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WELL, this is boring. ToR this, ToR that. Duelling press conferences and legalese designed to tear your hair out. Who the hell cares?
So, to rebel against the tedium and the week, let’s turn to some other stuff. And, for the sake of sanity, let’s start with lighter fare.
Where have all the loveable rogues gone? You’d think Pakistanis have just discovered corruption. And you’d think our leaders have just learned how to be corrupt.
At least if all the hand-wringing, tut-tutting and bellowing is to be believed.
But the thing that grates, that really grates, in this entire episode — Panamagate? Sharifville? EndofCorruption? — is just how rubbish the lot of them are.
Politics was, in addition to enriching yourself, supposed to be about fun. To look like you’re enjoying yourself and let the world you know you’re enjoying yourself.
Get out there; knock ’em dead.
Asif had it once upon a time. He not only looked like he was enjoying himself, but actually was. A polo ground in the PM’s backyard. A replica of a favourite watering hole in the Surrey basement.
But now — maybe he’s grown old. Or maybe he’s been battered by the years. Or maybe everyone else was horrified once they realised that the joke was on us because he was actually in charge.
Whatever it was, what Asif had once, he doesn’t have anymore.
So elsewhere we have to look. Nawaz? You almost feel sorry for him. He’s accumulated all that wealth. Raiwind is the stuff of fantasies. Seven generations hence can spend to their hearts’ content and it may not even make a dent in the fortune.
Imran? You know he’s having fun up there on those shipping containers because, gosh, he can’t seem to stay away.
And yet. And yet you can’t really imagine him enjoying it. Bentleys, Rolexes and fancy suits reek of the past, an inability to explore or evolve. And where’s all the ambition gone?
Once upon a time, Nawaz wanted to be amir-ul-momineen. Which may not have been so good for the rest of us, but it sure beats plain ol’ Prime Minister, Sir. This time round — is there any ambition beyond being inaugurator-in-chief of bits and bobs of highway?
And when he does deign to address us, from in front of a TV camera or behind a secure barrier, all we see are grimaces and all we hear are complaints. Wounded, upset, hurt, nobody-loves-me — it’s like Nawaz has forgotten that he’s a trillionaire three-term PM with a shot at a historic fourth.
Imran? You know he’s having fun up there on those shipping containers because, gosh, he can’t seem to stay away. But, if you don’t happen to hate Nawaz or loathe Zardari, Imran is less enticing than Bible class on a Saturday night.
Taut, querulous, angry — Imran is so determined to become PM and so resentful that he hasn’t already that he’s forgotten that he still has to be likeable beyond the base to get elected.
Raheel? Sure, his job doesn’t win him points for looking like he’s having fun. If anything, he racks up points for being the stern taskmaster disciplining errant schoolchildren, aka politicians.
But — there’s something missing. Kayani had his cigarettes, Musharraf his braggadocio. With Raheel you get the feeling he only managed to avoid institutional radicalisation because no one thought him interesting enough to bend either way.
Asif — lost his mojo. Nawaz — grim and soulless. Imran — fighting his mojo. Raheel — makes vanilla seem interesting. It wasn’t always like this. Where have all the loveable rogues gone?
Torture diaries: Because this is Pakistan, there’s always something nasty to talk about. What happened in Karachi? And why?
The first is easier to explain. Granted 90-day detention by a change of the law in 2013 — a change that was demanded by the Rangers, but more than happily effected by the N-League — a pattern quickly emerged.
Pick up the guy; haul him before a magistrate immediately; get 90-day custody — and then, well, you have two choices. Either take it slowly, or don’t.
Slowly was rejected, among other reasons, because of the way the human body works. If done methodically and by a professional, the tell-tale signs of torture are less severe three months later.
So, as soon as you have your guy, do what you need to — or want to — and then let the chap slowly recover in semi-discomfort for the best part of a couple months Of course, if you appreciate repeated games you know what happens next.
Perversity is often dangerously logical. After a while, word gets out — survive the first few days or whatever in custody and you’ll be fine. To which a counter has to be developed — increase the pain inflicted on those in custody so that you still get what you need.
Hence, errors and lethal miscalculations
Now to the more complicated question. What did they need from this particular chap? Here we descend into the murk. The less culpable explanations you can find elsewhere. The darker one is this — the plan for Karachi isn’t working.
That abomination of a no-name party cobbled together by the boys and fronted by the oleaginous ex-mayor isn’t getting the kind of traction that was hoped for. Worse, defections have slowed to a trickle and none so far have impressed.
In which case, why not give folk some food for thought and the process a nudge? The good may recoil. The realist may question. But here’s the rub, that theory — the idea above — is being peddled by the side trying to cling on in Islamabad.
As if civ-mil wasn’t complicated enough already. But enough of that, the quota for the nasty this week is over. Onwards, to arguing over ToRs.
The writer is a member of staff.
Twitter: @cyalm
Published in Dawn, May 8th, 2016
