| June 09, 2007 | Saturday | Jamadi-ul-Awwal 23, 1428 |
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Hear no evil, see no evil
THE recent gagging of the electronic media is a sure sign of the desperation that has gripped the ruling junta in Islamabad. But as Musharraf and his henchmen grapple with the increasingly lethal fallout from the action they initiated against the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, they discover that censorship is not the simple thing it used to be.
Now, thanks to the Internet and mobile phones, news and views are flashed across the country and around the world in seconds. Sitting in England, where I am currently, I have been able to watch, via the Internet, various interviews and discussions on private TV channels that have aroused official ire.
Members of the ruling Muslim League faction voiced their outrage over the whole unnecessary judicial fiasco, which they ascribed to the poor advice Musharraf accepted while filing the reference in the Supreme Court. Imran Khan appeared in one interview, and put forward his convincing case against Altaf Hussain and the MQM. Participants of a panel discussion fulminated against the army’s constant meddling in politics.
While I can see why the regime is so upset over media reports and comments about the current situation, they should realise that shooting the messenger will not kill the message. In fact, by suppressing coverage, they are encouraging the spread of rumour and speculation.
In the electronic media’s treatment of the ongoing crisis, TV anchors and producers were careful to include ministers and politicians to put forward the official position. There will be no such balance in the whispering campaign that will now be launched, more or less spontaneously.
Short of shutting down the Internet and the entire network of cell phones, it is difficult to see how the government can possibly prevent the public from knowing what is happening. Before these technologies became so pervasive, citizens could be kept in the dark.
Shortly before Bhutto’s judicial murder in 1979, I remember a friend surreptitiously giving me a copy of the late prime minister’s last testament called “If I am assassinated…” I secretly photocopied it and passed it around. Today, it would be scanned and sent off to thousands of email addresses around the world within seconds.
Even before this knee-jerk crackdown on private TV channels, I was getting scores of emails containing diatribes against the army, Musharraf, and the ruling establishment. Indeed, never have I received as much anti-government material on the Internet as over the last few weeks. The totally unnecessary and officially-inspired violence on May 12 in Karachi has served to galvanise the democratic movement in and out of Pakistan in an unprecedented manner. The other target in this cyber campaign is the MQM. One recurring image that has been landing in my email inbox with irritating frequency is a picture of Governor Ibad resting his head on Altaf Hussain’s shoulder. The MQM supremo is stroking the Sindh governor’s head in a paternal gesture, while the caption says it all: “Well done, boy!”
Despite the almost universal anger being directed towards the MQM, its leadership has responded in characteristic ostrich fashion. Its head firmly buried in the sand, it has blamed everybody, but not its own myopic and bloodthirsty reaction to Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry’s attempt to address the Karachi Bar Association on May 12. Like their senior partners in Islamabad, the MQM leadership is in a state of denial, blaming only the media for its current woes.
With the present paranoid mindset, journalists have been threatened, and some have been roughed up. In the recent past, the offices of Geo TV in Islamabad were vandalised by the police, and those of Aaj TV in Karachi came under heavy fire from MQM activists for several hours.Footage of those doing the firing clearly showed the party flag, as well as a car with green Sindh government number plates. Intriguingly, but not surprisingly, no action has been taken against any of the many gunmen active that day, despite hundreds of faces being captured on TV cameras.
Just to underline the futility of censorship, the Guardian carried a story from its Pakistan correspondent, Declan Walsh, on June 5: “President Pervez Musharraf has cracked down on Pakistan’s television networks in a move against growing calls for a return to democracy. Several stations were taken off the air at the weekend, and yesterday General Musharraf introduced emergency legislation providing stiff fines and the closure of channels deemed to have broken the law.” The story went on to explain the underlying causes of the government’s growing isolation and sense of desperation. No doubt countless other newspapers, TV channels and radio stations around the world carried similar reports, while commenting adversely on the crackdown.
So much for General Musharraf’s carefully tended image of a strong, progressive leader. If anything, Pakistan’s international standing today is as low as it has ever been. According to one survey, we are now the sixth most dangerous country in the world, and this ranking was achieved before the May 12 incidents. With us in this distinguished company are Somalia, Afghanistan and Sri Lanka.
There was a time, not that long ago, when the army’s traditional partners were the clergy, represented today by the MMA. But of late, this role has been usurped by the MQM. However, it needs to know that while this partnership might pay off in the short term, it can be corrosive over time.
Despite having created and promoted the MQM at its inception, the army has always been very suspicious of Altaf Hussain whose anti-Partition stance has made him anathema to many nationalists in and out of GHQ. So clearly, this marriage of convenience may suit Musharraf’s political needs now, but how long he can cohabit with Altaf Hussain is another question.
The MQM’s recent mindless violence has made it very difficult for self-respecting politicians to deal with it. How many of this rare breed are active is another question.
Pakistan’s many ethnic and religious fault-lines cannot be papered over by banning public discourse and discussion. In fact, by preventing open debate of sensitive issues, the government has shut an essential safety valve. Given the polarisation of Pakistani society, it made sense to provide a public forum for airing differences.
Musharraf has boasted around the world that his government “gave” Pakistan the freest media it has ever had. He should remember that a free media was never his to “give”; and it is certainly not his to take away.
