THE chief minister is not averse to making claims and these days he is genuinely proud and boasting about the deals his and his elder brother’s governments have struck with China to prop up the weak energy sector.

He may on other occasions be found making statements of his commitment to serving the people sincerely by flaunting this or that project for public good.

These images of him standing firm and undaunted by the challenge do get him positive vibes from the people. Even among his critics, Shahbaz Sharif is viewed as someone who is likely to err on the side of action rather than settle for presiding over a non-event.

But a young, patriotic man put in his country’s service where he is required to crack walnuts with a blow of his head in search of some world record? Clearly, the organisers of the Punjab Youth Festival have taken their campaign for national glory to a point where it hurts those with a weak constitution and leaves a few bruised.

‘Qaum ko mubarak ho’…the record now stands in the name of a Pakistani, who was last spotted rubbing his forehead in visible pain amid applause from the crowd around. Other feats are attempted and records broken, and the conductor of the show slips in details about the day-and-night work that has gone into making the event so successful.

On the day some 15 records were to be attempted. If the Punjab government wasn’t sure about a 100pc success rate, it wouldn’t have exposed its well-prepared champions to the scrutiny of the foreigners who it happily invites to map the sporting prowess of the youth here.

It is a responsible and sincere government. Where it isn’t sure, the government does resort to cancellation. It cancelled an event where 400,000 students were to be gathered to create the largest image of a national flag in history. Students — college and university types and not just the more easily pushed school-going minions — were persuaded and goaded and reportedly even threatened into being part of the grand moment in history.

The flagship exercise in national pride-building was called off at the eleventh hour, to the relief of hundreds of thousands. Among the relieved were many thousand policemen who were to guard the huge crowd.

Not all cancellations by the Punjab government are, however, to the relief of the police. As part of the same prolonged youth festival, Basant was planned this year, creating hopes about the revival of the kite-flying festival not only among the general enthusiasts but also among those who saw the developments from a business angle.

These signs of official acceptance of kite-flying encouraged the easily tempted revellers and their providers at places. The kite and string shops, out of business for many years, stocked up in anticipation. A few kites rose to the occasion and a few addas surfaced quickly where the old hands gone rusty because of lack of work were seen applying solutions to kite-strings to sharpen it for the impending return of the traditional sky wars.

Basant — even a limited version of it — was later cancelled and the quiet manner in which the government had chosen to retreat from its promise was in stark contrast to the raids police have since been making to impound kites and string and to arrest the illegal kite-flyers. That seems to be the law-enforcers’ favourite pastime these days, and undertaken with the full enthusiasm of a spoilsport.

Where there was expectancy of a spring filled with colour and festivity now fly intimidating banners in which the local policemen sternly warn the lawbreakers of action. People are being pulled up for anticipating after the government had appeared to be lumbering up towards allowing them some kite-flying fun.

The administration’s approach to deal with errant shopkeepers found with banned stuff used in kite-flying is reflective of the same heftiness that is on display in deciding how urgently and how frequently the country needs to get into the Guinness Book of World Records.

Presumably, the record-breaking spree is part of a two-pronged policy. The recent China visit, with its own unprecedented promise of megawatts, is the result of the pursuance of one part of the policy. But since the fruits of that excursion will take time reaching the public, a short-term strategy is in place to keep the people in good spirits by offering them an instant brush with success.

It seems that with time, there is a growing craving in the government itself to go on breaking more records, and then reset the records which were set by Pakistanis but then surpassed by others. Like the record of creating the largest image of a national flag which was taken away from Pakistan and has to be reestablished to restore our honour.

The enthusiasm shown by the Lahore administration to see the flag plan through matched the disciplined, choreographed images Zulfikar Ali Bhutto wished to create by using children at Islamabad schools after his visit to Korea or somewhere back in the mid-1970s.

You may find veterans of that experience around recalling how they ended up with an entry into the next class without examination — apart from the banana-apple-and-boiled egg daily diet they were provided by the state to keep them going through the physical exercises.

Those were children of nationalised schools. It is the same record playing again as today’s leaders, with their avowed anti-nationalisation position, seek to find glory in ceremony.

The writer is Dawn’s resident editor in Lahore.