Europe & the emperor’s new clothes
By Shadaba Islam
MANY years ago, as a young and inexperienced journalist covering European Union (EU) affairs in Brussels, I was given precious, friendly advice by a much-respected senior Indian colleague: “Dress well and conduct yourself with dignity,” Malcolm Subhan told me. “Remember, for many Europeans, you are the only Pakistani they will ever meet. Like it or not, you are effectively your country’s ambassador.”
I remember at the time, I protested vociferously. It was too heavy a burden to carry. “It’s alright for Indians,” I complained. “You have Gandhi and democracy.” But what on earth could Pakistan, with its turbulent history of religious violence, extremism, military coups, meddling in neighbours’ affairs, and mistreatment of women, children and minorities, be proud of? And for all our frequent nostalgic yearning for home, why would any Pakistani man or woman voluntarily take on the difficult task of trying to represent – albeit informally - his/her country abroad?
Malcolm was right of course. In a stressed-out world of snap judgments, all expatriates end up being their country’s – often reluctant - envoys. And as most of us have discovered to our alarm and dismay since General Pervez Musharraf imposed emergency rule earlier this month, for Pakistanis abroad, there is no hiding place.
Rich or poor, integrated or marginalised, erudite or clueless, we have no choice: As Pakistan lurches from crisis to crisis and Musharraf’s pained face stares out from every single international television news channel, it’s the hapless expatriates who get the short end of the stick.
True, this is not the first time in Pakistan’s volatile history that we have had to explain the erroneous ways of a military ruler or the whimsical and often corrupt policies of civilian leaders. And there is no denying that Pakistani ambassadors and other diplomats also have to fend off pointed questions about Musharraf’s erratic conduct and misrule.
EU policymakers say they are ‘worried and concerned’ about the general’s clampdown on lawyers, reporters and human rights activists. EU governments want the political prisoners released, an end to emergency rule and free and fair elections. More outspoken members of the European Parliament have used slightly stronger words to denounce Musharraf’s recent string of bizarre actions. Take off your uniform, they all urge the general.
But first, most of these comments and queries are couched in polite language normally associated with the rarefied world of international diplomacy. Second, diplomats are trained and paid to lie/spin/mislead in the name of the president and the country. Third, because of that reputation, no one believes diplomats anyway.
Out here in the rough and ready real world, however, discussions about Pakistan tend to be tougher. EU policymakers and journalists are of course the most curious – and the most alarmed – about the current state of disarray in Pakistan. But questions about events in the country come quick and fast from many sources: friends and neighbours, academics, students, shopkeepers, taxi drivers, hairdressers, even fellow airplane passengers.
Most Europeans are shocked by the recent turn of events. Uniformed leaders are not popular in Europe, reminding many of their own recent history of unsavoury military dictatorships in Spain, Portugal and Greece. Europeans also have strong fears about Pakistan’s nuclear programme, its reputation as a haven for terrorists and home to religious extremists. Questions therefore centre on the situation in Waziristan and Swat and Pakistan’s stop-start promises to rein in the activities of the Taliban in neighbouring Afghanistan.
Increasingly, however, it’s Pakistan’s political future that is capturing Europeans’ interest. Given the vast number of foreign reporters currently in Pakistan – and more seeking to go to the country — most newspapers and TV channels on the continent are full of news about Pakistan. And this, inevitably, leads to more and more questions.
Top of the list, as the Pakistani tragi-comedy unfolds on our TV screens – with images of policemen battling lawyers, arresting reporters, hauling away Imran Khan beamed into every home — are queries about the president’s mental state. As one colleague never fails to ask every time he sees me: “Tell me: has Musharraf lost the plot completely?”
Nobody is fooled by Islamabad’s rhetoric that the current repression will somehow, miraculously consolidate democracy in the country. And nobody believes that even if the state of emergency is lifted and the president starts wearing civilian clothes, the upcoming elections will be free and fair.
More restrained EU diplomats note with concern that the president seems more intent on holding on to power than in promoting democracy. They appear especially troubled that the crackdown has focused on democrats and moderates – “the very people Pakistan needs to confront the challenge of extremism”, as one EU official told me.
With the spotlight on civil society heroes and heroines, including ousted Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry, less attention is being paid to the once-adored Benazir Bhutto whose reputation and credibility have been visibly dented by her on-off political dalliance with Musharraf. Former cricket star Imran Khan’s emergence as a political hero was in the headlines for a week or so. But it’s Nawaz Sharif’s tough stance which continues to draw the most comment.
The International Federation of Journalists, (IFJ) meanwhile, has mounted a determined campaign against the government’s attempts to crush the media. “We believe that President Pervez Musharraf has crossed all bounds in seeking to continue his autocratic rule by muzzling the voice of media, and pledge never to give up the fight for press freedom and the people’s right to know,” according to a declaration issued by the IFJ.
The decision to suspend Pakistan’s membership taken by Commonwealth “pending restoration of democracy and the rule of law” will certainly trigger even more interest and curiosity in EU capitals. This means additional hard work for Pakistan’s spin doctors, both at home and abroad. But since few give credence to Islamabad’s rapidly-changing official rhetoric, it also means more difficult questions addressed to Pakistan’s equally hard-working expatriates.
The writer is Dawn’s correspondent based in Brussels.

