By Hassan Javid
On the eve of Independence Day, let’s take stock of what has been accomplished in the last seventy years.
Every day the entire country spends hours without electricity, bearing the stifling heat and oppressive humidity without any of the relief that might be provided by technology.
Across Pakistan, almost ten percent of children die before they reach their fifth birthdays, representing a child mortality rate that puts the country on par with the UK and the USA – more than a hundred years ago.
Significant sections of the populace lack clean drinking water and sanitation, continuing to rely on the same resources and processes that their ancestors may have used a century ago.
Access to quality healthcare and education is virtually nonexistent (unless, of course, you are rich); some parts of the country have witnessed a decline in their literacy rates, and a visit to any sizeable public hospital will show how most of the patients, some of whom will have travelled hundreds of kilometers for specialist care, will have little choice but to deal with a system that is chronically understaffed, underfunded, and mismanaged.
Violence is rampant in Pakistan. Against religious minorities. Against ethnic groups. Against women. You can be killed for saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, you can be killed by the very same organizations that are tasked with protecting you, and you can even be killed for ‘honour’. More often than not, it is the victims of violence who bear the blame for what happens to them. If you speak your mind and get shot, you should have remained silent. If you believe in the wrong God, you should have converted. If you are stabbed 23 times in broad daylight and still manage to survive, as the brave Khadija Siddiqui did, you can still have your character questioned in court as if that makes it alright for a sadistic young man to try and kill you in as brutal a manner as possible.
In the larger cities, flashy cars are used by the elite to travel to shiny new shopping malls. The apparently booming retail sector is taken as evidence for the rise of Pakistan’s new ‘middle’ class, even as inequality and disparities in opportunity become ever more apparent with the growth of slums. Many of these are simply walled off; out of sight is out of mind.
Amidst anemic economic performance and a lack of governance, much is often made of Pakistan’s sovereignty and how the struggle for independence seventy years ago secured it for the Muslims of South Asia. Yet, for all the jingoistic posturing and hyper-nationalism that is often propagated in the mainstream discourse, the historical record suggests that the powers-that-be in Pakistan have yet to see a loan or package of financial aid that they would not bend over backwards to accept. The country has been more than willing, for example, to decry drone strikes by the US as a violation of its sovereignty while continuing to accept billions of dollars of aid from them. The conditionalities attached with such aid are merely a minor detail.
The same is true of CPEC; while the day is not far when criticizing CPEC will be punished as harshly, if not more, than blaspheming against Islam, the euphoria generated by the prospects of billions of dollars of investment by China has been accompanied by an almost complete and total suspension of the country’s collective critical faculties. What are the terms of this Chinese investment? Who will it benefit? How will it work? Why should it be taken as an article of faith that the Chinese will be more benevolent creditors than our erstwhile ‘friends’ in the US? All these questions are simply brushed aside. Sovereignty can go and take a flying leap when billions of dollars are on the table.
On TV, nakedly partisan hacks and ‘senior analysts’ rant at each other, backing one set of opportunistic elites or another. Unhinged histrionics are mistaken for entertainment, and the unending quest for higher ‘ratings’ – whatever that might mean in the Pakistani context – means there is no depth to which elements of the media will not sink. In the past decade, anchors and hosts with massive following have openly incited their supporters to violence, calling for the death of religious minorities, liberals, and other convenient and easy-to-target scapegoats for a variety of social ills. For the most, the media has played a pivotal role in reinforcing prejudice and coarsening the public discourse.
To be fair to the media, its conduct is arguably the logical consequence of Pakistan’s debased political culture. The inanity of politics of Pakistan is perhaps best encapsulated by the contours of the current round of political agitation and opposition. On the one hand, we have a conservative, right-wing ruling party, full of plutocrats and landlords, that stands accused of corruption and misgovernance. On the other hand, we have a conservative, right-wing opposition party, full of plutocrats and landlords, which somehow continues to sell the idea that it represents a radical departure from the status quo. In an ironic twist, both of these right-wing parties find support amongst Pakistan’s ‘liberals’.
Of course, as some would rightly point out, the kleptocratic and oligopolistic nature of Pakistan’s ‘democratic’ politics is simply window-dressing, with true power continuing to lie in the hands of the country’s military establishment. As both the definers and guardians of Pakistan’s national security and interests, the military has never shied away from an opportunity to defend the country from itself by helpfully undermining the few tentative steps that have been taken towards substantive democratization. Indeed, as General Musharraf, Pakistan’s last dictator, happily pointed out last week after yet another civilian Prime Minister was ousted from power, military rulers have always been the best thing to have ever happened to Pakistan.
If that were true, one might reasonably ask, why is it that despite ruling the country for almost half of its existence, the military’s excellent governance appears to have left little impact on Pakistan. Instead, some might argue, the military’s political legacy has been one characterized by increasing ethnic discord, rising Islamist militancy, and weakened political institutions. After all, violent crackdowns on protest and dissent in Bengal (now Bangladesh), Balochistan, Khyber Pakhtoonkhwa, and Sindh, have al been implemented by military regimes, just as the policy of ‘strategic depth’ in Afghanistan, which saw the creation of nurturing of violent Islamist groups in Pakistan, was masterminded by the military as well. It may be tempting to point out that the collapse of Pakistan’s institutions should at least in part be blamed on the civilian political elite but even there, as Nawaz Sharif’s opponents are often fond of point out when it come to him, much of the civilian political class has itself benefitted from military patronage.
Pakistan at 70 is still poor and deprived, a 21st century state still grappling with 19th century problems. It is badly governed, and held hostage by the political shenanigans of a venal political elite and a cynical military establishment. Worst of all, those in position of power refuse to see the enormity of the problems the country confronts, preferring instead to play their own petty power games while scapegoating internal and external enemies.
But at least Pakistan has nuclear weapons. And a fashion industry. Never forget the fashion industry.
Sovereignty can go and take a flying leap when billions of dollars are on the table.
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