THE kind of news our newsrooms are producing these days would give an old timer a heart attack. There’s plenty of freedom of expression in sight. Here is a specimen spread over just seven days.

On Dec 13, National Assembly Speaker Ayaz Sadiq expressed fear that the assembly might not complete its tenure. Sadiq elaborated: “What’s happening now has never been witnessed before.” He advised “everyone” to give “preference to national interests”. This was a rare occasion of a speaker ultimately speaking out, even though he soon saw merit in finding refuge in what Pakistanis thrive on: talking in riddles. The dull-headed amongst us are still wondering what, after his grand, hair-raising opening, he was aiming at. He quickly adjusted to say that what he feared could befall our beloved country could not be called martial law. But the taboo had been broken. Freedom of expression had been exercised.

The impression that we are breathing in a freer atmosphere where parties were ready to tolerate the ‘others’ was strengthened inside the National Assembly the next day. This reconfirmation came from a person known to break sound and geographical barriers. On Dec 14, Pakhtunkhwa Milli Awami Party chief Mahmood Khan Achakzai proposed the formation of a “judicial council-like body”, comprising judges, generals and diplomats, to decide Fata’s future setup.

Free speech is not a right being granted to everyone.

This was Achakzai’s answer to the group in parliament pressing for Fata’s inclusion purely in the name of patriotism. He called for abolishing the FCR and asked for Fata to be governed by a “governor or a council to be elected through adult franchise”. The bombshell came when he said the present parliament had no role in Fata’s affairs. “I am giving you a solution. Have fear of God. I will not abuse anyone. Please, do not abuse us.” This was a stance many amongst us would oppose, but a stance that needed to be heard before an earnest, lasting solution for the long-smouldering Fata could be reached.

The veteran, the perennially controversial Achakzai, used his right to speech even though he was taunted all the way by the PTI. “I am a Pakistani citizen. It is my democratic right to support or oppose something.”

Achakzai’s words had a liberating effect on the ears. Our tolerance levels were certainly rising. Even when the decision lay with the majority, the debate would have been incomplete without his voice. The next best possible scenario would be for policymakers to heed his line about how a change in the present setup in Fata could create ‘trouble’ for Pakistan.

The speaker and other National Assembly member having added their examples in how a ‘changed’ Pakistan is now ready to take up taboo subjects, next on the podium was a person said to be central to the assemblies’ existence. He follows the parliamentarians in this write-up here purely on the basis of the chronological order of events. There is no intent to establish anyone’s supremacy or superiority here.

Two days after Achakzai’s speech, Chief Justice Saqib Nisar “advised people not to doubt the integrity of the judiciary as it would never become ‘part of any plan’” — to restrict the life of the government or parliament. He was visibly annoyed by talk about the judiciary and said: “The one who could pressurise the judiciary hasn’t been born yet.” He said that people should be proud of the independence the judges are enjoying within the judiciary.

The most famous and reassuring part of his speech at the seminar in Lahore was in which he drew parallels between the judiciary and the wise old man in the village, the baba as this respected elderly figure is called. “This judiciary is your baba, do not doubt its integrity”. The baba had not and would not become part of any plan, he said, once again the one salient feature of his address being the exercise of a rare choice by an honourable judge to speak his heart out as opposed to the limitations of the mind.

That rare delivery from the chief judge was not all that was to be shared or be cheerful about in the week. Another chief was yet to use his freedom of expression to dispel certain doubts and suspicions.

On Dec 19, army chief Gen Qamar Bajwa told the Senate, in-camera, that the military had no role in destabilising the civilian government. This was the first time an army chief appeared before a Senate committee — as a sign of the changing times and expanding space for debate in the country.

It is a moot point, however, if the facility to express extends to all Pakistanis who want to contribute to this country’s development in their own small ways. The speaker, the other National Assembly member, the chief justice and, of course, the army chief all spoke in an ‘unusual’ way because they must have realised that they could no longer let it go without a stern comment.

All these gentlemen broke with etiquette, the army chief having to offer his answers in response to questions put by respected senators. But they said it with little danger that this would be held against them. This created a perception that things we were not supposed to say earlier are being allowed in this changing Pakistan.

Many an activist has paid a heavy price for this illusion. To speak is most certainly a freedom that is not being extended to everyone here. The impression gets stronger as a peace activist from Lahore is added to the long list of missing persons. Average Pakistanis would be better served with a new, clear pronouncement listing subjects that are out of bounds to them. Otherwise, they may be led astray by this new sense of liberty.

The writer is Dawn’s resident editor in Lahore.

Published in Dawn, December 22nd, 2017