Considering everything, a little over 8,000 are not too many candidates for 1,070 seats in the National and provincial legislatures in a country where politics is the favourite past time of resourceful individuals, vested interest groups and people wanting to move up the social ladder. A much larger number should not have surprised anyone, because redone constituencies and reserved seats have opened new vistas even for individuals who would normally never think of stepping into the political fray.
Feminist groups should be pleased as their presence would be significant in elected forums, but it is a question if segments striving for women’s rights have reason for breathing evenly and comfortably. Many candidates represent influential families and not political ideas or commitment. There are people who think that the principle behind some nominations is not far apart from what had guided a group of males in Abba Khel village to barter family females for escaping the deathtrap.
One forms this impression because the candidature of a number of women is linked with ineligibility of distinguished males of their families by the graduation restriction. These elements could not imagine that influence peddling would slip from their grasp. One need not name either these men or their spouses, sisters or daughters, but many females are undeniably there to represent and protect the interests of prominent men of their families, rather than to fight for the emancipation of members of their sex and be more than mere proxy brokers for power.
This is not to slight women aspirants to elected houses. The list of candidates also includes individuals who are genuine. But the fact that they are in essentially fake surroundings cannot be ignored. Indeed, there are women on the slates who have struggled for the establishment of a democratic society and women’s rights, but lists of prospective women members of elected houses make it abundantly clear that they are in a minority as candidates, and that this pattern is set to persist after Oct 10.
This is not a hopeless state, however. One should look at the positive possibilities. The women who reach elected houses would become assertive in time and realize the potential and responsibilities of their new position. Indeed, they could start dominating the scene and reduce exploitative males to a subservient and dependent role.
The picture thoroughbred candidates, both male and female, produce has many faded lines. The champions of democracy have not been able to fully comprehend the twist inherent for national affairs in the coming polls. Oct 10 could well prove to be Pakistan’s final break with the concept of democratic principles that served as the foundation of the struggle for a homeland. Whatever Mr Jinnah stood for as a leader seems headed for a push out of the window by the vastly-amended and substantially-distorted dispensation laid down for Pakistan’s future.
The poison injected into the body politics of the country, when Malik Ghulam Mohammad took over the reigns of government with help from Colonel (honorary) Iskandar Mirza and (at that stage) General Ayub Khan, appears to have seeped into the national bloodstream and become a component of Pakistan’s political metabolism.
Politicians in the arena now, though for no fault of theirs, are almost entirely the product of years of dictatorial military regimes. Their desire for a democratic order may not be distrusted. However, they have been exposed mainly to a specific — at that, twisted — version of the system. Its true scope for the society eludes them due to this backdrop. Even if some of them a are aware of the full, disastrous range of implications, their actions and responses are determined by the need for survival. As survival has been reduced largely to the individual candidate’s level, instead of being a collective concern, disarray has descended on our political landscape.
The two major nationwide political groups, Pakistan People’s Party and Pakistan Muslim League (N), have their leaders living abroad. This is essentially their own decision, though forced on them, as the deck is widely seen as marked. They can return to be jailed or put on the first return flight. They can lead from prison; a thwarted attempt to return would make an impact. In all likelihood, such acts would enhance prospects of their parties, but the leaders presumably feel that the time for their return has not arrived.
Meanwhile, the ground conditions are changing rapidly. Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif have declared the joining of their forces, but the plan has stayed short of becoming a concrete and productive move. Adjustment with rivals was seen by many candidates from the viewpoint of personal prospects. Candidates realize that General Musharraf intends to stay as President and COAS. A campaign to build such massive and effective public opinion that forces his ouster is difficult to envisage without the physical presence of the two leaders, or at least one of them. And even then, the attempt could prove abortive.
It is also acknowledged that leadership is not with General Musharraf; it is with the army chief. Which means that the maximum to be achieved — and this is highly unlikely — is a change of face at the top. People can hardly be motivated to stick out their necks for something that may not even be cosmetic. That has made many candidates accept the naked truth of prevailing conditions. Plans for seat adjustment between the two parties have consequently gone largely awry.
The best that the leaders can do is urge party men to follow their decisions. Their power to influence all the candidates of their party and make them accept their word as law may have been somewhat scuttled by their physical absence. Possibly, the leaders are aware of this development and are not pressing their point too hard. As a result, one sees some important PPP and PML (N) leaders pitched against each other in election contests and dividing what could have been a formidable force.
As I was writing this piece, I received a call from a friend who was once a colleague, Sayed Siraj-us-Salkin; he now lives in Sweden. The Swedes had their elections a day earlier. I must write in detail about him some day because he was a remarkably competent, indeed dynamic television newsman. He left Pakistan because his brand of forthrightness was not acceptable here, and proved his mettle first for Tanzanian and then for Swedish television.
He had been up all night watching the results. He followed the trail although, he said, the outcome was on the cards much before the first vote was cast. Surveys and opinion polls are regularly carried out in Sweden and results rarely show a change of more than one to three per cent from pre-poll assessments. Then he laughed and said that it is the same in Pakistan, though for entirely different reasons.
People who are away have not severed links with the homeland. However, the love for Pakistan is turning into dismay in many expatriates due to conditions in their former country. Salkin left Pakistan in 1972, because he was disillusioned. Ranks of such Pakistanis have been swelling since then.