THE escalating violence in the country is frightening. Still more frightening is the shape it is taking. Somewhere it has turned communal, somewhere regional and somewhere ideological.

Whatever the direction, it indicates a trend where the rule of law is lessening and where the use of force is gaining legitimacy.

So wide is the compass of violence that the tainted security forces cannot provide an answer. In fact, a thana is no more a police station. It represents a centre of excesses. Can an ordinary person go there and expect fair treatment, much less a fair trial? Still, Home Minister Shivraj Patil announced the raising of more battalions — as if force can solve all problems.

It is obvious that certain issues have been awaiting serious tackling for a long time. Letting them fester is not going to help. The nation has been witness to this for years. Some basic decisions have to be taken to sort them out. This is not peculiar to India. The entire region suffers from this malady. Problems are allowed to pile up. Then comes a time when governments and people begin to live with them because touching the status quo is considered as stirring up a hornet’s nest.

India has a National Integration Council that draws its members from political parties, including the regional ones, the chief ministers and some intellectuals. Jawaharlal Nehru created it. I imagined Prime Minister Manmohan Singh would have convened its meeting, particularly when it has not met for years. It could have discussed eruptions or mini-mutinies going on here and there, with a view to adopting some ground rules in the spirit of consensus.

At least, the parties should not stoke the fires if they cannot douse them. Instead, I find some parties arming their cadre for jumping into the fray to make space for themselves. The Naxalites, however misdirected, are at least candid and say that they do not believe in the ballot box. Their trail is marked by blood and it is visible.

But what is disconcerting is that others who vow faith in the parliamentary system are equally violent when it comes to their own interest. They may well sing the song of democracy, but they are behind none in resorting to the worst type of methods to achieve their ends. Had they been carrying out their exercise in some hideouts, they would not have harmed society.

Their doings are having an ominous fallout. The public is beginning to equate violence with the democratic system. Confidence is turning into cynicism. Indeed, the machinery to enforce the law has become an instrument of tyranny in the hands of the rulers. Opponents know it to their cost. The worse is that the security forces stage false encounters to eliminate opponents and trump up cases to justify the killings.

The most contaminated lot is that of the civil servants. The Economist, an influential weekly from London, recently ran a cover story to point out that the 100 million-strong force of civil servants in India is the biggest barrier in the way of faster growth and equitable distribution. Ethical considerations which once guided public servants have been generally dim and in many cases beyond their mental grasp. The desire for self-preservation has become the sole motivation for their actions and behaviour.

Manmohan Singh’s pep talks to them to work hard and honestly are of no avail. They have lost the awareness of what is right and do not realise what is wrong. On the other hand, people are finding the dividing line between right and wrong, the moral and immoral, to be sinking in the sands of opportunism and oppression. They are confused. No wonder, they are taken in by promises of a demagogue, or the gun shown by a so-called deliverer.

Political parties still do not realise that an appeal to violence is dangerous because of its inherently disruptive character. We have too many fissiparous tendencies to risk the use of force. Violence, even otherwise, produces an atmosphere of conflict and disruption. It is absurd to imagine that out of the conflict, socially progressive forces will emerge, as the Left in India tends to believe.

There is inherent unity which foreigners, even Indians, marvel at. I recall that when I was India’s high commissioner in London, the Soviet Union was tottering. Margaret Thatcher, then British prime minister, told me about the advice she had tendered to Moscow: learn from the example of India which had stayed together for hundreds of years despite people professing different religions, following different castes and speaking different languages. She asked me what I attributed this to. It took me some time to explain to her that we in India did not divide things into black and white. We believed that there was a grey area which we have been expanding for decades. That represented India’s pluralism.

Seventeen years later, I feel that what I told Mrs Thatcher is changing perceptibly. The spirit of tolerance or the sense of accommodation providing glue to our integration is drying up. Such parties which are trying to deny or defeat the ethos of secularism are harming the country’s unity and catholicity. They have their own agenda and want to pursue it even at the expense of the nation’s togetherness. India can disintegrate like the Soviet Union if the nation does not awaken to the dangers of conflict and clash. Political parties should not only eschew violence but also the language of violence which instils division and hatred. The situation is too disconcerting to be left alone.

Take Gujarat. There is still no repentance in the state. The Madhya Pradesh government takes back cases of violence against the RSS men. However, respect for the supreme court of India goes up when it sets up a committee headed by retired, respected police officials to look into the cases in Gujarat where there was no adequate probe to identify the guilty. I wish that political parties like the BJP would appreciate India’s ethos of pluralism because the courts of law cannot go beyond a point.

The writer is a leading journalist based in Delhi.

THE other day I happened to read an interesting debate on the control of nuclear weapons. The argument between the two writers was whether civilians or generals should control nuclear weapons. A popular argument is that uniformed personnel should not have control over these weapons as they might have a greater itch to push the button.

The other side of the argument is that considering the nature of political instability in Pakistan, it is the generals rather than the politicians who provide stability. Thus they should be the ones dealing with strategic weapons. Ultimately, this is not an ‘either or’ issue. Nuclear weapons will only be deployed during a crisis once there is consensus among the leadership, both civilian and military, at that time on whether the country is willing to use the option.

Given that Pakistan is improving its relations with India, it is hoped that the need will not arise at all. In fact, several Indian authors have also written about the rationality of Pakistani generals. For example, Rear Admiral (retd) Raja Menon, a prominent Indian strategic analyst, is of the view that the Pakistani military withdrew from forward positions during the Kargil crisis because the generals thought rationally and were in no mood to escalate tensions. It is when the military is open to discussing the crisis that the nation will get to know in what segments of the government rationality prevailed.

In the aforementioned debate, one of the writers pointed out that a civilian prime minister ought to get the briefing. From recent reports it seems that the new premier was given the necessary briefing about defence matters. The only issue relates to what he was told and how much he understood.

The recent history of Kargil shows that the prime minister might have been briefed about the operation but not in depth or he didn’t comprehend what was being explained to him (according to an intercepted telephonic conversation between Generals Musharraf and Aziz, the then Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif was briefed on the issue). So, a new prime minister might not actually have a finger on the button but he has to understand in depth the consequences of such a deployment.

However, the more important point made during the discussion focused on the dispersal of nuclear weapons. The argument was that the dispersal of weapons during a crisis could bring about strategic stability since the adversary would not know exactly where to strike. The problem is that the issue of dispersal is closely linked with the country’s internal security scenario.

Given the fact that there is a civil war kind of a situation in two provinces, there aren’t too many options available for the dispersal of weapons. Pakistan has enough professional generals who would be nervous about keeping assets in places where they are less sure of keeping control. The presence of the Taliban in the tribal areas, who have slowly begun to operate close to the settled areas of the Frontier province, does not make deployment in the Frontier a viable option.

The same goes for Balochistan where the armed forces are fighting another war. Recently, two officers of the Military Intelligence were killed in the province. This leaves Punjab and Sindh which also means that although the enemy might still have to search for a needle in a haystack, the size of this stack has become smaller. This raises all sorts of concerns for those worried about the security of the country from outside and within.

Hence, the larger threat to Pakistan’s security is more of a clear and present danger from internal turmoil. This threat might not dissipate until and unless there is a consensus on containing the jihadis completely. Although the military is fighting a war against terrorists, other elements have recently been let off. There is no surety that the Pashtun or Punjabi Taliban would change their tactics after the peace accord.

In fact, as reports indicate, some jihadi organisations such as Jaish-i-Mohammad and Hizb-ul-Mujahideen have resurfaced and held a gathering in Muzaffarabad. Questions must also be asked about deploying Sufi Muhammad of the TSNM to undermine his son-in-law Maulvi Fazlullah who is backed by the Pashtun Taliban. The release of the militants is an approach which might not bode well for the security of nuclear weapons or that of the country in general.

Referring to the issue of civilian versus military control of the weapons what goes without saying is that it is impossible to expect a greater civilian insight into nuclear command and control-related issues. It is precisely the control of the strategic weapons which makes the country and the military high command interesting to the international community that is concerned about the safety and security of nuclear weapons in Pakistan.

Despite that, the Pentagon and the US State Department have established a series of programmes to train Pakistani officers on the security of nuclear assets. There is a certain nervousness in the world which might not necessarily be a commentary on the professionalism of the armed forces. For example, a number of countries including our close friend China is worried about the influence of the jihadis and the Taliban who are constantly making forays into its territory.

Sources indicate that between last year and this year, more than a couple of times the borders were temporarily sealed to stop the inflow of undesirable people into China. Given the menace of the Taliban, even Beijing might be apprehensive regarding the security of Pakistani nuclear assets.

This threat also makes it important for the international community to keep Pakistani authorities engaged in discussion. Since the control is comfortably with the generals, international governments tend to talk to the GHQ in Rawalpindi rather than the prime minister’s office in Islamabad. So, the weapons, which were meant for the security of the entire nation, are also useful in raising the value of the military high command.

Officers are being given opportunities for training abroad and there is a constant dialogue on nuclear security matters. Given the circumstances, there is very little possibility that the command and control will be passed on to the civilian head of government. In any case, the new civilian leadership, which is currently engaged in its own political battles, will have to prove its worth before it is let into the highly secretive world of nuclear decision-making. The issue of who will eventually be the prime minister will have to be decided first before anyone can suggest a strategic transfer of power.

The writer is an independent strategic and political analyst.

ayesha.ibd@gmail.com

LAST year we celebrated the 60th anniversary of our independence. As we look back, we can see many instances that we can truly be proud of. Gaining independence in 1947 was itself a momentous occasion.

We have produced a Nobel laureate, developed the nuclear bomb, built a highway on the roof of the world and excelled in sports notably cricket, hockey and squash. We have weathered many crises, survived and progressed.

Unfortunately, whatever little progress we have made is offset by the huge problems faced by our population. A third of our population lives below the poverty line and a quarter just above it, deprived of the basic needs of education, housing and food. Clean drinking water in homes is a luxury available to only a minority. The vast majority remain deprived of access to social and legal justice as they are of their civic rights. Millions live a hand to mouth existence, not knowing from where their next meal will come. Millions remain unemployed.

Our health indicators make for sorry reading. We have one of the highest prevalence rates of child mortality, tuberculosis, hepatitis, rabies, hypertension and diabetes. The list is endless.

Of course, when we talk of health, most people including health professionals and policymakers refer to physical health only. What is hardly ever mentioned, but remains an integral part of health, is mental health, enshrined in the World Health Organisation’s (WHO) landmark definition of health as “a state of complete physical, mental and social wellbeing and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity”.

Mental health problems afflict more than 450 million people worldwide, and are on the rise. WHO estimates that by 2020, globally, after heart disease, depression would be the second most common disorder causing disability and distress, exacerbating human suffering that will be difficult to contain with the resources available, currently or in the future.

For developing countries like Pakistan these findings have grave implications. Studies have shown that the prevalence of common mental disorders (CMD) like depression and anxiety is abnormally high even when compared to other developing countries with similar socio-economic indicators. Even by conservative estimates, more than a third of our adult population is suffering from CMDs. This includes almost 10 per cent of our men and more than a quarter of the women.

Translated in real numbers this would amount to almost four million adult men and 10 million adult women. Add to this the one to two per cent suffering from serious mental illnesses like schizophrenia, three to four million from drug addiction, one to two per cent of children suffering from mental retardation, probably another 10 per cent children from other mental disorders and countless others from various psychosomatic disorders like high blood pressure and ulcers — and we have, literally, millions of our people suffering from mental health-related problems.

Where are these millions ending up? How are their problems being addressed? What is being done to relieve their suffering? The sad but true answer is: nothing much. Our health spending is only around one per cent of GDP. Mental health does not even have a separate budget. One can add to this the extreme shortage of psychiatrists — the ratio is about one psychiatrist to 500,000 to one million population (in UK it is one to 25,000). In addition, there is discrimination, stigma, ignorance and lack of treatment facilities. All this adds up to a serious mental health crisis in Pakistan.

This crisis is already spiralling out of control and taking a heavy toll on our population. There has been an alarming rise in suicides over the last few years, from a few hundreds to thousands annually. We have more than three million drug addicts — the majority are young men — in the country, suicide bombings, increasing levels of violence and intolerance in society and aggressive behaviour that we come across in our daily lives. All these are indications that the mental health of our people is seriously compromised. Pakistanis are living with unprecedented levels of stress.

Research conducted at various centres in Pakistan shows that the number of patients with psychosomatic disorders has gone up exponentially over the last few years as has the consumption of tranquillisers which can easily be bought at any pharmacy.

What can we do about this state of affairs? We cannot remain silent observers as this terrible tragedy unfolds in front of us. For where they are problems, there are also solutions. However, to be effective these solutions have to be culturally relevant, cost effective, replicable and sustainable. Given that we have limited resources that are squandered by massive corruption, poor governance and mismanagement, this is no easy task.

Programmes must address core issues that underlie mental health. While we require more psychiatric facilities the focus should be on primary prevention through mental health promotion. We will never have enough resources to tackle the huge numbers of mental disorders in this country. Hence looking at ways to prevent mental disorders from developing and helping people enhance their mental health holds out the best promise. Initiating life skills programmes for young people in schools is an example of mental health promotion.

There also needs to be greater and stronger collaboration between voluntary and charitable organisations and academic centres as research is relevant to the problems of society. An example of this is an experiment that was conducted for managing mild to moderate depression in women in a low-income district of Karachi through psychological counselling. Other women from the same community were trained as counsellors. The results showed that this method was highly successful as well as cost effective. Based on the results, training workshops have been held for health professionals of various organisations.

Research and intervention strategies like these can address the real mental health issues of our society as these would be indigenously developed rather than being imported from the West. There is need for research on other psychiatric disorders as schizophrenia, drug addiction, dementia, suicide and childhood disorders. We need to come up with models of care and training that would directly address problems of mental health in the people of this country.

The challenge for tackling mental health problems is a formidable but not insurmountable one. What is required is political will, research evidence and good governance to establish and implement mental health programmes. Mental and public health professionals, non-governmental organisations and policymakers in government must work together to take up this challenge.

The writer is professor of psychiatry at the Aga Khan University, Karachi.

WHY do media organisations want to wallow in trust like hippos in mud? They want to roll in it until they’re covered from head to toe. When it dries up, thanks to dodgy editing or phoney phone competitions, the mud cracks and it’s a “crisis”.

Trust has become a key concern in our media-obsessed age. Journalist still cling to the notion they are purveyors of the “truth”, guardians of public standards, the fourth estate.

Journalists are storytellers. The best of these stories may be parables with implications beyond the mere facts of who, what, where and when. But they are stories nonetheless, real stories about real people, to use the TV slogan, and the media are losing their monopoly on telling them.

The elevated professional ideal of the media’s public role held up pretty well through most of the 20th century. Courts, councils and parliamentary proceedings were all reported, along with racing results and sex scandals.

The modern obsession with trust really started in the late 1950s, with the advertising showdown between newspapers and television across the US. As Americans abandoned evening papers for the TV news, the newspaper industry looked for ways to reassure advertisers about its relationship with readers. The networks met the challenge by making the same claim about viewers. The quality that both decided made the relationship special was trust – which would reflect well on the advertiser’s products or services.

But how would you put a number on something as ephemeral as trust? Enter the pollsters. Newspaper industry groups and TV research departments were competing with each other to commission polls to prove their medium was more trusted than the next. But polls reflect the poll makers. They ask particular questions to elicit particular answers. The polls showed, funnily enough, that people trust the media they use. In the 1960s, TV news grew in trust as more people tuned in. In the 2000s, Google has become the most trusted source of news, even though it gathers no news. And therein lies part of the problem. Asking people what or whom they trust doesn’t make the media trustworthy.

On the back of a lengthy stint anchoring America’s favourite newscast, Walter Cronkite became the most trusted man in America. Trust stuck to Cronkite even after he stood down from the role at the start of the 1980s. He was the benchmark against which presidents were judged. It took several years for public trust in Cronkite to wane. He lost it simply because he wasn’t sitting behind a desk every night.

As the critic Neil Postman recognised at the time, trust “does not refer to the past record of the teller for making statements that have survived the rigours of reality testing. It refers only to the impression of sincerity, authenticity, vulnerability or attractiveness.”

But by the 1990s, polling on trust had generated such a history and so much data that the sniping of critics like Postman could be ignored. Ironically, both critics of the media, and the media themselves, rushed to embrace it. Critics saw declining trust as the result of moral lapses by broadcasters or journalists. Corporations with good poll numbers wore high levels of trust as a badge of public probity.

Trust was particularly appealing as a benchmark for an organisation such as the BBC. In the 20th century the BBC had sold itself as authoritative, but authority was old-fashioned and hard to express in percentages when its budget came up for renegotiation.

So at the start of the 21st century the BBC too put its faith in trust, to the extent that at the beginning of this year the BBC’s director general, Mark Thompson, devoted a lengthy public lecture to just this topic, following last year’s dissertation on trust and the media by Tony Blair.

It’s time the public saw the obsession with trust for what it is – a desire by the media to have the pulpit to themselves. It’s not a malicious desire, but it lies behind most of what professional journalism wants to do – moralise, chastise, improve.

I believe the answer in part is in restoring access to the areas of public life that the “elevated” media were supposed to shine a light on. Make court transcripts available electronically. Make government and corporate data easy to search and free.

—The Guardian, London

The writer is the professor of journalism at City University, London.