of their former selves.

Newer faces with newer party alignments will be there – like the early 80s – to lead this country for the next two to three decades. No Sharif, Khan, Qadri, Bhutto or Chaudhry would politically make it to the other side for the simple reason that they would have too much baggage.

Imran would have too many failed attempts, Sharifs and Bhuttos would have too many attempts, Chaudhrys would have Monis and Qadri would be back in Canada.

That's where we are headed.

The powers that be will never directly seize control nor will they ever really leave the political system alone. Those hoping for a clear-cut solution are stuck in the past and need to update their fetishes.

I once hoped our political parties would have cared for the system enough to become professionally run organisations as opposed to family-run businesses, but I guess that was unrealistic on my part.

Had that happened, we would not be entering this nearly three-year long transition period.

Pakistan needs patriots, not party loyalists.

Pakistan needs democracy, not autocracy.

But most of all, we need governance, not just promises of governance.

So here we are, repeating history, hoping for a different result yet again.

They are youngish, green, and lacking experience. They are the new members of Pakistan’s Planning Commission.

While their relatively inexperienced past has attracted controversy, I am more interested in what they will accomplish in their new roles in the future.

The Planning Commission last week unveiled its latest inductees, including the new chief economist. The new intake comprises the young and the old blood. This is a big change from the past where members of the Commission were mostly retirees, hanging on to the public sector, which instead needed fresh ideas and young minds.

Already, civil service’s economist group is gearing up to challenge the appointment of a young chief economist, who is not from the trusted, and rather rusted, group of senior public sector economists.

It is slim pickings when it comes to talent in Pakistan.

Herlad Exculsive:Poor measures

The lack of career opportunities, security, and public goods, such as water supply and electricity, are among the reasons for the flight of talent from Pakistan.

The same factors have prevented reversing the brain drain. In such circumstances, hoping to attract talent of the same caliber as Professors Kaushik Basu and Raghurm Rajan, the two world renowned economists who returned to serve in India, is wishful thinking.

Instead of looking at the past accomplishments of the young inductees, why not focus on what they will do in the future? They cannot be any worse than those experienced ones who reigned over the Planning Commission in the past.

The appointment of the new Chief Economist, Dr. Muhammad Nadeem Javaid, who is an Assistant Professor of Economics at the Karachi School for Business and Leadership, has attracted controversy. The public sector economists, who have aspirations for the coveted position, may launch a legal challenge to block the appointment of the new Chief Economist. They should know, however, that counting years of service as proof of accomplishment and excellence is flawed logic and bad economics.

Also read:Failing to plan the Planning Commission

It is true that Dr. Javaid is young and does not have extensive macroeconomics experience. His webpage lists only one publication, coauthored (probably) with his dissertation supervisor. Not much more evidence of scholarship for Dr. Javaid is listed in EconLit or similar indices. Some have alerted to his lack of experience in dealing with the IMF and other global lenders.

I, however, view this as a plus.

Countless public servants proudly boast in their CVs of how they have helped Pakistan accumulate billions of dollars in debt. Few, if any, can boast of how they have helped the nation get rid of the debt.

Other inductees have similar limitations. Dr Naeem uz Zafar, who obtained a doctorate in Economics from Northern Illinois University in 2010, has been appointed the lead for social sector development. Dr. Zafar, also an assistant professor like Dr. Javaid, has even fewer publications to his credit.

Malik Ahmed Khan, reportedly an MBA from Said School of Business at Oxford University, is another young inductee, who has been put in charge of infrastructure development and regional connectivity. He also lacks experience needed for the role. His LinkedIn page lists only one recent relevant experience, where he worked for the City of Toronto before he earned an MBA from Oxford. Other experience listed is that of being self-employed, student intern, or brief stints not lasting a year. Given the career trajectory of graduates from the Said School of Business, Mr. Khan’s post-MBA career does not demonstrate the same elevated global success.

In an earlier blog, I had argued for fresh blood to be inducted to the Planning Commission. However, I advocated for young bright minds that possessed relevant experience.

In fairness, not every new inductee is young. Dr Syed Tahir Hijazi, for instance, has been appointed to monitor governance. He is the Vice Chancellor of the University of Punjab with several publications to his credit. However, his CV boasts of producing “over 50 journal papers in one year”, which amounts to a paper published per week. This is scary, to say the least because not even Nobel Laureates in economics, such as Joseph Stiglitz, demonstrated such proficiency with intellectual productivity.

It is important that the credentials of civil servants holding the highest office stand up to scrutiny.

Explore:A network of networks needed for Planning Commission

At the end of the day, these individuals are entrusted with the task of setting priorities for the nation. This is, though, true more in theory than in practice.

Several, if not most, decisions of significance have been made by the Prime Minister without one knowing what kind of planning went into those decisions.

The decision to induct new airplanes in PIA or the agreement with the Chinese to set up 14 mostly coal-fired power plants are examples of deciding first and thinking later or perhaps never.

The Planning Commission is intended to prevent such ad hoc decision-making by offering cogent advice, which the Executive has the prerogative to ignore.

Still, the need for fearless and able civil servants, who would not shy from writing the dissenting note, is being felt more so today than ever before.

If the new inductees serve with honour and integrity, the nation will remember their service with gratitude. Otherwise, they will join the long list of civil servants who would have nothing more on their CVs than how much debt they piled on the already indebted nation.

It seems the Prime Minister’s offer for a judicial commission has won him a whole bunch of new fans overnight. Many of these ‘pro-democracy’ enthusiasts have started saying that if Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) now decides to go ahead with its ‘Azadi March’, it will be a farce.

Talk about short memories. Talk about falling for a tried-and-failed politician’s promise for the nth time.

When will we learn?

Let us try to understand why thousands are marching to the capital tomorrow.

This march is about liberty — the freedom that rightfully belongs to the citizens but has been systematically snatched away by corrupt and greedy authorities at every level.

Compromise after compromise; settling for the bare minimum; comforting ourselves with whatever leftovers are thrown our way are just some examples of the visceral conditioning of people who are at the mercy of terrible governance.

The day finally came for the servility end. That day was May 11, 2013.

The elections were the occasion when the public flocked out in millions to finally vote for change. But unfortunately, they were compromised, and people compromised their hopes and aspirations along with it. Many of us believed some form of 'democracy' was good enough for now.

PTI, however, refused to compromise, and stood up to fight.

Many think the PTI did not raise the point of electoral reform in the Parliament, but it did in two separate resolutions. Raising the issue in the election tribunals as well as on the media, the party demanded a tiny favour (read ‘due rights’) from the legal bodies of the country: A recount of four constituencies – a minute sample of the whole exercise.

It was not granted.

Fifteen months passed and nothing was done, but reports of irregularities kept coming in.

We saw Chaudhry Nisar, the country’s interior minister losing a seat; a “typo” in Nawaz Sharif’s vote count; two reports from NADRA on NA-256 and the non-use of magnetized ink in two constituencies.

PTI’s white paper provided evidence of the rigging in detail.

Check out:Running out of options

I understand how one can argue that PTI supporters are sore losers, but this is a question of taking a principled stand outside of who won or lost the elections.

The FAFEN report called the elections ‘relatively fair’.

Is it so wrong to argue that relatively fair isn’t good enough? That inaction isn’t good enough?

Cover-up tactics, denial of a recount, lining up containers to stop a peaceful democratic protest, cutting off fuel for the same reason, Section 144, Article 245…it just doesn’t stop.

What has this ‘relatively fair’ government got to hide?

Now they’ve agreed to investigation, and people seem to think the judicial commission should shut Imran Khan up.

Gentle folks, let me make note of two things:

1. This commission is a victory for the PTI, not a slap in the face. It was only last night after a whole year of dilly dallying that the PML-N finally agreed to an investigation. And it was not until the past few weeks that they agreed to a recount. What does that mean? It means that it took nothing less than months of agitation and finally the threat of marching to the capital for this government to budge. All this while, our rulers were hoping to wiggle their way into a compromise again. They thought if the motorways and the metrobuses and the trains kept chugging along, the thorny issues would eventually get buried.

2. Secondly, let’s not get blown away by this proposal from our premier. Do we honestly expect a fair and impartial judicial commission under this government? These ‘commissions’ have very rarely been ‘impartial’ in our history, let alone under a government willing to use brutal police force to suppress anyone fighting its actions.

Know more:[Azadi] march madness: One day to go

The march is on and the aim is simple: to protest against the irregularities which occurred in the polls 2013 elections and demand that the PM give way to a caretaker setup and fresh elections.

I believe that the current government is based on a faulty mandate. Their actions show something fishy is going on, and only a setup based on technocrats can now be trusted to deliver.

I don’t want a government where friends and family are members of the cabinet. I want a government where the unlawful killings of people are investigated without political pressure. I want a setup where goons are not let free because they were affiliated with the politically powerful.

I do not want a police force that acts like private security guards. I want focus on education, health, and financial equality instead of metrobuses, trains, and non-functioning power plants.

I do not support military intervention or anarchy. I do not aim to riot on August 14.

I just want the system to work.

For me, Appi’s death, was more than just the death of an eminent personality. Appi (Anita Ghulam Ali for others) was family; she was like a grandmother, after my own passed away in 2005. And she held a place in our lives that no one else can ever fill.

Appi became a part of our family through my grandmother, Umme Salma Zaman, a renowned educationalist and the principal of Sir Syed Girls’ College. They were both deeply involved in the teachers’ movement, especially during the repressive martial law years.

Those were the days when teachers used to take to streets all over Pakistan, some of them being arrested or beaten up by the police. However, they proved their strength and held hard to their principles, in spite of heavy odds.

It was in that era of activism that my grandmother and Appi became good friends, bonding over mutual values. After my grandmother's passing, Appi was the one we turned to, to confide in and seek out advice. It was with her that we now shared our achievements and concerns.

Although we were aware of her illness, her death still came as a shock. It is difficult to write about someone whose presence you have taken for granted all your life. Appi was always here. It's unimaginable that one day she won't be.

For me, Appi radiated humour and friendliness, persistence, determination and a will as strong as steel – unbent and resolute.

She never involved herself in politics at the office, and yet climbed up the ladder of success, all the way to the peak.

Perhaps she will be most memorable for her attitude towards people. It was free of any prejudice against any group whatsoever; never once tinged with any socio-economic arrogance. It impressed me as a child, when her car used to roll into our driveway with Appi sitting right in front with the driver. I had never seen anything like that, especially with a woman. But Appi being Appi, she never even gave it a thought.

The first time she fell down and broke her leg (she had many similar accidents in the following years), everyone got worried. But despite the pain, Appi could not be stopped from going back to work. She never walked without a walking cane again. Arthritis too had slowed the use of her hands, but she always did her own writing and never once complained.

In her dealings with people, she was bold and courageous, never afraid of being direct with them.

We were in fits of laughter when one day she told us how General Musharraf had called her up and begged her to rejoin the Cabinet which she had quit. While most other people would chew their lips and be polite, Appi actually told him off for the ongoing corruption in the Sindh Cabinet and refused to be part of it anymore. This was after she was offered a ministry – I have yet to see anyone refuse a ministry.

Her anecdotes of meeting political personalities were so compelling, most of the time we'd be amazed at how she got away with it every time. However, what's even more amazing is the fact that even though Appi would be direct with many such politicians, they always respected her. That's because the power she exerted was not through money or position but through honesty.

When I was a child, she'd keep me engaged in creative and imaginative pursuits all the time; making handy-crafts or looking at pictures or something else. She encouraged me to write down anything out of the ordinary. When I went on a trip to Manora Island once, she helped me cut out pictures and words from a newspaper and paste them onto a single sheet to make my picture story. I still have that and to this day, look upon its brilliance with utter awe.

Appi was also a great lover of animals, having grown up surrounded by farm animals. She loved dogs the most and was our chief procurer of dogs. The dogs loved her back too, jumping in excitement every time she visited.

Today, when I look back at her importance and her history, with regard to her work, and then remember the time I received an award on her behalf, I swell with pride. It was a women’s achievement award and I still remember the way people responded to her name when it was announced. There was so much applause that they had to wait for quite some time for it to stop. Many people had stood up in respect.

Appi’s personality was so dynamic and her ideas so progressive that she could not help but shape the lives around her.

At work especially she always wore very low key, conservative clothes, never anything loud or flamboyant, an important aspect for today’s working woman. She always had her shirt buttoned up discreetly to the neck, her gray hair tied up neatly in a bun, and walked with the regal grace of a queen. Despite her severe joint problems and spinal pain, she had a poise that was something to behold, but never arrogant.

Appi was the wonderful, lively lady who smiled and laughed all the time, who spoke her mind, who had such interesting stories to tell us; who had sympathy and tenderness for others, love for learning and teaching, and was a prototype of the ideal mentor for just about anyone.

It is unfortunate that in spite of her contributions, the media did not deem it important enough to profile her for the nation.

Her passing away was limited only to a few column inches of newspaper space, or Facebook statuses. Media attention was primarily focused on Tahirul Qadri’s arrival in Lahore, and Imran Khan’s upcoming long march, and maybe rightly so.

For in Pakistan, does anyone really care about teachers and free thinkers?

Perhaps in the long run, media coverage will not really matter, because it is the people who will remember her – the people who have been moved by her, who have been touched by her.

For them, she will always be alive.

Standing on a dusty street as a hot dry wind rolled through, pulling all the moisture from wherever it lay, I talked to a phal-wallah (fruit seller) standing next to his cart as he tried, generally in vain, to protect his produce from an army of flies.

While earnestly staring at me, his eyes filled with frustration and anger, he asked me, “You know what, smarty-pants?” and continued to explain his analysis of life for Pakistanis at the bottom of the economic and social hierarchy.

I sell fruit. Bananas, oranges, apples, apricot, plums and grapes on a pushcart along the main, broken road in a town. The sewerage system is damaged and the drains leak, so I wade through gutter water every day. This road is always crowded with people and flies. Flies are everywhere: On my nose, on the fruit and even in the water that I use to clean the fruit with. It feels as if there is a decent and acceptable nexus among eatables, customers and insects alike.

He continued, “Anyhow, what counts most is the price of the fruit, the cheaper the better!"

And yes, it’s not a lucrative business; I will never be filthy rich. I go to the Sabzi Mandi (vegetable market) early morning and stand behind a circled group of people, peeping over their shoulders looking for an affordable price to buy some cartons of fruits.

Also read:Official apathy, extortion go together in Sabzi Mandi

Then, I sell it all day long until either the fruit is gone or the sun has set. Often, the sun sets earlier than the bulk of my fruit is sold. There is hardly any profit except that thankfully, I am able to feed my family to survive till the next day. They will simply starve if I don’t work even one day.

Never mind for strikes, protests, rallies and closures.

I have been selling fruit since I was five years old. First, I assisted my father and now I have my own cart. I pay rent and commission for this spot - in kind, as well as cash.

Since the day I started to work, I have been listening to clichéd risks and the same old rhetoric of the bleak situation and melancholic discourse that ‘Pakistan is facing an extremely existential threat’. ‘It is a matter of now or never’. ‘Do or die’. It is appalling and nerve racking, but you know what, fella?

Nothing happens.

No one does anything, poor people die every day here and then, the next incident occurs. We are used to it in the same fashion as a fly sits on fruits and the consumers don’t mind consuming it. It is usual, normal and nothing out of the ordinary.

Look, we fought wars with India, big and small, and the latest was Kargil. It was an existential threat. During Bangladesh’s war for freedom, we lost miserably and it was also a matter of saving Pakistan. During the 80s, fighting a war as an ally of America was also an endeavor to keep Pakistan safe. And, it was a state of now or never when Pakistan conducted the five nuclear tests.

During economic sanctions, people were told to maintain 'high self-esteem' as the country was going through tough times. While taking over the country by casting out elected Prime Ministers, dissolving constitutions and banning political activities, the dictators told people that it was the only solution as the country was experiencing rampant incompetency, corruption and internal, as well external threats.

During 9/11, it was so common to hear from almost every politician and columnist that this was the real existential threat as America announced war on terror.

Now, our genuine home grown picture is this. Religious extremism has devastated the roots of civilisation and shattered the concept of a dreamland for Pakistanis as forecasted by its founders.

Also read:An open letter to Quaid-e-Azam, on Minorities Day

Ahmadis are not safe. Doctors, teachers, businessmen and even small children are killed in broad daylight. Witness the recent horror of Gujranwala, for instance. Look at Gojra! Can you imagine such a shock? Houses were set on fire and human flesh was roasted.

Christians live in Pakistan as alien denizens. They fear for their lives and their churches are bombed. Anyone dare to speak is killed, be he the governor of the province or the federal minister for minority affairs. Not to talk of Hindus. Temples are blazed; Hindu businessmen are harassed and kidnapped for ransom while their young daughters and sisters are forcefully converted.”

Have you seen the writing on the walls? It’s not funny. I am serious.

It’s not like graffiti art as decorated in western countries. Instead, it reads ‘Shia Shia, kafir Shia’, inscribed on walls in towns and cities. Look at the Hazaras and the way they are massacred in Quetta. You must know many people who protest against these killings, describing them as the Shia massacre?

All of that? It is just the tip of the iceberg.

Nineteen school children died in a van due to a gas cylinder blast in Gujarat. Two brothers were beaten to death and then hanged at the water tank for public viewing in Sialkot. Cannibals ate the flesh of deceased people in Bukhar. Children are auctioned to pay off the family debt.

Twelve innocent people died in the Model Town tragedy. The police and Gullu Butt enjoyed the death celebration, while dancing and embracing each other. Thirty-five young boys lost their lives while swimming at a beach in Karachi. Women are stripped naked, buried alive and killed in the name of honour across the entire country, and, last but not the least, Balochistan is a land in Pakistan less known to its own country fellows. Killings, dumping of bodies, disappearances are the order of the day.

A young, metrosexual and imported outfit-wearing man like you must be worried about how Pakistan is going through yet another existential threat but the situation on ground is far worse. There is even more hue and cry now; pseudo promises and the relentlessly ruthless treatment of ordinary people because of the bottomless bellies of our corrupt politicians. We endure the pain of living every day.

We can’t commit suicide but dying once is much better than seeing this part of the soul die every day.

Also read:The making of Pakistan in view of its identity

Look at me, boy and look at my goad (traditional Sindhi fabric worn around the waist). Can you see the age of the cloth? Its color has faded. It is torn at all the edges and has holes in it. I wear it everyday, cold, hot, humid or raining. I can’t afford to buy a new one; I would much rather buy a dress for my wife and daughter, if I could.

Who is responsible for what has happened, is happening, or will happen in Pakistan?

Who is responsible for the majority of its poor people who live miserable lives?

This is a century that people most cherish for the human developments and technological achievements. Where does Pakistan stand?

This is what I think. It’s my point of view, which I share amongst the fruit sellers, brick kiln workers, street sweepers, donkey cart riders and daily wage labourers. We are the majority and we are in a miserable and unenviable condition.

You may be thinking what the PTI ‘Azadi’ March or the PAT ‘Revolution March’ will bring? Will it derail democracy or create yet another existential threat?

We have nothing to lose except the daily wage.

We expect to get nothing, but may starve until the market is open after the Tsunami or inqilaab come.

This is our fact.

Only a few weeks ago, Pakistan seemed to be swept away in a wave of outrage over the Gaza conflict. Regardless of what the opinions were, there was at least a sense of solidarity.

But after all the physical and social media protests, there is a new topic that is now taking over that Pakistan: the Azadi march.

Imran Khan’s promise of inqilab has forged a deep divide in the nation. As everything in this highly charged country, the divide is not simply between those for or against this proclaimed “walk towards freedom”.

The mesmerised followers of Tahirul Qadri may deserve some attention too, for their dramatic proclamations of their own plans for the government, if nothing else.

Then there are those who want the army, in all its glamour and glory, to come charging in and save the country yet again from the grasp of incapable politicians.

Know more:August 14: Capital braces for Azadi march as Pakistan celebrates independence

Among all this hullabaloo, many appear to overlook the significance of the Azadi march — and whatever political shake-up it promises to cause — being scheduled for no other day than August 14 — the national Youm-e-Azadi.

Although the phrase, Youm-e-Azadi is reiterated by anchors and politicians over and over, we as a nation, seem to have completely forgotten the true value of this day i.e. solidarity, independent of our cultural, religious and political beliefs.

As we live through the August 14 of this year, the atmosphere of fear, violence and repression is a worrisome sign for where we stand as a society and where we are headed.

Instead of commemorating the endless struggle and the selfless sacrifices of our forefathers, we seem to be consumed by the politics of today and whatever hollow-ringing promises there are on offer.

When did we get so obsessed with political theatrics, and when will we finally get over them?

Doesn't the true value of freedom lie in being united instead of battling out meaningless and fickle political loyalties?

Imagine an independence day of divisions, with each faction carrying their own flags rather than the national flag. Think about the possibility of chaos and innocent blood being shed, all in our devotion towards misguided politicians.

A deep introspection is needed. Surely the 'political self' in this nation must be nurtured enough to look beyond melodramatic statements that call for “regaining our freedom”.

Also read:Powerful women of the Pakistan movement

Politicians have always feasted on our vulnerability in falling for their acts, and despite politics badly infesting our lives for long, we still haven't evolved enough to snatch back our everyday joys from them. How much longer will we let politics mess our social fabric up and redefine our existence?

Already political associations have become a defining element of social relations, especially since the pre-2013 election period. Friendships are being made and broken, physical and verbal abuse occurring, and individuals starting to identify themselves primarily based on their political affiliations. This has led to society becoming dysfunctional and hindering the development of the democratic process.

One of the fundamental flaws of democracy in Pakistan is our nascent ability to attach our social existence to an ideology, and then make it a matter of life and death.

No discourse and no evidence is strong enough to change that attachment simply because we feel it would be a loss of pride to do so.

Explore:How Pakistanis see their country today

Latching ourselves onto a belief or individual or institution as a means to give our social existence a meaning is an innate characteristic of people in our region, and this has often led to widespread exploitation of the masses.

If we are to truly move towards stability and prosperity, we must learn to divorce our identity from our political beliefs. Only then can we collectively stand for what is right, rather than standing for what our pride asks of us.

We must return to celebrating August 14 as our independence day, when all of Pakistan was liberated on the back of a collective struggle, and not trivialise that momentous achievement by linking it with a march to topple a democratically elected government.

Until such occasions are able to bind us together once again, our solidarity will be confined to international events only.

As I was leaving for Britain for the first time, many years ago, one of the Imams that I had held various discussions with, advised me:

“Baita there is a class of people who do not believe in any god. Do not hold a discussion with them, ever!”

“But why?,” I asked.

Maulvi sahib explained his rationale: “Because they can potentially diminish your faith with their illogical and audacious questions.”

To that I couldn't help but retort: “Are you so uncertain of the strength of my faith? What if I were able to endow a better understanding of Islam upon them and thus bring them a notch closer to my own religion?”

Maulvi sahib did not have an answer. I took that as a sign that he had understood the logical fallacy in his argument.

Explore:Political Islam: Theory and reality

Thereafter, I spent years abroad, and had countless arguments with my ‘atheist friends’, returning a ‘ghazi’ nevertheless.

The apprehension of the Imam Sahib however, was not a sole occurrence. This dilemma prevails within Muslims by and large.

Take for instance the much derided Satanic Verses by Rushdie — whose venom was testified to by Ayatollah of Iran — alleging that it had the potential to damage the faith of Muslim society.

I had the fortune (or misfortune rather, given its opaque metaphors and stale story line), to read the book.

Guess what, I am still as much a Muslim as I was before reading the book.

In the same vein, one of the fundamental lessons debaters are taught is that there are two ways of polishing an argument: looking at it from eleven different angles, or holding the same discussion at eleven different instances.

By the end of it, one is left with the bare truth which can be discussed, argued or defended at any platform. Conviction of one's arguments comes as an accompanying advantage.

Also read:The Pakistan Ideology: History of a grand concoction

Herein lies the critical problem ailing Muslim society – we are afraid of discourse; frightened that our faith may desert us; terrified that we may become influenced by the rhetoric ‘emanating from other quarters’.

It is invariably this refusal to indulge in discussion which prevents us from becoming more reasonable in our own arguments.

This has resulted in most practicing Muslims in our part of the world becoming ignorant to the very ethos of religion. Principles are sacrificed for the sake of literal interpretations; pride and ego remain high despite the uncovering of ankles; the beard is guarded but modesty is not; and ablution is performed five times a day but the streets are 'religiously' littered with rubbish.

I have had the chance to make acquaintance of at least three Europeans who converted to Islam in the recent years, after they did their own fair amount of research. Let me assure you, they are far better at following the principles of Islam than most born-Muslims, who consider themselves entitled to all the blessings of the world for their faith despite knowing virtually nothing about it.

Bear in mind, the lack of discussion does not just breed ignorant Muslims, it also gives birth to a violent class as well.

Read on:Exploring extremism

If Islam were a religion of mindless compliance, it would not have emphasised discernment so much; the concept of Ijtihad, is the idea of Muslims being an enlightened nation, aware of the teachings they are expected to follow and the rationale behind each.

The following verse of Iqbal acknowledges faith as being beyond the understandable, but still implies that faith is a journey that has to be traversed through reason.

Guzar ja aqal se agay k yeh noor,Chiragh e rah hai manzil nahi hai

[Translation: Move on and beyond reason, for reason is the torch for this journey but not the destination.]

One is compelled into reiterating the same point ever so often: A more modern approach to the understanding of religion needs to be undertaken. Aversion to discussion should be shunned, even on topics as controversial as blasphemy laws.

A progressive society can well defend its ideologies, a regressive one is reduced to the annals of history.

The choice is ours.

In my previous blog post, I had talked about how profitability and creativity are becoming mutually exclusive terms on modern TV in Pakistan. Not to say that everything on TV is atrocious, but there is enough under the cons heading to create imbalance.

In this post, I wanted to rewind to the golden age of our TV history — our shows in the '70s; an age where we had shows to binge watch end to end; an age that gave us our legends and set benchmarks for quality entertainment prevalent to this very day.

The era produced content like the international award winning Akkar Bakkar, a show designed to educate children. Roomi by Haseena Moin was a drama which served as an almost academic study on the intricacies of troubled family life, shown through the eyes of young children.

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Our very first sketch comedy shows included Sach Gupp and Taal Matol. We had Khuda Ki Basti, Kahani ki Talaash, Lakhon Mein 3, the iconic Jazeera and Platform were other examples of TV reaching an art form.

We also had game shows like Kasoti and Sheeshay ka Ghar— a quiz show with cash prizes and a pioneer of its age. Illustrious musical education shows like Kaliyon ki Maala, Sung Sung Chalain and, of course, the legendary Zia Mohyeddin Show.

So, why did I just rattle off a list of shows that a vast majority has not even heard of?

Well, because they shaped entire generations and are now lost to us; some in parts, others completely. Khuda ki Basti had to be shot again as it was extremely popular but the original master record was lost; certain parts had to be recast because the actors had moved on. Numerous episodes of the original airing of Zia Mohyeddin show are now only a part of a few faint memories. Even the second airing is not fully available to public.

Everything on TV once used to be worth looking forward to. Even with a guaranteed audience and no discernible competition, they went the extra mile to ensure value. There was a broadcast mandate in effect, which required a new program cycle after every 13 episodes. These were not just shows, they were life experiences.

'Were', being the operative word. This piece of our history was ravaged cruelly by time, without countermeasures duly enacted. We didn’t lose all of it, but enough to leave it incomplete.

Read on:Zindagi Gulzar Hai: Pakistani drama serials win hearts in India

I was itching to find out where this treasure trove of a history went, so I talked to a senior manager at PTV. He took me back to the time PTV was founded, in November of 1964.

No resources or no effort?

At that time, a few test transmissions were broadcast, but the majority of programming was live. Live programming meant there was no recording equipment at the time. Since PTV — the country’s (then) most technologically advanced company — did not have the tools required to create backups, that content was considered lost as soon as it aired.

Pre-recorded shows started airing circa 71-72, stored mostly using Video Tape Recorders (VTR). Then, in the late '70s, they started using VPRs. Both were stored in spools. Final cuts of aired shows were archived in a near-freezing room, which was the standard storage requirement of these spools.

Around the early '80s, air conditioning for archives was turned down to inadequate levels. Why? That's subject to speculation. Anyway, that caused the spools to succumb to the heat and fuse together, resulting in loss of data. Data that was not backed up anywhere else, nor transferred to the next leading technology.

When they finally realised, around early '90s, that transfer to digital video was imminent, the required equipment to playback the old spools was no longer even serviceable and replacement parts were almost extinct.

Also read:First person: Outspoken? Self-righteous? “Not me!” says Sanam Saeed

Some people took it upon themselves to amalgamate a working device by harvesting parts from others to repair a recorder at PTV Islamabad. The Frankensteined device was then used to salvage surviving footage.

This salvaged material was stored at the Shalimar recording company. It is how we are able to air chunks of our history for “50 years of PTV celebration”. Imagine how much grander it would have been had we preserved these archives in time.

Some fans made recordings and preserved them all these years; they are the public’s only source of revisiting those shows. Without them, this part of our history would have been lost within a generation.

No. No long march. No short march. No freedom rally. No revolution rally. We have had enough of marches and rallies.

Today, I deleted 24 posts from my Facebook page – all on the long march in Islamabad. There were 23 stories on the front page of my favorite news site.

The front and back pages of the two newspapers I ready daily – one English, another Urdu – were also dominated by the same story.

So I pledged to myself that I will not talk about the long march today. By the time I sat down to write this piece, both PAT and PTI rallies had covered half the distance to their destination. The Gujranwala clash had already happened. Imran Khan had repeated his demand for the PM’s resignation. The PM had once again rejected the demand.

In the evening, the rally reached Islamabad. The leaders had returned to the rallies after spending the night at their residences, while the workers braved rain and thunder.

So, there was plenty to write about but I decided not to.

This piece instead, is about my visit to Pakistan last year and about the bleach cream, Fair and Folly.

On my first visit to Pakistan in six years, I noticed a big change. The roads, buildings and trees, all looked different.

Everything had changed, some for better, others for worse.

Even newspaper ads and TV commercials had changed.

“Kum bachchay khushal gharana" (fewer kids, more prosperity) had already been rejected as unIslamic while I still lived in Pakistan; replaced with a new slogan: “Barra Khandan, jihad aasan" (bigger family, better jihad).

There you go. Who says Muslims are against family planning? They are just against Western methods. Produce as many as you want. No worries. Just send them to jihad.

But being an old timer, I still missed the past and looked for a hint, a symbol, a gesture that would link me to the old: “Hum toh janen seedhi baat, Sabun ho toh saath sau saath" (707 soap is the best) and "ABC Wool se pehnaaye koi bun ke, toh bus itna samajhna ke pyaar se buna hai" (Use ABC wool for knitting sweaters for the ones you love), were gone too.

I looked hard but did not find any ad or commercial that could link me to my youth, until I came across a popular digest. And there it was, an ad from my past: “Barat kyun wapis chali gai, Dulhan ka rang jo kala tha (Why did the bridal party return without the bride? Because the bride was dark).”

Also read:Why is kali a gali

So much has happened in the last three or four decades, Ziaul Haq came, turned the country upside down and disappeared in flames. Imran Khan won the world cup and made sure that we do not win it again. The Russians entered Afghanistan and left. The Mujahideen and the Taliban came, left and returned. But this search for a gori (fair-skinned) bride remains unchanged, and perhaps, as elusive as it was in our days.

From mister to mullah, from doctors and engineers of our days to today’s militants, everyone wants a gori dulhan (a fair-skinned bride). Those who get a gori leave the front and return home to focus on the other jihad: Barra khandan, jihad aasan.

But I was not surprised that our militants too, were looking for gori wives. Their mentors in Afghanistan did the same when they came to power in the mid 1990s. Of course, being gori is not an issue in Afghanistan where everybody is fair.

Also read:Fair and ugly

There, the search was for a modern, Western looking woman so that they could save her from the hell fire. So when the Taliban were not in power, they wanted to kill all the airhostesses of the Ariana Airlines and the anchors and actresses of Kabul TV. But when in power, they changed their minds, as people in our parts of the world often do, and married them.

I sometimes wonder what’s worse: marrying a Taliban fighter or dying a sudden and painful death.

Some people say that the difference between Punjabi and Urdu-speaking Taliban and the Afghan and Pakhtun Taliban is that of a gori wife.

The Afghans and Pakhtuns have gori wives; the Punjabis do not. So they are forced to do what we all do: look for Fair and Folly Cream.

Some find it. Some don’t because there’s not enough cream in the market to meet everybody’s demand. This shortage of Folly Cream makes the Punjabi Taliban ferocious.

Perhaps if the government focused on producing more Fair and Folly Cream instead of wasting time on military operations, it could quite possibly overcome militancy.

Also read:The complexion obsession

Here in Virginia, a man married a Pakistani-American woman, thinking that she was as desi as desis are. But she proved more American than desi. So he went to a local maulavi sahib and sought his advice on how to control his wife.

“Force her to obey you,” the maulavi sahib said. He did and the marriage ended in divorce.

But the man did not lose his faith in the maulavi sahib and went back to him for more advice. Luckily, I also participated in this brief session.

“Don’t worry. God will give you another wife, a gori chitti,” said the maulavi sahib.

“Gori as in a white woman?” I asked.

“No,” said the maulavi sahib, “Apni wali gori (No, our gori).”

Also read:The great white pressure

However, this ad about the dark wife – “Barat kyun wapis chali gai” – was not the only link to the past that I found during this visit.

Traveling on the GT Road, I found other links too: “Maut ka manzar, marnay kay baad kya hoga (What happens after death, a window to the other world) and Jarranwala ki tark-e-afeon golian (buy our pills for getting rid of opium) were still around.

But no “70 salala baba, mehboob aap ke qadmon mein (This 70-year old saint can bring the woman you desire to your feet).”

“Why qadmoon mein (at your feet), why not sitting on a chair next to you?” I once asked a friend.

“Qadmoon mein ho, ya amma k ghar, rang gora hona chahye (wherever she is, she must be fair),” the friend replied.

I never understood our obsession with both, gora mehboob and maut ka manzar (fair-skinned wife and death is near).

If this world is so worthless, why do we insist on having a gori chitti?

The government, as it happens, has more rights to safeguard than only your ‘right to protest’; there’s also, what’s technically known as “the rest of the country” to cater for, and to ensure its political stability, security and general well-being.

With the PTI and PAT having descended upon the country’s capital, that fact has become far too easy to overlook in the midst of boiling passions.

You have a right to protest. Lovely. I wish you all the fruits that a functional democracy (not technocracy or mob rule) has to offer. Yes, democracy, which many of the protesters now ironically scoff at, and don’t see what the big deal is about.

In the meantime, I have a right to conduct my business as usual.

A shopkeeper in Gujranwala has a right to not have a mob imposing itself on his street, spooking his customers and blocking his supplies.

A homeowner in Islamabad would prefer not to have revolutionaries camping on his front lawn, littering the roads, violating the prized serenity of his neighbourhood, and in all likelihood, vandalising it.

Read on:PTI, PAT marchers in Islamabad: Qadri says 'revolution' won't take much longer

Though, I would never stand for violence against the demonstrators, it is not inconceivable for the government — any government — to hinder their mass influx into a city, no less the capital city of Pakistan. And mind you, that's not the same as ‘banning’ a citizen from walking up to the protest site with a large sign in his hands, and a catchy, rhyming slogan on his tongue.

Having been personally inconvenienced on more than one occasion by the containers blocking major streets and arteries into the capital (I live in Rawalpindi, and work in Islamabad), I still acknowledge their need. Moreover, I acknowledge that at the risk of being harangued by PTI’s online presence!

But it is also among a government’s responsibilities to non-violently resist its own unconstitutional dismantling. A democratic government, after all, is one which the nation has generally agreed upon, unless definitively proven otherwise by the independent judiciary (not Khan’s own worthy judgement). Therefore, one mass, however sizeable it is, cannot be allowed overturn that grand consensus or cripple its functioning or infrastructure.

Also read:Marches keep capital on tenterhooks

Containers don’t bite, and the trenches are probably not teeming with snakes. Government officials don’t shoot flaming arrows at the marching protesters from their castle’s parapets; I believe they could be forgiven for trying to impede hundreds of thousands of people from pouring at once into Islamabad, posing significant security threats to the city, as well as to themselves.

I do empathise with the protesters; their disillusionment with the way things are, and the desire to shake up the system for the better. The embryonic democracy is noticeably imperfect.

But change does not always come through destruction and turbulence.

The system should be made to gradually evolve through democratic selection; through parliamentary procedure, and not weekly revolutions.

The recent and very tragic death of Robin Williams set off the same spate of reactions which the living have traditionally been able to cough up to suicide incidents..

On the one end, people expressed horror, blame and perhaps even a little vilification for committing the act of suicide. On the other end, it was romanticised, and viewed as his path to attaining peace or freedom.

The truth is, neither reaction comes close to grasping the reality of an act as grave as ending one's own life, and the debilitating conditions that so often lead to it.

Suicide is really the last and final resort for when a person feels that all hope has run out. When news of Williams' death broke and a flood of across-the-globe opinions analysed his death (offering plausible explanations and expressing bewilderment as to “how he could have done it”, especially since he seemed to have it all), I couldn't help but feel: every one of these reactions is missing the point.

The point is: depression is real, and it can be deadly to the people it possesses. The issue is: how long before the rest of us accept it as a biological disease with real consequences?

Also see:'Genie, you're free!'

In the case of Williams, most of what a distant fan like me can say is that he lost hope and saw no other way. Do I blame him for it? No, and how could I, knowing how crippling this condition can be? Do I believe he has attained 'peace'? Again, no, because that's a completely pointless argument. I believe he ended his life hoping that he would find the said peace, but I also believe that life is intended to be valued and protected; it’s just that sometimes a person’s mental health doesn’t allow him to protect himself.

It may have seemed to outsiders that Robin Williams had all anyone could ask for, but he didn’t; he suffered from a serious mental health condition, which was very real and all encompassing.

Most individuals, even with severe mental disorders, seek help and reach out, looking for reasons to live and glimmers of hope before actually committing or attempting to commit suicide. These cries for help are sometimes obvious and visible, while more guarded and discreet in other cases.

The disturbing thing is, most of us don’t recognise cries for help – not because we don’t care, but because we don’t know. Suicides are commonly followed with “I don’t understand how he/she could have done it” statements, and nothing could be more true than that. We just don’t understand.

We lack the basic understanding of mental illness and warning signs and symptoms of suicidal situations – and that is what we as a society need to rectify.

Explore:Stolen Childhood

Renowned writer William Styron accurately and poignantly described his severe depression as feeling “numbly unresponsive for months”; experiencing “a merciless daily drumming”; suffering “exhaustion combined with sleeplessness as a rare torture” and believing that “all sense of hope had vanished”.

Styron's sombre, agonizing language highlights the symptoms of severe depression. It is marked by a feeling of emptiness, loss of interest, disturbances in sleep, feelings of worthlessness, fatigue, loss of ability to concentrate or think and suicidal thoughts.

One does not have to experience all these things to be categorised as depressed, people suffer to varying degrees. But in its most severe form, most of these symptoms will be present; suicidal tendencies are predominantly present and day-to-day functioning is significantly reduced and/or impaired.

Depression is an incapacitating disease. I call it a disease because it is neurologically based and has its roots in chemical imbalances within the brain. It’s also linked to genetic predispositions, and lastly it may be brought on by adverse life events or stressors. I cannot stress it enough that contrary to what many people think, a person cannot just snap out of a severe bout of depression!

Across the world but particularly in Pakistan, the term 'depression' keeps being thrown around loosely:

“Oh he’s just depressed because he lost his job”
“Come on, stop being so depressed about a cricket game, big deal”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you – just snap out of it”
“Come on stop being such a downer”

The natural result of all this is the belittling of a very serious condition. The real takeaway from the suicide of Robin Williams and all the ensuing discussion is that it is in fact us – the society – who need to 'snap out' of these condescending judgements, which merely serve to tell the patient that he/she is being being rejected for their condition.

At the same time, the trend of hiding any kind of mental illness for fear of stigma, must go. All of these responses only act to increase a depressed person’s sense of isolation and loneliness, worsening his state even more.

According to World Health Organization, 350 million people of all ages across the world suffer or suffered from depression. Besides Robin Williams, Heath Ledger, Kurt Cobain and Ernest Hemingway are other famous people known to have suffered from it. Celebrities seem to struggle with mental illnesses and mood disorders in particular – Ashley Judd, Owen Wilson, Catherina Zeta Jones and Winona Ryder to name a few.

All these people have it all – fame, money, success and worldly comfort – then why are they depressed? Because depression is indiscriminate, just like cancer is. It is a real disease.

Let’s open our eyes to it.

I was never really a good student. Having been one of those kids who asked far too many questions in class, I usually ended up standing on a desk or in a corner because teachers couldn’t be bothered to deal with me.

I missed that subtle yet crucial phase of Pakistani primary education that takes place outside the classroom, where family and society covertly convince a child into keeping his or her mouth shut about certain things.

It is quite a delicate brand of conditioning: learning to read heightened body language, social cues and lightly murmured ‘tsk tsks’ in response to certain questions prepares a child about the acceptable boundaries of curiosity.

Having spent my childhood abroad, where being ‘inquisitive’ in a classroom was encouraged, it took me a couple of years of being met with shocked looks and ‘haw hai’ whispers behind my back to realise that the Pakistani carrot/stick method operated differently.

Also read:Revamping education: Hopes and reality

It actually took me quite a few years to recognise that certain questions were not supposed to be asked in Pakistan. You didn’t ask, for example, why there wasn’t a chapter on Gandhi in Pakistan Studies class or why we didn’t study different religions and languages in school.

Why didn’t we ask these questions? That was another question we never asked.

Ironically, I am still faced with the same problem; only this time it is reversed and I have encountered it in the capacity of a teacher.

Even at the college level, I usually find that it takes me an average of five to six classes before my students are somewhat convinced that I ‘really mean it’ when I tell them that within my class they can ask anything. That, if all they learn from me is to listen to someone else’s opinion, in spite of disagreeing with it and without flying into a fit of rage, is learning enough.

Critical thinking is a core component of all education and apart from the buzzwords that underline this, all it really means is a person raising their argument rather than their voice.

It is a constant challenge to get students to form their own opinions, because this is something the Pakistani education system does not teach us. If anything, we usually learn to defend opinions with logic rather than emotion in spite of our education and not because of it.

Explore:Learning to learn

A trend I have observed among many students is an innate fear of exploration.

It is true that institutionalised education systems do limit academic exploration, and that standardised tests and over emphasis on GPA and foreign admissions are often a poor litmus test for gauging passion, original thinking and creativity, however, these are not irreconcilable domains.

I have lost count of the number of times a student has come to my office asking me what to write their research paper on. I always respond with:

“What do you want to write it on?”

And he or she invariably counters:

“What doyouwant me to write it on?”.

We continue this negotiation for the time that it takes me to convince them that my job is to help them best express what they want to express, not tell them where their interests should lie.

Seeing as I work within the Humanities, I find this hesitance all the more perverse but I can understand where it stems from.

We, in Pakistan, seem to have a very strong need to hold absolute opinions as answers to complex and simple questions alike. Very few of us are comfortable entertaining multiple positions and ideas in percentages 60/40, 70/30 rather than Yes/No monoliths.

Find out:Pakistan's need for Civic Education

Maybes, almosts, sometimes, often this and occasionally that are words that I need to teach most of my students. The fact that using qualifiers is not a sign of cowardice or moral relativity or lazy thinking is something they need to be convinced of because they have seldom encountered it. If anything, absolutes lead to lazy thinking because a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer seldom requires a follow up and there are very few practical or personal situations that can be summed up so simply.

Embracing grey zones in thought is often the best use of grey matter, but it is often a struggle to convince people of this.

Pakistan’s education system needs to produce thinkers rather than assembly line workers with wonderful test scores and no critical faculties.

One of the keys to doing this is for teachers to check their own egos at the door, for us to finally recognise that learning is a two-way street and just because our side of the desk tends to have more years and degrees in its corner doesn’t necessarily mean that it should do all the talking.

Also read:System failure: Putting education to work?

The best classrooms need conversation, and if teachers can make students believe that what they think really matters to us, students tend to approach their education differently.

I often randomly ask my students to take over my desk and ‘teach me something I don’t know’, it’s a great exercise where they simply feel valued enough and I get to learn about a discipline I have no background in.

This has extended itself to students coming to my office and lending me books and recommending authors I’ve never heard of, proposing class discussions that I can incorporate and generally feeling invested in our work together. Because that is the key, we work together.

I had very low expectations of myself when I set out to teach last year and the only standard I set was that I wanted to be the kind of teacher I wish I had when I was in college. I wish I had teachers who told me to take books as maps and go exploring and genuinely cared where I ended up.

I wanted teachers to tell me ‘where to look and not what to see’ as Alexandra Trenfor puts it.

I couldn’t abide the idea that there were ‘right books’ and ‘wrong books’ because I think that people who take this approach are inherently terrified of knowledge and exploration and of thinking for themselves. Someone who pre-empts that some knowledge might inherently corrupt or destroy them is already compromised… by fear.

There is already plenty of that to go around in Pakistan and students shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of it.

Civil disobedience: the active, professed refusal to obey certain laws, demands, or commands of a government, or of an occupying international power.

History is filled with several defining civil disobedience movements, most prominently in Egypt, India, America, Czechoslovakia and South Africa. It would, however, be safe to say that the PTI's is not going to be added to the list.

In Egypt, civil disobedience was part of a country-wide revolutionary nationalist movement against British occupiers in 1919, sparked by the British-imposed exile of Saad Zaghloul and the nationalist Wafd Party. It led to the recognition of Egyptian independence in 1922.

In India, Gandhi’s famous advocacy and practice of non-violent civil disobedience in the name of Satyagraha was against British imperialists.

One of those inspired by Gandhi was Martin Luther King Jr. who led the American Civil Rights Movement to end the state policy of racial segregation and discrimination against black Americans, and grant them full constitutional, civil rights and liberties for them.

Czechoslovakia’s Velvet Revolution of 1989 against the single-party communist rule in the country of 41 years also included non-violent civil resistance; as did Nelson Mandela’s struggle against the apartheid in South Africa.

This is just a tiny list of major civil disobedience movements, but more than enough to highlight how ludicrous it is to compare Imran Khan’s politicking to these genuine revolutions.

Know more:Imran's inglorious ending

In Egypt and India, civil disobedience was traditionally an anti-colonialist and anti-imperialist tool against foreign occupiers and colonialists. It was used in the nationalist pursuit of independence.

In America, it was used to end the unjust and unequal system of discrimination and domination of one people in the country by another, just as it was in South Africa.

In Czechoslovakia and Lithuania, it was to fight the iron Soviet grip they had been under for years.

Those movements make sense. But in Pakistan’s case there is neither a colonial or foreign occupier, nor is there apartheid.

Bear in mind, from Iran and Afghanistan to India and Thailand, countless political parties have decried massive rigging in their respective elections. However, Imran's case is the first time a provincial government has initiated a civil disobedience movement against the federal government on such grounds; and that too, with an ultimatum of two days.

It is preposterous that a provincial government which came to power through what it terms elections of ‘unprecedented rigging’ hasn't bothered to resign from K-P before asking for the federal government's resignation on the pretext of being elected through those very same elections.

The call to disobey the government, then, is mere farce.

Read on:Threat to constitutional order?

And what of not paying taxes as a form of protest?

Going by the words of former chairman FBR Ali Arshad Hakeem, only a negligible 0.9 per cent of the population of 190 million pay taxes.

So if tax evasion is the norm in practically the entire country, how is civil disobedience a deviation from it?

What the PTI advocates right now is rebellion against the Pakistani state itself, in order to dislodge the government it deems illegitimate. By advocating civil disobedience in a democracy, it advocates the abrogation of the Constitution of Pakistan by repudiating the writ and power vested in the state by it [the Constitution].

Ziyad Faysal, writer and student of economics, makes a striking point:

I hope people realise that this way [civil disobedience] nothing can stop anyone from abrogating the Pakistani Constitution because in their opinion the sitting government is illegitimate. Does it not worry people that much of the constitutional argument against a military coup or against elements like the Taliban just got thrown out the window?

It is pertinent to note how Khan’s claims and demands have gradually lost all constitutional legitimacy, leading him to resort to unconstitutional means and extreme measures such as civil disobedience as a channel for their realisation.

And, it is here that he has lost the battle.

Also read:Imran’s surprising call for civil disobedience

Perhaps, the best PTI can do right now, for both its sake and Pakistan’s is to make another u-turn: save face by negotiating with the government.

They can grow into a serious political force only by replacing street politics and childish agitation with parliamentary politics, which it has shunned since the elections.

Their idea is right: the PML-N must be stopped from slipping into its traditional slumber of complacency and undemocratic demeanour. But to do that, their stance must be both strong-footed and sensible — not to mention their own house must be in order.

Make KP a model of the governance you demand. Then demand the same for the rest of the country.

Its either that, or bury the dream of 'change' and march on.

Sunday wasn’t good to the kaptaans from Mianwali.

That’s an understatement, of course. The weekend more or less ended their plans of winning, or anything they might have had in the way of a plan to win.

While the younger kaptaan is guilty of being caught twice in two days off the same bowler he was confident of handling a few days ago, the elder one appears guilty of being bowled off his own yorkers (as physically impossible as that sounds). He is stubbornly holding his ground, refusing to leave the pitch until a neutral umpire comes out to send him off.

Why aren’t you leaving the pitch, Imran? Does it take a neutral umpire to call out a shattered-stumps dismissal?

What on earth is wrong with our captains these days?

It’s hard to judge which one - Misbahul Haq or Imran Khan - is more childishly obstinate, refusing to admit their flaws.

One keeps regurgitating his now-notorious ‘stability and calm’ slogan, unable to comment on the many technical shortcomings of his players (on account of being the most handicapped player himself).

The other’s ‘cornered tigers’ are looking to break their cages, threatening to attack the zookeepers and then take over the zoo themselves.

Know more:PTI’s latest move

So, why is all this happening and what did we do to deserve this?

The real explanation must be more than a strategy gone awry. That’s been happening with these two for some time now.

Misbah’s case is more complicated, and intertwined with his team. His misery ended yesterday with a familiar ending to a done-to-death script. So let’s leave him for another day.

The PTI chairman’s cause, however, is supposed to be the awaam’s cause and is ongoing. So please, humour me when I ask, why civil disobedience?

In his self-proclaimed ‘speech of a lifetime’ and ‘final match’ on Sunday, Imran performed more somersaults than viewers could keep up with.

“I want to storm this ‘fake parliament’ and the Prime Minister House, and hold Nawaz by the neck and subject him to ruthless accountability,” he remarked, only to add, “But we believe in a peaceful struggle.”

Umm... OK.

“Don’t pay taxes!” he exclaimed, to add much later: “Do pay them to the KP government, just not to the federal government."

Right.

“I have no difficulty in going 40 hours without sleep, so you’ll find me right here all the time... though not everyone is a former cricketer like me.”

Excuse me?

“This is a peaceful, constitutional march. But I’m telling you Mr Prime Minister, I can guarantee their peace only till the next two days. After that, I don’t know what this lot might do!”

Again, what?

Nobody likes thwacking a falling man (especially when it's Imran Khan, whose purity of heart not even his enemies dare question), but this weekend was an exceptional case:

I will settle for no less than a resignation from the Prime Minister... also, here’s civil disobedience!

Our demands are perfectly democratic, but this monarchy is no democracy...we won’t resign from the KP assembly.

We have no problems sitting in for a week - no, scratch that, two days sounds better.

I think Hamlet had an easier time contemplating suicide.

Also read:The Pied Piper and the lost children

It was funny when Imran started off with the threat of continuing the sit-in for a week and later changed it to 48 hours on the crowd's demand. It was amusing when he stood completely drenched and tried to comfort his audience: "This rain, this rain is a blessing for us!"

But it stopped being funny after he was heard hammering into his impressionable followers over and over, that after 48 hours pass, they’d be free to take over the zoo however they wished.

Deplorable.

Where did our kaptaan from ‘92 go?

When did the fire get replaced by seeming greed and desperation?

I love it every time Imran is asked to comment on Pakistani cricket. He always rises above the petty arguments to say:

“Look, players are produced by institutions, by proper domestic structures. Without the right system, you just can’t have the right product.”

On the field, he used to boast disciplined aggression, marshalling (not martialling) his men to outperform themselves.

And what do we have now on in his place? We have an eccentric leader armed only with stale, defensive tactics; bizarre bowling changes and a batting ethic which may well deserve to be put on trial in court.

One thing Misbah does supposedly bring to the table is much-needed ‘stability and calm’ in the middle order.

I ask then, could we switch our kaptaans around?

Wouldn’t it be great to have the tiger back in his greens and the turtle in parliament, bringing a calm to our political middle (dis)order?

They’re both hard-headed men, used to ignoring good advice in favour of personal whims.

They both rode the ‘least evil’ argument to their current leadership roles.

And they’re both heading personality cults, with their teams suffering from cultist dynamics.

So, can we switch knight with knight and see if that makes the rain come down in the right match, next Sunday?

It doesn't take much for the Pakistan Army to stage a coup.

All four military coups in our 67 year history were bloodless. A small contingent of lightly armed troops jumps over the closed gates of a few buildings to take the fazed civil establishment - waiting for the inevitable - into protective custody.

Then, with a picture of the Quaid and a national flag in the background, the military protagonist delivers a ‘meray aziz humwatno’ (my dear countrymen) address.

The run up to this breathtaking live telecast also follows a familiar and predictable pattern – inept politicians engage in internecine fights over petty issues, in front of a dejected audience and, just as the crisis reaches its climax, the saviour enters. The audience heaves a sigh of relief, with some sections breaking into frenzied applause.

Explore:The coup-lovers’ brigade

Besides this foreplay, however, there is also an aftermath to the deceptively simple act of coup making and that’s where careful calculations have to be made well in advance.

Based on a comparative study of the three major coups of our history, staged by Ayub Khan, Ziaul Haq and Pervez Musharraf, here is why these calculations, in my opinion, may not add up to a coup, this time.

1. Constitutional cover-up may not be available

After the coup, the army has to undertake a multi-layered exercise to legitimise its act.

The customary first step is promulgation of a Provisional Constitutional Order (PCO) that suspends the Constitution and the Parliament. This can be drafted at any time by cutting and pasting from earlier drafts.

But one of the ominous consequences of the PCO had been that higher judiciary was asked to renew their oath under it and thus the bench was purged of all defiant and potential trouble makers. Barring some individuals, most of the judges have been taking the bait in the past.

Can it be repeated in 2014?

The next step in the past has been a court decision justifying the takeover under the doctrine of necessity, clubbed with the philosophies of revolutions that define their own legitimacy.

What’s equally important is that the same decisions have been allowing dictators to amend the Constitution. The power to amend the Constitution is a must as it sets the stage for the power play that follows.

For Zia, the right to amend the Constitution was literally ‘as it may please you’. Musharraf too, was given a free hand but was also bound by the court in 2000 to hold general elections within three years of the date of his takeover.

The higher judiciary’s reaction to Musharraf’s declaration of emergency in 2007 was, however, a new chapter in our history.

Over the past seven years, the judiciary has earned unprecedented independence and a new stature. Will it let it end without a whimper?

2. International acceptance may be hard to come by

An even more complicated front for a coup maker to deal with is the international community.

When Musharraf took over in October 1999, he was unwelcome, disliked and looked upon with suspicion. Pakistan was suspended from the Commonwealth Organisation - a symbolic rebuke though because in diplomatic terms, it meant little. Musharraf, however, was under immense pressure to guarantee that the country will soon return to democracy.

Just weeks after the coup, he flew to Kathmandu to attend a SAARC summit, where, after delivering his speech, he walked over to the Indian Prime Minister to offer him a handshake. The extended hand of the general considered responsible for Kargil war was a ‘bold’ step. It was an attempt to break his growing isolation and the pariah image.

Find out more:Oct 12, 1999, coup and after…

In March 2000, US President Bill Clinton came to India on a five day visit. The White House took weeks in deciding whether or not Clinton would visit Pakistan.

The US decision makers were divided in two camps, one emphasised that the President shall not visit Pakistan as it will be seen as legitimising the military rule and thus will hinder the development of democracy there.

The other group though, partly agreed with this assertion but insisted that lines of communication between the two countries shall remain open as Pakistan was an important country with respect to nuclear non-proliferation, regional peace, and the fight against terrorism.

Clinton finally decided to touch down at Pakistan for a brief five-hour stay. He held all his meetings at the Islamabad airport and made sure his meetings with Musharraf in particular were not photographed. He did not want to be seen shaking hands with a military dictator!

The situation took a sharp U-turn after 9/11, however.

President Bush met Musharraf in November 2001 when he went to the US to attend a UN meeting. The meeting was not only photographed but was also televised. World leaders then came in droves showering billions of dollars to win Pakistan’s support. The rest is history.

When Ayub and Zia had taken over, the international ‘political ethics’ were not averse to military interventions but the two generals too, survived for a decade each by serving as pawns in geopolitical games.

Ayub’s high point in imperial services was the US spy base in Peshawar and Zia, as we all know, made the country a jump pad for CIA operations against the Soviet forces in Afghanistan.

The geopolitical ‘games’ have not vanished in present times.

Recently in Egypt, General El Sisi overthrew an elected government and then got himself elected under a constitution made by himself. In Bangladesh, the Awami League installed itself through elections that were boycotted by almost all other parties. The international community is hesitant in accepting both as legitimate rulers but on the other hand, no one has taken any substantial counter measures against them.

In fact, these takeovers have been largely seen as a blessing in disguise as both these rulers are avowed enemies of religious extremism in their respective countries.

So, the going rule in global political expediency is that if you are effective in thwarting religious extremism, you can be allowed to bend rules and democracy can be considered as the unavoidable ‘collateral damage’.

The military in Pakistan, however, does not enjoy a repute similar to that of El Sisi or Hasina Wajid in the international community and may not be allowed to draw this wild card.

3. A crony parliament may not be possible

Musharraf held the general elections on 10 October 2002, two days before the time limit handed by the court. But before testing their political skills in the general elections, all three coup makers of our history had preferred to hold controlled trials in the form local government elections.

That makes available to them a whole new class of yes-men, who are then groomed into a new battalion of politicians that happily serve as the military dictators’ civilian arms. A select group of more experienced turncoats, groomed by previous dictators is also allowed to join the ranks. The local government elections are coupled with a referendum that installs the general, winning with over 90 per cent ‘yes’ votes, as the legitimate, elected head of the state.

Musharraf diligently performed these two important chores before embarking on the general elections in 2002; he was at his zenith at that time.

He was elected as President through a referendum while still donning his chief of army staff uniform. He had recruited a battalion of loyal politicians by harvesting a good number from the PML-N’s fallen army and through his new local government system.

He lowered the age limit of voters and listed them afresh. He increased the number of constituencies and redrew them at his convenience. Above all, he was able to send both the country’s top leaders, Nawaz and Benazir into exile. The two main parties were in disarray, their cadres dejected, depressed and scattered.

There could be no better opportunity for a coup maker to stage a land slide victory.

But, what were the results of the 2002 elections?

The king’s party fell short of numbers to form a government.

Musharraf then amended rules to allow independent candidates to join one or the other political party after the initial announcement of results. He also relaxed laws barring floor crossing and managed defections in the PPP ranks. The defectors formed the PPP-patriots that supported Musharraf.

With all this massive power play, Musharraf’s party could elect a prime minister with the slightest possible majority of one vote! That exposed the limits of the military’s strategic depth in the political arena – and this happened a good 12 years ago.

What numbers can a coup maker expect now?

4. Military-technocrats may not perform better on economic front

Democratic governments have always been blamed for messing with the country’s economy, while most indicators show that the military governments performed relatively better. The ‘bettering’ of the economy is vital for a regime to secure popular legitimacy in medium terms.

There is, however, a catch in the generals’ seemingly better performance.

All three of them, Ayub, Zia and Musharraf thrived on the largesse of the Western powers in return for the strategic roles that each of them played in the geopolitics of their times. The money came in the form of grants and soft loans and the World Bank and the IMF took care of the fiscal side.

The superficial prosperity, however, disappeared as soon the Western supply lines dried up.

Military rulers failed to better utilise such opportunities, especially when compared with other countries, like South Korea and Malaysia, which succeeded in converting their strategic positions into sustained economic gains.

Musharraf’s period is within recent memory. The country’s energy crisis worsened to the present stage during his rule. After trying a civilian prime minister, Zafarullah Jamali, for 20 months he replaced him with a technocrat of the highest ranks, Shaukat Aziz.

The latter was serving as the executive vice-president at Citi Bank when he was flown in from the US by Musharraf to be appointed as his Finance Minister. Shaukat Aziz served in the same position from October 1999 till November 2007 and for the last three years, he was the prime minister as well. The technocrat, however, failed miserably in spinning the country’s economy out of the morass that it has always been in. In fact, his policies can be rightly blamed for causing the energy crisis as we know it now.

His government also failed in making headway on problematic fronts, like the expansion in tax base.

So, even with unrestricted power and technocrats occupying the highest offices, the coup maker could not pull up any trick yesterday and it will be even more difficult to do it today.

The economic recovery has to take the long and arduous democratic road.

So forget about shortcuts.

All the revolutionary scenes I have seen in life have been on television – mostly in Bollywood movies. What’s happening today, revolutionary or not, I am again watching on television, although it’s taking place four hours away from my house.

Does it deserve the Rang De Basanti soundtrack? Totally. With little gaps of the soothing sound of “Inshallah … .Inshallah”.

But soundtrack aside, what is happening?

The Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaaf (PTI) is having an Azadi party, er, march. While the Pakistan Awami Tehreek (PAT) soldiers have finally been given an opportunity to prove to their leader just how devoted and obedient they are as they chant and march behind him.

Both teams want the prime minister gone.

Follow:Live updates of the Islamabad protests

Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif looks grimmer than ever and politicians from all the other political parties are feeling severely left out, hence PPP’s Shazia Marri’s outburst at the National Assembly this morning and the emergence of MQM’s Haider Abbas Rizvi and Ejaz-ul-Haq in Islamabad.

Clichéd jokes aside, the PTI has once again done what no other political party could do (without threatening or buying them out): charge the previously apolitical and get them to rally for a cause, which quite possibly could rid us of a very corrupt government.

The PTI are disciplined enough to follow their leader Imran Khan’s call for peaceful protest but rowdy enough to flip a container or two without really causing harm to public property (leave aside the fact that they’ve taken over the capital city at the moment).

Also read:Situationer: Sound bites, slogans and history

Alongside the PTI, march the angry man PAT’s Tahir-ul-Qadri and his chanters. His followers are very different from Khan’s supporters.

They will sit when he tells them to sit and stand when he wants them to rise. While Khan’s protest revolves around rigging and corruption the PML-N’s involved in, Qadri’s beef goes beyond.

Two months ago, several followers of TuQ lost their lives in a scuffle with the police outside his residence in Lahore. Those killed included women and children. The tragic incident was strongly protested against and in any other country, it would have been reason enough for members of the provincial if not federal, government to step down.

Also read:‘From czar-like prime minister to deputy commissioner-type character’

PML-N supporters are probably itching to have a go at the PTI and PAT crowd, except those guys are still preaching peace. Although one may add here, senior PML-N leaders have vaguely reminded the country that they too have thousands of supporters sitting in the bleachers waiting for a signal.

The Sharifs and their party may not be publicly foaming at the mouth just yet, but their blockades and closures to the capital are saying enough.

Oh, the representatives of democracy!

TuQ’s stance remains consistent, while Khan goes up and down. Khan calls for civil disobedience and you have thousands going up in face-palms. Then he redeems himself by stating that he’s open to talks with the government if Nawaz Sharif packs up. Although that still sounds unachievable, it isn’t as unreasonable as what he first started off with.

Also read:'Civil disobedience': Another nail in PTI's political coffin

Much as we are familiar with Khan and his charisma and his ability to self-destruct, TuQ is a whole different matter. Who is he? Where did he drop in from? I mean it’s true, we do often pray for fresh faces in our political scene, but this isn’t exactly what we meant.

He claims he’s been living with his extended family in a one-canal house in Lahore since 35 years except he hasn’t – he just came back from Canada where he resides. His comparisons of Pakistan with other war-torn nations are often a bit of a stretch and his warnings of the doom approaching us seem a bit exaggerated even to the strongest pessimists.

Also read:Encamped for Qadri’s revolution

But, he is a brave man. He is live on national television at the moment asking Nawaz Sharif if he would still preach democracy if it were, God forbid his children who lost their lives. Despite the session court judge’s orders, no action has yet taken place on the incident outside his residence – he asks what good is such a democracy. I wonder as well.

Oh and he loves the Army.

Moving on, what’s going to happen tonight? Other than PTV, which insists on showing news from South Korea and China despite everything going on here, the news channels will have another field day with experts coming in and giving their 'valuable' opinions.

Both the movements in Islamabad will probably gain momentum as Khan tempts the rest of the country to join the biggest event in Pakistan’s recent history. Both the parties will also continue to vouch their love and support for the Army, which stands alert in the shadows.

Also read:Four reasons why a military coup is unlikely

But will all of this make Nawaz Sharif pack up? More importantly, do you want it to be so?

Those not in love with Azadi and its agents might be sitting and wondering where they stand.

Nawaz Sharif packing up doesn’t just mean the end of PML-N or this government; it will deeply damage democracy, as many argue. Sure, this democracy is a sham but it is a system. A very broken and bruised system that Zardari of all people, managed to pass on to Sharif.

Could supporting Khan or TuQ mean being anti-democratic?

What means more right now? Not derailing democracy - or not allowing another corrupt government to take the nation for a ride.

What about the precedent these rallies will set?

What if someone not as good-looking and patriotic, or someone not as scholarly, approaches the capital with thousands or more, and demands for the government to resign for whatever reason? What then?

Ah, decisions, decisions.

Michael Brown and Sammy Yatim are two sides of the same coin. The two 18-year-old racialised men were shot dead by the police. However, unlike in Toronto, Canada, where Mr Yatim died, Ferguson, Missouri, has erupted in riots after the death of Mr Brown.

The riots and looting in Ferguson (a suburb of St. Louis), which have lasted for more than a week, show that in the case that fundamental issues of social justice remain unresolved, even American cities are not impervious to riots and chaos.

Presently, Pakistanis are fixated on protesters trying to take Islamabad hostage. Such crises create an impression that such chaos is unique to Pakistan or other developing countries. But Ferguson is the latest reminder that counterparts are well and active even in the United States.

Michael Brown shooting in Ferguson

Earlier on August 9, a white police officer killed Brown, an African-American teenager, by shooting him six times. Successive autopsy reports suggest that Brown was killed in a defensive posture whereby he did not pose any direct threat to the police officer.

Eyewitness accounts reveal that the initial altercation between Brown and the police officer escalated quickly. The police officer then chased down and shot Brown while he had raised his arms, requesting the officer not to shoot. Still, the officer fired multiple shots.

Everything that transpired from Brown’s unfortunate death till now reveals how race remains a divisive concern in the United States.

African-Americans in the United States have been largely excluded from sharing in the riches that the American dream has generated in the past six decades. Their ill-treatment by law enforcement agencies adds insult to the injury.

Racism and cover-up tactics

The contrast between African-Americans and the rest of the Americans is striking.

African-Americans are more likely to be poor, less educated, less likely to obtain loans from banks for self or business, more likely to be profiled, stopped, and arrested by the police, and executed for murder than any other race in the United States.

The death of Brown at the hands of a white police officer and other similar incidents — such as Rodney King being tortured by Los Angeles Police — almost always erupt in riots because of unresolved issues of race and equality in present-day United States.

Read on:The militarisation of the police

Police conduct in Ferguson after the death of Brown has raised several questions.

The police initially refused to disclose the identity of the police officer who shot Brown. Later, the police released a video and photographs that showed just before he was stopped and killed by the police, Brown was alleged to be involved in a robbery at a grocery store. This paints Brown as a petty criminal and bolster the defence of the officer that shot him.

There is, however, a small problem. The officer who shot Brown had no knowledge of the robbery or Brown’s involvement in it when he stopped him and his friend for questioning.

Why did the police officer stop Brown, you may wonder?

That is what officers do in North America. Other racial minorities in the United States and Canada are no exception, and are much more likely to be stopped without cause by the police than white individuals.

Statistics show that whereas 63 per cent of the residents in Ferguson are black, they represent 92 per cent of the police arrests.

Attempts to paint Brown as a petty criminal by the police backfired. Given that the police have been high-handed with African-Americans in Ferguson, and in the rest of the United States, the African-American community stood up in protest. Instead of practicing calm and restraint, the Ferguson police, however, responded with even more force against the protesters, resulting in riots and looting.

The Governor of the State of Missouri, Jay Nixon, was forced to intervene and impose a state of emergency and curfew. He also called in the Missouri National Guard after the curfew failed to control chaos and mayhem.

Sammy Yatim shooting in Toronto

The tragic death of Sammy Yatim in Toronto, Canada, unfolded quite differently. Yatim, a Syrian emigrant who arrived in Canada in 2008, brandished a knife and exposed himself on a streetcar (tram) in downtown Toronto. The driver immediately stopped the streetcar and evacuated other passengers.

The sight of a teenager holding a knife in one hand and genitals in the other, must have been disturbing. Still Yatim posed no immediate threat to the commuters in the streetcar or to the police that responded within minutes.

Eyewitness accounts and video captured by a bystander on July 27, 2013, shows officer James Forcillo discharging his firearm, killing Yatim. He was shot nine times. The city erupted in peaceful protests as sadness descended on the city that mourned the unnecessary and tragic death of a troubled young man.

Where the similarities end...

Just like the death of 18-year old Brown, the death of 18-year-old Yatim was a case of excessive and unwarranted use of police force. But this is where the similarities end.

The Toronto police and city administration made no attempt to paint Yatim unduly in poor light or to defend the police officer, who was charged with second-degree murder on August 19, 2013. Last month, the charges against the police officer were upgraded to attempted murder.

The city administration and civil society in Toronto reacted quickly to address the fact that a young man died because of excessive use of police force. Collectively, they are working to ensure that such incidents are not repeated in the future.

And while Toronto is not the poster child for the perfect place, it is still a place where social justice matters to most. Despite the odd incident of police excess, most Canadians do respect the police. Ask a group of six-year old first graders in a school of what they would like to be when they will grow up, and most boys would say a police officer.

The present mob in Islamabad and the rioting that so routinely erupts in Pakistan is no different from what happens from time to time in the United States. When society fails to deliver on social justice, chaos ensues.

Explore:Model Town tragedy: Court rules case be registered against Nawaz, Shahbaz and 19 others

We have to ask ourselves why is it that the police in Model Town, Lahore, has not yet registered the complaint (FIR) for the murder of eleven civilians who were shot dead by the police in June 2014?

Why is that the Hazara Shias in Quetta had to put their dead on the road before the government responded to their mass murder at the hands of sectarian extremists?

The lack of social justice is a recipe for disaster, chaos, and mob rule. The scenes from Islamabad and Ferguson, Missouri, are two manifestations of the same problem.