To be fair, I wasn’t at the New York Times or CNN’s office when Boston was attacked, but I can assure you the reaction was not even remotely similar to the one in Dawn’s newsroom, for obvious reasons. Kohat was just news. Because of how common such blasts have become, this particular one didn’t even win the top slot for headline news – it instead, came in fourth in line. It’s tough competition in such troubling times.
Terror attacks, that plunder Pakistan’s soil so devastatingly, have seeped into the status quo. It is no longer a case of extremist groups attempting political upheaval by planting these attacks. Rather, the actions of opposing groups have a back and forth see sawing effect, with decisive victories and concrete changes few and far between.
The one constant amidst the uncertainty surrounding Pakistan’s political and social fabric, however, is the drama that ensues from these exchanges: increasing crime, political comebacks, feudal misdemeanours, a genocide on minorities, remote control bombs from halfway across the world, a massive flood (twice!), a corrupt bureaucracy, and a teenage girl that stands up to extremism — despite elements of sadism, it makes for irresistible entertainment.
And the growth of Pakistan’s media sector is there to prove it. In 2002, when Pakistan began the liberalisation of its media, we had 2,000 journalists. Now, there are over 17,000. With many non-partisan evaluations deeming Pakistan the most dangerous country for journalists, as deaths and abduction become commonplace, this is quite a remarkable rise.
Listing the number of new, corny-named news channels on the television would be as much of a bore as sitting through Amir Liaquat’s Ramazan show during a roza. For the much-too-faithful: there’s a lot of news channels.
An infamous saying in Karachi that the news van arrives on the scene even before the cops is proof of the competition in Pakistan’s media market. And the coverage is for all to see. Most television channels also have websites, and perhaps its because of a lack of internet entrepreneurs, but, in terms of hits, seven out of the top 10 local websites are news providers. Numbers don’t lie.
Maybe it’s an innate desire to be well informed of the dire situation, to evaluate reality from the apparent mix of perspectives on offer. But the homogeneity of news telecasts categorically refutes this claim.
Interestingly, however, Pakistan’s most watched news program is Geo News’ Hum Sub Umeed Say Hain, a political satire that features short, comical segments on the day’s developments. Another political comedy, Khabar Naak, was rated fourth in 2011. Whether it’s a psychedelic remix of Asif Zardari chanting “shut up”, or Balochistan’s chief minister saying “a degree is a degree whether it’s authentic or fake”, no one can be denied a giggle. The moral void in our leaders’ minds, among many other things, provides a never ending stream of material to make fun of.
HBO’s show Game of Thrones created a medieval fantasy world, filled with insurgencies, vile individuals, and many, many, rival groups. It also achieved record-breaking ratings on television. For Pakistanis, perhaps the lavish swords are replaced by Kalashnikovs, and the grassy terrain with the dusty mountains, but the insurgency in the north definitely expounds some medieval ideals.
Coming south to the fight for the throne of Karachi, and the value of life is further reduced. The competing parties laud the fascist-ethnocentric mania of the 1930s, Pakistan’s life in the hands of the feudal lord, and the populist notions of a justice-seeking sportsman — perhaps a unique case in history. With gangs, armed militias, the police, heroin-traders, and radically religious groups, the city has all the makings of a mosh pit of ancient morals and modern violence.
Beneath the violence lies an unkempt culture, with the tantalizing spices from India’s historic past, a progressive elite, colourful buses, a rising film industry, an array of languages, and a diverse people. But this beauty merely aides the dramatic stories that surface daily.
If someone made a reality television program on Karachi, or Pakistan, its ratings in splendour and savageness would even rival Game of Thrones. But then again, there is a reality show: Pakistan’s competitive media world and it’s growing as interest reaches new heights.
Kohat was a minor detail in the larger picture; it didn’t make major headlines because news outlets assumed on behalf of the public that there was bigger news to watch on the tele.
Reference:
Mapping digital media: Pakistan by Huma Yusuf for the Open Society Foundations.