The chickens come home to roost
By Hajrah Mumtaz
Fostering a civilised society that is tolerant and open to self-examination is no easy task. As Mr Musharraf found to his consternation, ‘enlightened moderation’ cannot be easily achieved – it’s not a matter of simply telling a people that from now on, this is how they must be.
In this approach, not least of the problems is the difficulty in defining just what ‘the light’ refers to, and which side of the centrist mark it falls upon. After all, everyone from our truck-driver turned terrorist friend in Swat, to our cab-driver turned Corleone pal in Karachi, down to the mullahs turned militants in places such as Lal Masjid, claim to have seen the light. In their own minds, no doubt, they are in fact practising enlightened moderation: after all, they haven’t wiped out all oppositional viewpoints entirely.
The troubles being experienced in Pakistan today, from militancy to extremism to terrorism and the general rigidity of outlook, have been decades in the making. Most of us agree on that. It follows, therefore, that it will take at least as much time – if not longer – to reverse the tide. So no matter how many times the president or the prime minister or sundry ambassadors of goodwill reiterate that Pakistan is a peaceful country beset by issues of terrorism and militancy through no fault of its own, it will make little difference. The world sees the hard news coming out of the country and plays the role of judge and jury: it goes without saying that as a whole, this is a country intolerant of even the merest hint of the plurality of views.
Most of us also agree, meanwhile, that the state – as represented over the years by various governments – has been complicit in reducing the country to this state of affairs. In this regard, the Zia era has perhaps the bloodiest hands: those were the years when Pakistan, aided to no little extent by western funding, managed to arm an entire generation with not only guns but far worse, the ideological certainty of being warriors of the faith, tireless defenders against the ungodly and the evil. Of course in those days, the ungodly were the Soviets. The way these things work, however, it is little surprise that the jihadi definition of ‘the enemy’ expanded over subsequent years and led it to try to bite the very hand that had once fed it.
Furthermore, while the seeds of today’s state of affairs may mainly have been sown during the Zia years, subsequent governments cannot be absolved of all guilt either. As much ill can be achieved by those who either choose to do nothing, or take half-hearted, ineffectual steps. The shadowy ‘agencies’ that are today being accused of running a virtual supra-governmental state have been around for decades, and no doubt proved very useful to the governments that have been in place over the past two decades.
But there is another, far less well-understood way in which the state has over the years been complicit in reducing Pakistan to its current state of intolerance and extremism: the manner in which the arts, particularly theatre and film, have systematically been bowdlerised and stripped of all contextual legitimacy.
It is undeniable that these fields have, for at least thirty-odd years now, been the targets of a sustained campaign aimed to obliterate them entirely, whether with the tacit consent of the state or through its active participation. Censorship, the lack of state support, bans and the slandering of these fields have had their effect. Today, the commercial stage has, it is claimed, little artistic merit to recommend itself while film in Pakistan is epitomised by either Maula Jutt or Musarrat Shaheen. And this may indeed be true, for a given value of ‘artistic merit’.
What do theatre and extremism have to do with each other, you wonder? To put it simply, it is through the arts that a nation or a people explore issues of identity, and carry out exercises in self-examination and critique. And what are terrorism, militancy, religious or ideological extremism if not at root questions of identity? Who are we? What do we believe? What are the merits or implications of that belief? In 1947, Pakistan was created, so they claimed, ‘by the Muslims, for the Muslims.’ By 2007, the mosque was amongst the most heavily-guarded and most targeted institution in the country, and the place which gave birth to the bulk of the anarchy. What does that then say about the country and its citizens?
These are not questions to be debated through talk shows and expert opinion-mongers. The only place where they can play themselves out, and therefore initiate dialogue, debate and foster change, is on the artist’s canvas, the dramatist’s stage, the screen-writer’s plot. For it is there that reality mixes with imagination, the dream-world with the nightmarish, to first explore, then hold a mirror up to, and eventually engender a more nuanced understanding of one’s place within the given context.
For this reason, I cannot but conclude that the state is complicit – perhaps not actively, but certainly tacitly – in acts of violence such as the bombs targeting two theatres in Lahore on Friday, and the recent attacks on the RPTW’s World Performing Arts Festival. It is merely an extension of the mindset that led to an attempted ban of dance on the commercial stage. It is merely the chickens coming home to roost.
Pakistan ignores or targets the performing arts at its peril. Their importance is no new concept. There is the example of the approach taken by our neighbour to the west, Iran, which is equally hot on questions of religion and propriety. Before the revolution, the ulema either rejected or ignored the cinema, apart from applying to the (then) new medium rules of fiqh and haram/halal. But the post-revolution Islamists recognised the importance of the medium and faced with the two options of either forbidding it (as the Taliban did 15 years later) or Islamising it, they chose the latter. Ayatollah Khomeini is reported to have said, “Cinema is one of the manifestations of culture and it must be put to the service of man and his education.” Resultantly, the Farabi Foundation dealing with film was created in 1983 while the Mostazafan Foundation and the Jehad (later Ministry) of Reconstruction had important roles in film production and distribution and in the use of the media generally. By 1984, film production was being encouraged once more. And subsequently, individuals such as Mohamed Khatemi, who began as Minister of Culture and Islamic Guidance, and other Muslim intellectuals, laid the foundation for an independent press and a new cinema.
While I certainly cannot support the idea of ‘Islamising’ the performing arts in Pakistan, the point to be noted is that because Iran owned and promoted the arts, it produced eventually top-quality writers and directors that have opened up a debate on the Iranian identity, most importantly in Iranian society itself.
It would do Pakistan no harm to take a leaf out of its neighbour’s book. Merely telling people to practise ‘enlightened moderation’ is not going to work, for we are barely moderately enlightened yet.
hmumtaz@dawn.com


Govt quarters — beautiful Islamabad’s ugly face
By Mubarak Zeb Khan
YEARS of gross neglect and lack of maintenance have turned government servants’ quarters in various sectors of Islamabad into an eyesore of the federal capital on whose beautification the Capital Development Authority (CDA) is spending its billions.
These residential areas have never presented such an untidy look as they do today, thanks to poor response of the civic body to the physical deterioration of the quarters despite allocations of millions of rupees under the head of maintenance account.Visitors to Islamabad can easily identify where the poor and the rich live in the federal capital. It gives a clear picture of the class-based divide of the city into rich and poor neighbourhoods.
Overflowing gutters, littering, dark streets and shabby brick structures mark those sectors where majority of the poor live while green parks, glittering streets and elegant exteriors stand out in the posh areas.
Those who make policies hail from the posh areas and want this condition to remain as it is. The baboos (clerks) have no voice and no say in the matter. Since they have no other shelter, they must accept their lot.
Most of these quarters were built in the Sixties to accommodate the army of low-grade employees who had to shift to Islamabad from Karachi, the city Mohammad Ali Jinnah had chosen as Pakistan’s capital.
The walls and rooftops of many residential quarters turn green in the rainy season with grass and small plants taking root in the cracks of the structure. As a result, the cracks keep widening every season unattended by the maintenance battalions of the CDA and PWD (Public Works Department). Seepage is a major problem in rainy season as water does not drain out from outlets blocked by overgrowth. Putting new cement roofs and renovation involving plastering of walls is the only solution but since all the money goes into maintaining the posh sectors, nothing is left for the residential quarters of the staff. Same is the case with doors and windows. There is no money to fix them. Residents paste layers of newspapers and plastic sheets on the broken doors and windows to save themselves from the cold wind.
The quarters have not been whitewashed for more than a decade, which adds to the untidy look of the areas adding to the shabby look of a city that once prided itself as Islamabad the beautiful.
Interestingly, the CDA inquiry offices that are supposed to attend to problems like these have become gossip centres where the staff daily gathers to discuss politics over tea. Complaints are recorded in a register, which is where the matter ends.
You have to be well connected in CDA if your complaint is to be attended. There is no problem then whether of funds, materials or staff.
It is no secret that dozens of applications of this nature were posted on the website of the inquiry office, which remain unattended despite repeated visits of complainants.CDA should carry out a survey of these quarters and attend to the deteriorating structures in the first instance. This action will not only reduce the financial cost of maintenance as it would be carried out at one time by giving contract to one party but it would also create a good image of the civic body among the residents of these quarters.
Moreover, the government’s indecision in the matter of granting ownership rights to residents is also in the way of repair works as allottees live in the dream world of becoming millionaires overnight by building plazas on the prime land while CDA has its own plans once the slums disappear on their own through natural decay.
The lifespan of these quarters has probably already expired and it is quite dangerous to be living there. The CDA should come up with a blue print to replace these quarters in phases with good-looking modern apartments suitable to the needs of a modern city.
khanmubarak@yahoo.com


