Rope enough to hang oneself with

Amongst the worries of the people frequently in the media is the matter of over-exposure. Old hands are aware of the need to discriminate between the various shows they appear on as well as keep a close watch on how frequently they appear on-screen, the shows’ contexts and their own roles within them.

This is because public personalities are to a great extent defined and understood through the roles they play in the media. The actor Sylvester Stallone, for example, is to many people synonymous with Rambo. Furthermore, an actor who is too indiscriminate in terms of the roles he takes on, or is on screen too often, runs the risk of spreading himself too thin and of rendering himself over-familiar to the audience. The actor risks losing his credibility to over-exposure.

The retired general Musharraf would do well to dwell on this. Always a gregarious personality, these days he’s granting interviews to the media left, right and centre, in Pakistan and across the world. And during these performances – they cannot be called anything else given the sort of things he’s taken to saying – he frequently manages to put his foot firmly in his mouth.

What Mr Musharraf appears not to have realised is the fact that when he appears on ‘Aiwan-i-Saddar’ or CNN, he is playing a role: that of the president of a country talking to the media. He must therefore watch very carefully what he says and how he says it. That is why politicians generally have scripted speeches written by a team of media-savvy people: the wrong word can cause wars at worst and embarrass the nation at best. Why do politicians sometimes refer back to their speech rather than answer the question directly? Because any opinion or conclusion, even one made in jest, becomes akin to a formal statement. Once it has been reported in the media, it becomes a matter of record.

Mr Musharraf may think that the recent outrage regarding his statements against senior journalist M. Ziauddin were just a storm in a teacup. He is vastly mistaken: when the president of a country says something like that in a public gathering, the whole takes on an importance greater than the sum of its parts. He is talking about how he, in his official capacity, thinks journalists should be treated.

Speaking like a pro

There is also the matter of language and grammar. One of the talents vital to public speaking is the ability to assemble coherent sentences within one’s head and to take an argument to its logical conclusion. If one doesn’t have this talent – and, being reasonable, we don’t expect a soldier to necessarily be a debater as well – please, stick to the vetted speech.

But Mr Musharraf has supreme faith in his ability to talk himself out of any crisis. So it is that we have a situation where one man can not only hold a hundred and sixty million people hostage, he can also make them instantly cringe in embarrassment. One of the tightest spots during the retired general’s career was when he stood up to defend the actions he took on Nov 3. His speech was so incredible that BBC journalist M. Hanif felt constrained to listen to it again. This is what he then wrote in an article too spectacular not to be quoted:

“[…] in the middle of his speech when everyone was silently urging him to get to the point, losing the thread of his diatribe about how judicial activism was responsible for the rise of jihadis in Pakistan, he abruptly said, ‘I have imposed emergency,’ then looked into the camera, waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and said, ‘You must have seen it on TV.’

“He forgot to mention that he had pulled the plug on all television channels except the state-run television. It might sound like old-school dictator talk, but just imagine if somebody took away your television and then told you, ‘Oh, did you see that thing on TV?’ […]

“He[Musharraf] seemed to be having an out of body experience: there he sat in his sherwani reading an order written by his uniformed alter ego, wagging a finger at himself, accusing his own government of spreading terrorism.

“And let’s not forget that when I say Pakistani government, I mean General Pervez Musharraf.

“Here are some random things he said. And trust me, these things were said quite randomly:

“Yes, he did say, ‘Extremism bahut extreme ho gaya hai (extremism has become too extreme).’

“‘Hum se koi darta hi nahin (nobody is scared of us anymore).’

“‘Islamabad mein extremist bharay houay hain (Islamabad is full of extremists).’

“‘Hakumat ke andar hakumat bana rakhi hai (there is a government within government).’

“‘Har waqt bas court ke chakkar lagatey rehtay hain (officials are being asked to go to the courts every other day).’

“‘Officials ki beizzati kartay hain (officials are being insulted by the judiciary).’

“At one point he appeared wistful when reminiscing about his first three years in power — ‘mera total control thha (I had total control).’ You were almost tempted to ask: What happened then, uncle?”

As a matter of fact

Mr Musharraf’s utterances are now out there for ever, ready to be referred to by any researcher. He would therefore benefit from basing his statements on the truth. Before using world capitals as forums through which to level allegations against the chief justice of his country, for example, Mr Musharraf may have liked to consider which ones could be proved or disproved. He appears to remember the chief justice addressing the media upon the issue of his detention and forced removal from office; archival newspaper and television material, however, record exactly what the chief justice said when, and to whom.

The retired general thinks that the media are pawns that he can manipulate at will: silence the channels or gag the press when he feels like it, use them to launch what he thinks is a charm offensive when it suits him. The thing to remember, however, is that by giving people the space to say what they like in words of their own choosing, the media also give people the right to destroy their own credibility. He may think that the media can be easily roped in – what he doesn’t realise is that the media can also offer him the rope to hang himself with.

Postscript: Going around on the SMSvine: Hazrat! Itilah mili hai kay teen khudkush hamla-awar sheher main daakhil ho chukay hain. Un ki lambi umer kay liye dua kijiye.

— hmumtaz@dawn.com

Comment: POA polls unlikely to change depressing sports scenario

The president of Pakistan Olympic Association (POA), Lt. Gen (retd) Syed Arif Hasan, has decided to play his cards by holding the quadrennial election in Lahore on Saturday - exactly a month and two days before his present term expires.

He was voted to power on March 11, 2004, heralding a new era which brought to an end more than two-decade reign of all-time powerful president, Syed Wajid Ali Shah.

The gimmick to conduct the polls earlier than the scheduled date and just days before the country’s general elections has raised doubts of foul play and, in all probability, will give the incumbents a smooth passage for another term.

For a person with rich military background, a term of four years in power seems to be more than enough to elevate the level of whatever responsibility he has chosen for himself. But sadly, the period presents a bleak picture and a gloomy future.

Be it the Olympics, Asian Games or disciplines like hockey, boxing, snooker, squash, athletics and sailing to name a few, the men in green suffered humiliations at the hands of novices and finished among the also ran lot.

A quick glance shows Pakistan did not figure on the medals table of 2004 Athens Olympics as they had done at the 2000 Sydney Games and the 1996 Atlanta Games before that. Pakistan picked up their last Olympic medal, a bronze in hockey, in 1992 at Barcelona, almost 16 years from now.

As far as Asian Games are concerned, the Pakistani athletes drew blank on the gold medal count and could only fetch one silver and three bronze at Doha two years back.

Pakistan, who once ruled the region particularly in hockey and track and field, finished just above Sri Lanka, Laos, Turkmenistan, Nepal, Afghanistan, Bangladesh and Yemen, a pathetic performance by any standard.

Compared to that, neighboring India fetched a total of 54 medals — 10-18-26 — to attain an overall eighth place on the table at the Doha Games.

It seems that Pakistan is content about measuring up to the level of only the South Asian Games although the officials keep blowing their trumpets on every occasion. To add to this depressing scenario, Pakistan faced embarrassment when its six athletes were stripped of their gold medals after being tested positive in the last two South Asian Games.

Pugilist Noman Karim and lifters Akbar Ali, Alimuddin Kakar and Hasan Aslam Khan had to surrender their gold medals at the 2004 Islamabad Games while boxers Meherullah and Faisal Karim were penalised at Colombo in 2006.

Meanwhile, according to official figures, the Pakistan Sports Trust (PST) spent a huge amount of Rs190 million in returns of securing fewer medals and on the uplift of sports since its coming into being in January 2005.

The details of the lavish disbursement were unveiled at a meeting of the PST’s Board of Governors in Karachi on Jan 22, the day when SOA elections also took place.

While the PST could be given some credit for raising huge amount of funds through its own resources, the question remains that whether that served any purpose or not? The sponsors and people who donated generously for the cause have the right to question its improper utilisation.

The country’s sports graph has reached an all-time low but officials are busy making merry through all-expenses paid trips.

All said and done. No big changes are in the offing and a hand-picked Pakistan Olympic Association (POA) officials are expected to return to power ‘unopposed’ as has been done in Sindh and Punjab under its umbrella.