Flipping television channels recently, I caught the phrase “Aayen mil keh Pakistan ka naam roshan karain” at least a dozen times within as many minutes on different stations. Musharraf said it, Pervaiz Elahi said it, the couple of men from Mardan said it during an on-the-road election show … the phrase was even used to sell soap, for heavens’ sake. And it occurred to me that, no, instead of working on “naam roshan karna”, I’d prefer us to be aiming for merely “Pakistan roshan karna.”

I have no delusions of grandeur — my president tells me that I’m an insignificant person, that I’m unable to see the big picture or the beauty of his vision. Who am I to disagree, particularly when the gun-barrel prodding me in the back is sufficient proof that I am also supremely dispensable. So I restrict my hopes and desires to the very ordinary; I don’t ask for miracles, all I need are ordinary things such as a sufficient – I don’t even ask for plentiful – supply of items indispensable to my life: electricity, water, gas, wheat, sugar, edible oil and suchlike. (I’d like to ask for some basic human rights too but I’m afraid of pushing my luck.)

But ok, there’s little to be gained from indulging in sarcasm, particularly when the people I’m addressing are not listening. It occurs to me, however, that in terms of making a name for itself, Pakistan has more than done the needful and it is now really time for it to rest upon its laurels.

I’d never thought it possible but matters have come to such a pass that I find myself looking back with some fondness to the times when the mention of my nationality would elicit a question about whether the methods of transportation “over there” involved horse and camel fodder. How I regret the impatience and disdain with which I used to react then. Today, I’m finding that the world is not only far too well aware of my country’s past, present and the looming question mark of its future, those who ought to have led us from strength to strength did little but wash the national dirty laundry in public.

Gen (retd) Musharraf would, of course, blame the media for this sorry state of affairs and denounce journalists for making public the problems that embarrass and humiliate the citizenry. He has done precisely this on a number of occasions, in fact. But he’s missing the point, as he tends to in so many cases.

Given that the country is facing so many, and such myriad issues, it is perhaps a good thing that they are being discussed nationally and internationally since only then can potential solutions and avenues of redressal be found. The point for the president to ponder, however, is why we are facing these issues at all, how far his own regime was complicit, by either commission or omission, in creating them, and how far the decisions made by earlier governments – particularly military dispensations – contributed to our current status of international stardom.

The point is simple yet subtle and one of vital importance given that the elections (if they are held) are just a few days away. Commentators and observers are falling over themselves to take a side in the discussion about whether or not the earlier Bhutto/Sharif regimes were better than the Musharraf years, and whether military or democratic rule proved better for Pakistan.

The Bhutto vs Sharif vs Musharraf debate takes entirely the wrong track. Democracy is important, not because the democratic leaders we have experienced were better but because under it the politicians themselves have a stake in the system and cannot afford to weaken the fabric of society too far. Leaders elected in all faith and all fairness can turn out to be corrupt or insincere, but once their credibility is destroyed in the eyes of the electorate, the voters can themselves prevent their return to power. While democracy is no magic wand, it does at least serve to level the playing field.

Because of this, democracy also means having to put up for some time with leaders that prove themselves myopic, misguided or render themselves unpopular. After all, it was during Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s government that the seeds of the ISI’s political cell, the infamous FSF, were sown. And Nawaz Sharif may be looking good today, but he’s the same one who once upon a time attempted to have himself crowned the Amir-ul-Momineen.

But – and it’s a very important but – the electorate has to bear an unpopular democratic government for only the given term, after which those who have been found lacking can be voted out. In Pakistan, the legitimate term of an elected government is five years but we’ve already borne the retired general for eight years. Nawaz Sharif and Asif Zaradari are working hard to make up for their tarnished images but all the next army general has to do is cite the doctrine of necessity and stamp his way in. The trouble with demanding of a general “Oh yeah? You and whose army?” is that all he has to do is point out of the window.

While examining the political traditions of Pakistan and India, Shekhar Gupta recently wrote in the Khaleej Times that “A modern nation needs democracy and so it needs its politicians, however clumsy, corrupt, effete and power-crazed they may be. Because a military dictator can also be all of these things. The difference is, the political leader draws his power from the democratic process, so he has a stake in preserving that system, howsoever cynical he may be. The general draws his power by throttling the democratic system and its institutions and you can see the results of that in Pakistan. […] We, the [Indian] media, can question and curse who we want. It happens because the political class has the biggest stake in the democratic process, howsoever much it may wish to manipulate it. In contrast, a military dictator owes his power to the absence of institutions, of checks and balances. That is exactly what Musharraf has done to his judiciary, the election commission and even the media.”

So it that before we begin to upbraid the world and then some for “meddling in our internal affairs,” as the retired general refers to it, it is vital for him to put his own house in order. The government has not yet managed to ensure an adequate supply of electricity, water or gas to its citizens; there is a shortage of a whole host of essential items, including dietary staples; significant portions of the country’s territories are in a state of war and the booted ones are bombing their own people; secessionist feelings are rife in more than one province and an increasing number of citizens are beginning to question the viability of the federation. And yet, the smug ones refer to our nuclear arsenal with satisfaction and take umbrage when someone expresses disbelief in their ability to defend them!

So, it seems, we can defend our nuclear weapons but we can’t ensure the proper disposal of solid waste in a city like Karachi, which has admitted its failure and farmed the task out to the Chinese.

As a friend recently said, imagine that you live next door to a family whose lawn is unwatered and the plants are dying, whose children constantly beat each up and the head of the household falls ever deeper in debt, whose housekeeper is slatternly, the larder is empty and the utilities are one by one being cut off because of the non-payment of bills. And then you hear that they’ve gone and bought 400 kilogrammes of TNT and are storing it in a house where everybody smokes. I don’t know about you, but I know I’d be worried!

Post-script: According to Imam Shafi, “All humans are dead except those who have knowledge ... and all those who have knowledge are asleep, except those who do good deeds ... and those who do good deeds are deceived, except those who are sincere ... and those who are sincere are always in a state of worry.” How worried are you?

— hmumtaz@dawn.com