| 01 August 2004 | Sunday | 14 Jamadi-us-Saani 1425 |
Human rights and power politics
Wages of a mis-spelt name
The foreign policy of Pakistan has been focused on its problems with India since its very inception. India's occupation of Kashmir, and its perceived threat to Pakistan's security, figured prominently in the latter's dialogue with other nations.
There are indications at this time that some of the issues between the two countries may be resolved in the foreseeable future and the way opened for cooperative relations. It will take a few more years to devise, and then consolidate, new patterns of mutually advantageous interaction. If and when that has been done, what will our major policy concerns be?
Pakistan is evidently not a great power. If states like Germany and Italy are ranked as major powers, Pakistan does not belong to that category either. Is it then a "small" state? Such a state may be defined as one that recognizes, as do others, that it cannot safeguard its security primarily by the use of its own capabilities, and that it must rely on the aid of other states or institutions to do so.
Until recently, the perceived threat to Pakistan's security came from India. American military aid (given to resist possible communist danger), and later Chinese support, enabled Pakistan to counter the Indian threat. This threat appears to have receded. It could conceivably resurface, but Pakistan's acquisition of nuclear weapons, and its willingness to use them as a last resort, make an Indian war of aggression and conquest highly improbable.
None of Pakistan's other neighbours has the capability of posing a serious threat to its security. The United States, Britain, and some of the European nations do have it, and they are beyond the reach of Pakistan's nuclear weapons. They have no reason at this time to use force against Pakistan but, with Mr Bush's doctrine of pre-emption still in vogue, the emergence of such a reason at some future date cannot be ruled out.
Pakistan is a small state in relation to these powers. One way of dealing with them, especially the United States, may be to set aside areas where interests of the two sides are irreconcilable, and to offer cooperation in those where they are compatible. Great powers will be inclined, in the first instance, to reject this kind of selectivity. But if the smaller state has the will and internal cohesion to persevere, the great power concerned will probably relent.
The history of Pakistan's relations with the great powers shows that, with the possible exception of America's recent demand for assistance in the war against terrorism, none of them has ever coerced it to follow a certain line. They have sought Pakistan's cooperation in the pursuit of certain goals in return for suitable compensation, and our successive governments have been happy to take it and do the needful.
We have been subservient to the United States since the early 1950s. We opted for this relationship willingly. Our native political culture had so accustomed us to the mould of patron-client relationships that we had to have a patron in order to have a needed sense of security. Some of our intellectual and political elites profess to be outraged by the show of our government's subservience to America. But the same elites will adopt the same posture without a second thought if time and circumstance combine to place them in positions of power.
Where do we go from here? If we are satisfied with being subservient, and if the mutterings of protest are only mutterings, nothing needs to be changed. We can continue to offer subservience in return for a fee but, as Mr Ayaz Amir has advised us repeatedly, we must not sell ourselves cheap; we must learn to be hard bargainers.
Old habits die hard. But let us assume for a moment that our rulers somehow discover that independence is one of God's gifts, and that it is to be cherished and preserved. In that event, they may learn to offer outside powers cooperation, when interests coincide, but not subservience. Great powers do sometimes use military force to coerce small states. But more often, they bring a variety of pressures to bear upon an uncooperative party.
We have seen also that these pressures can be, and are, resisted or evaded often enough. China flourished in spite of nearly 25 years of American sanctions. Cuba, Iran, and Syria have survived American disapproval and constraints. Pakistan too has had some experience of American sanctions which made life a bit difficult but not unbearable.
A smaller state is better able to resist external pressures if its own house is in reasonably good order. But if it is afflicted with unusually deep internal divisions, alienation and disaffection, ethnic or sectarian violence, persistent insecurity of life and property, widespread political and bureaucratic corruption and incompetence, its government, such as it may be, is in no position to resist the pressures of a great power, especially the one to which it is constantly looking for aid. It does not have the inner strength to stand up to negotiate or bargain.
Governments in Pakistan will do well to drop the pretence of dedication to the Muslim "ummah." The ummah is best regarded as a devotional association and, beyond that, as a civilization like Christendom. It is not a political entity. Efforts to convert it into one have got nowhere: the OIC is a do-nothing organization. Muslims have waged war against Muslims through history almost as often as Christians have fought one another.
References to the ummah in our official statements are essentially ritualistic, intended to cause the impression of activity where in fact there is none. Considering that our conduct, both personal and public, has little to do with Islamic righteousness, we should also quit the hypocritical projection of Pakistan as the chief standard bearer of Islam.
What are the objectives of a nation's foreign policy beyond the preservation of its territorial integrity and security? Some nations, when they have the requisite means, seek to control the human and material resources of other nations. This quest used to be known as imperialism and colonialism, and it has now taken modified forms of the same drive.
Pakistan, at independence, was the most advanced country in the Muslim world with regard to political, bureaucratic, and military organization, and exposure to modern education. Its leaders at the time expected that their country would be accepted as the leader of the Muslim world. But they were soon rebuffed by a new generation of anti-imperial and anti-colonial Arab leaders, beginning with Gemal Abdul Nasser in Egypt.
In Pakistan's own neighbourhood, India and China are much larger powers. Looking to the west, Iran during the last decade of the Shah's rule, was more on the giving, than receiving, end in its relations with Pakistan. At present, the ayatollahs in Tehran are more demanding than yielding, and at times, even condescending.
During the late 1990s, Pakistani policy makers, especially those in the ISI, had hopes of making Afghanistan into a client state. But the Taliban regime in that country took a lot from Pakistan and gave nothing in return. It did not even agree to accept the Durand Line as the frontier between the two countries. There was talk in Pakistan of securing a dominant position in the newly independent Central Asian Muslim republics.
This has not happened because, as compared to other aspirants for dominance in the area, Pakistan has little to offer these republics. The fact that Pakistanis are Muslim has done nothing to endear them to the latter. It follows that building spheres of influence abroad cannot be one of the rationally chosen Pakistani goals.
Next in line are relations of buying and selling, borrowing and lending, between nations. Pakistan does not have much to lend, but it is a regular borrower from foreign governments and lending institutions. Its foreign debt at this time exceeds $ 35 billion. Service charges on this debt, plus those on the domestic debt, claim more than one fourth of the government's revenues. It is agreed on all hands that Pakistan must reduce its debt-servicing obligation if it is to have resources urgently needed for modernization.
The assumption that loans taken for economic development will increase the country's revenue generating capacity, and thus its ability to repay them, has somehow not worked in Pakistan. Instead of diminishing, its foreign debt has increased over the years without bringing about correspondingly substantial accomplishments in economic development that one can see.
Coming to the exchange of goods and services, we see that skilled and semi-skilled manpower is one of Pakistan's important exports. Pakistani expatriates living and working abroad send money home, currently amounting to about $ 3.5 billion each year, which is a significant proportion of the country's foreign exchange earnings. This happens, however, in spite of, not because of, whatever our policy makers in the foreign office do.
Trade in goods between Pakistan and other nations proceeds on a modest scale. Pakistan is not a significant actor in the global economy, and its transactions in that area are not large enough to bring it political influence.
Two of the foremost among America's founding fathers, George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, counselled their young nation to have "honest commerce with all, entangling alliances with none," and to stay out of the politics of Europe, "that field of slaughter." This advice has had no takers in America itself for more than a hundred years, but I think it is eminently sensible for us in Pakistan.
As we reduce our tensions with India and our dependence on the United States, we should de-emphasize foreign policy and place a much higher priority on putting our internal house in order. In other words, we should mind our own business and let the world go where it will.
The writer is professor emeritus of political science at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, USA. E-Mail: anwarsyed@cox.net
Human rights and power politics
It has been some months since President Musharraf announced the formation of a national human rights commission and his intention to review the Hudood laws - a set of four ordinances promulgated by General Ziaul Haq in 1979.
Nothing has been heard of the commission since but Chaudhry Shujaat is using his short prime ministerial tenure to put the Hudood ordinances as well as the proposed law on honour killings on a long, tortuous course. Both will first go to a select committee and then to the Council of Islamic Ideology before the parliament votes on them. The people and the ummah, the prime minister adds, will also be consulted. How? he doesn't explain nor, perhaps, does he mean it.
The intention of the prime minister, one suspects, is to scuttle the whole scheme. This suspicion is not without a basis, for Chaudhry Shujaat has said time and again that he and his Muslim League are natural allies of the religious alliance in parliament, separated only by the passing exigencies of politics. He would be loathe to break this alliance in his short, most likely the last, stint in power. The alliance proposes to fight any amendment tooth and nail, in the mosques and on the streets, for in parliament it has no hope.
The president must intervene to get the ordinances of 1979 repealed and the new law on honour killings passed by the parliament while Chaudhry Shujaat is the prime minister and leader of the house. The ruling group has rushed constitutional amendments through the parliament in days, but now, when it has come to the repeal of laws on which a vast majority of the people, jurists and intelligentsia, all agree, references to all kinds of committees and councils are being contemplated only to pacify an intimidating minority.
It is important that Chaudhry Shujaat gets this cantankerous issue out of the way to save his technocrat successor from getting into a wrangle with the religious elements in parliament and in the streets for which he is ill-equipped. Shaukat Aziz has been selected by the president to attend to economic development and to keep politics out of administration. The purpose of his out-of-the-way appointment will be defeated if he were to be distracted from that essential task by political rows or exegesis.
In raising objections to the review of the laws in question, the fact being ignored is that they were promulgated by a martial law administrator when no representative forum was in existence. Now, the very elements who profess to uphold the sovereignty of the parliament are denying it, ironically, the right to repeal or modify the old laws and enact new ones.
Yet another fact which must not be overlooked is that the contents of these laws have brought infamy to Pakistan, and their application has caused enormous hardship to the weaker sections of the society - women and minorities in particular - without raising the moral standards of the people.
As an illustration of the Hudood laws weighing against the weak, Mr. Nasir Aslam Zahid, a retired judge of the Supreme Court, has pointed out in great anguish that while over the years thousands of women have been charged with adultery, no accuser has ever been whipped for not producing four eye witnesses to the adulterous act. The catalogue of the crimes committed by the strong under the cover of these laws, and the agony suffered by their victims compiled by human rights organizations in the country and worldwide is long and gruesome.
The people have learnt by experience that every government in Pakistan, and this one is no exception, has worked under the intimidating shadow of religious extremists. The shadows thickened under Ziaul Haq, and now under Musharraf, because liberal forces unwilling to reconcile to military hegemony were driven out of the political arena.
The creatures of Zia's bigotry have been able to carve out a place for themselves in Musharraf's politics of moderation. Ejazul Haq to whom Ziaul Haq was not just a father but a hero and a martyr is now minister for religious affairs to defend his legacy. His comment that the intention is not to repeal but to improve (i.e. to make harsher) the Hudood and Blasphemy laws promotes Zia's militancy and not Musharraf's moderation.
At present, the indications are that all the parties in parliament barring the 60 or so members belonging to the MMA religious alliance would vote for the repeal or reform of the Blasphemy and Hudood laws. The president, therefore, should not let Shujaat dither or delay.
The vote will cut the behemoth of the religious parties to their parliamentary size and, at the same time, throw new bridges across the chasm that divides the ruling coalition from the liberal groups in the opposition. When the raw wounds start healing, may be the liberal political forces on both sides will coalesce to sideline the extremists and the reactionaries. That would truly reflect the national ethos.
Whatever the outcome of the efforts to repeal or reform the unjust laws, and without waiting for it, it is important to have, on an urgent basis, an independent commission which examines the articles of the Constitution and all the other laws and social practices which deny equal rights to the citizens. The commission would also recommend to parliament and government, to enforce the rights as they stand.
The Muslims of Gujarat and Kashmir and the dalits (untouchables) all over, persecuted or discriminated by the local authorities, have enormously benefited by the intervention of India's human rights commission. So would the wronged people here if Pakistan were to have such a commission. President Musharraf needs to be reminded that he announced its formation some months ago.
Wages of a mis-spelt name
You do not need to send out a circular for Delhi to become sycophancy-compliant. It comes with the union territory. The sycophancy of Delhi's ruling class is non-partisan and non-communal. It is offered to anyone in power, irrespective of whether the gods themselves want the offering or not. This does not mean that the divinities are not pleased by the homage. It is a rare god who is immune to flattery.
The more intelligent forms of divine life expect subtler forms of homage, and subtlety itself becomes an indicator of the supplicant's abilities, which in turn must be appropriately rewarded. For this is a give-and-take game. There is nothing called a one-way street in the corridors of power although the occasional unfortunate has been known to get trapped in a cul de sac.
Sensible bureaucrats know that there is never any harm in leaving a pat of butter beside the politician's daily bread. The gesture does not have to be ostentatious. Only the vulgar demand excess, and this is a good moment to note that vulgarity is not the exclusive of any particular race or class. Indeed, the rich have far more means to exhibit their vulgarity.
'The Case of the Mis-spelt Name' is a classic Delhi tale. The text is poignant. The sub-texts are hilarious, or, at the very least, tragic-comic. For the uninitiated, here are the details.
Kewal Krishna Chugh is a programme officer at the Indian Council for Cultural Relations (ICCR), a worthy government organization sated with good intentions. It is headed by a public figure of varying degrees of lustre, but run by professional bureaucrats of the Indian Foreign Service (IFS). Its purpose is to showcase Indian culture to the world, and mirror the world's culture (as defined by the world's governments) to India. In practice, this means that the ICCR can send Indian artistes to various famous and vague parts of the world. Classical dancers are its favourite export, but it has been known to send qawwali troupes to Central Asia as well.
A parallel function is to host foreign cultural ensembles in India. So when the Chinese want to send acrobats, or the Koreans musicians, ICCR welcomes them and provides them with an audience. The ICCR also organizes estimable functions like the one for the presentation of the Jawaharlal Nehru Award for International Understanding on July 9. For such purposes it has acquired a permanent bureaucracy that spreads its domestic wing across the country, and soars abroad to perch in specific, culturally important cities. If you chance upon a centre for Indian culture in Cairo, for instance, then thank the ICCR.
Krishna Chugh, obviously a north Indian (I mention this, because it is an important element of one sub-text), is a programme officer at the ICCR. He has worked for 32 years and has another five to go before he retires. What eventually turned into the most dramatic assignment of his career began lift as a routine matter. He was put in charge of sending out the 1,800 invitations to Very Important Persons for the Nehru Award function. Among them was Priyanka Gandhi Vadra, daughter of Mrs Sonia Gandhi and wife of Mr Robert Vadra.
There was a minor problem in the invitation. Her surname was spelt "Vadhera" rather than Vadra. Someone from Mrs Vadra's office took the trouble of pointing out this error. So far, so normal.
Before we proceed, and since her name has been now mentioned, it would be fair to point out that Mrs Priyanka Vadra cannot be held responsible for anything that happened to Mr Chugh. I doubt if she read the invitation too carefully. These things appear by the basketful at VIP residences in Delhi, and end up, without making history, as part of some wastepaper-basketful.
The person in her office was also doing nothing more than correcting a minor mistake for future reference - a perfectly legitimate act on the part of any secretary. As Priyanka pointed out when the details tumbled out, she gets some 500 cards a day. I would be surprised if she knew anything about the matter. Even if she does not, yet, have a country to run, she has other things to do.
But the wheels of sycophancy began to grind the moment the "protest" about the mis-spelling reached ICCR. When such wheels grind, they have to make mincemeat of somebody. Some scapegoat has to be slaughtered.
And so one morning when he reached office, Krishna Chugh says he got an office memo saying that the director-general of ICCR, Rakesh Kumar, an IFS officer, was very angry, and demanded an explanation. Mr Chugh apologized to the DG, added that he had made every effort to avoid the mistake, and then apologized to 10 Janpath as well.
But he was relieved of his post, and then, through the relevant departmental promotions committee, transferred to Thiruvananthapuram, along with a colleague, T.J Varghese. Mr Chugh protested, and when he was ignored went to the Delhi High Court. His complaint was injustice; Kerala was a punishment posting, not a promotion.
Why?
We must now shift, in our search for justice, to what Hercule Poirot often called the psychology of the individual. Our first individual is Mr Chugh. He has put in 32 years of work and has only another five left. He is settled in Delhi, and looks forward to a pleasant sunset at ICCR. What greater punishment can there be for an ageing Punjabi than solitary confinement in the furthest tip of India, as distant from family and friends as could be, ignorant of local language or customs.
As the crow flies, Tehran is much closer to Punjab than Thiruvananthapuram. The cultural distance is equal. His colleague Mr Varghese (possibly a Syrian Christian from Kottayam), was being given the kind of last post that long years of service merit. Mr Chugh was getting shafted.
And now to the psychology of the second individual: the boss. One of the characteristics of the sycophant is that subservience to his master is matched by the virulence of his anger against the slave. It is, possibly, some sadistic method of expiation of guilt. It is, of course, equally possible that I am entering psychological territory about which I know damn-all. However, no mercy is ever shown to a scapegoat.
Mr Chugh decided that he was not going to be a goat. He did not expect redress from higher authority. He knew that in this case higher authority was punishing him to appease some even higher authority, perhaps the minister, in the hope of some juicy reward. (Opportunities thin out the higher you travel towards the bureaucratic stratosphere.) Mr Chugh must also have known that the IFS supports its own, and would have sniffed away a mere programme officer. And so he challenged the power of the system through the power of the judge. His case came before Justice Manmohan Sarin.
One element of his plea was particularly interesting, and became a mitigating factor in the stay on transfer. Mr Chugh told the court that he had done all he could to ensure that the spelling was correct. He checked with MTNL (proving how the phone directory must be in a mess), websites (you have been warned) and the people at 10 Janpath, where Mrs Sonia Gandhi lives. No one corrected him. So what do we infer? That Mr Chugh was not immune to the change of power equations in Delhi. It is safe to assume that even if he had any doubts about the 1,799 other invitees, he did not double or triple check.
Second, Mr Chugh sensed that "Vadhera" did not seem right. For one thing, there is a Sindhi air about it. "Vadhera" means landlord in Sindh and while a prized title, does not exist outside that province. So neither Mr Chugh's diligence, nor his sense of reality, could be faulted. But the judge laid his hand unerringly on the key point: "The adage - what is there in a name - does not carry any conviction with the authorities. An error for which a reasonable explanation was tendered by the petitioner should not have invited a punitive transfer simply because it concerns those who are in the higher echelons of power."
Moral of the story? Court the courts. Everyone is doing it, whether on reservation of jobs for Muslims or Punjab's abrogation of water treaties, so why not you?
It is often alleged that law and order have collapsed in India. That is wrong. Order may have collapsed. That is because politicians are in charge of order. The law remains upright, because judges are in charge of law.
The writer is editor-in-chief of Asian Age, New Delhi.