Frustrating forms, disbelieving bureaucracy: SOCIAL THEMES

A SENIOR civil servant, foreign-educated and articulate commented on the Permanent Residence Certificate (PRC) form and described it as a “farce”. Keep in mind that it was introduced in 1971, 30 years ago.

So why isn’t it scrapped now? The civil servant explained like a sound professional that after the government introduces a procedure, then it is virtually impossible to change it. Government servants lack ingenuity and courage and it is always convenient to adhere to the status quo.

This truly gives some insight into the thought processes of officialdom. And at the right time. For currently in circulation are accounts of indignation, frustration and suffering of students and their families as they go about trying to get the PRC. This is admission time to various educational institutions such as medical colleges, universities, Institute of Business Administration and other professional institutions.

In circulation is also a questioning of the need to have a PRC if you already have a domicile from Karachi. Or what is the need for both of them if you already have the National Identity Card (the new CNIC being still in the pipeline and Nadra struggling to meet the deadline).

There are many other questions that highlight the suffering of students in Karachi on this count. Why does the PRC exist only in Sindh? Because of its urban and rural divide.

Innocent idealistic students wonder when this divide will end, while others wonder what caused it in the first place.

Generally speaking, most government forms are dreadful in concept and a source of harassment and humiliation, (read also corruption) in effect. Like many citizens, I, too, have a fear of filling out and submitting forms, the endless pursuit of procedures and processes and the collection of the end product, whatever it may be.

Why are government forms and processes not user-friendly? Keep wondering but there will be no answers, really. Whether it is the birth certificate or the PRC, NIC, NTN or even the TV licence — if the case is a trifle complicated, the citizen is assured of being subjected to such lengthy procedures and repeated visits that he would either give up the pursuit or resort to “sifarish” or bribe. Little wonder then that there are many of us who have never had a domicile made or a PRC, and have managed to live “happily” with the NIC. Now there has come the need to have a computerized ID card made and this form and its frustrations is an oft-repeated story and a well-known one by now.

A closer look at the PRC form wouldn’t be out of place here. One reading of it and it makes you feel you have perhaps committed a crime or something just as grave and wrong. The form is divided into four sections. It was issued in 1971 under the Sindh Permanent Residence Certificate rules, and it says that “nothing in this rule shall apply to a person repatriated from Bangladesh on the authority of the Government of Pakistan seeking admission to an educational institution in Karachi, or employment to any government service or post from the urban area of Karachi within a period of not exceeding three years from the date of repatriation”.

There is a lot in the rules and the form itself that would intimidate the applicant, and the young students applying for admission are of an age that would make them wonder why all this information is being sought such as father’s occupation, nationality, details of immovable property in Sindh owned by father and the applicant, mother’s professional details if she is employed by the Sindh government, so on and so forth. The form for a PRC also wants to know whether the applicant is domiciled in Sindh (harassed citizens ask why both are needed), and then there are other questions about previous domiciles.

Now, considering that the PRC is restricted to Sindh alone, there are six reasons why a person can claim a certificate. One reason is shocking and it makes one wonder what young students would think of this society. Here it is: “the applicant claims a certificate of permanent residence because he was born in Sindh of illegitimate birth and his mother, at the time of birth, was domiciled in Sindh”. And there is a note to this clause which says that “in the case of a person of illegitimate birth, the information required to be given about the father shall be given about his mother”. One is totally unable to understand this. If data on it is available, it would help sociologists to understand this province better!

And in the domicile certificate there is a “questionnaire” which begins with a residence certificate from a “grade 17 or above government officer/senator/ MNA/MPA/member of municipal committee or district council of the district”. What should the common man do if he doesn’t know any grade 17-plus officer personally — keep in mind that very often in this country there is no functional senate or parliament. Also remember that it can be an impossible task to reach a government functionary. All this talk of good governance and now there is a national reconstruction bureau, too. How long will it take to change formats and attitude is anybody’s guess. In whose lifetime, asks a citizen now in his middle age.

For those below 21 years of age and seeking a domicile for admission on merit to an educational institution, it is necessary to attach the father’s domicile. What if the father had no domicile and thought that having a national identity card was enough, was a tax payer with an NTN and also had a passport in the bargain. Why are we hell-bent on multiplying paperwork that suffocates the citizen, in an age where simplicity is a basic requirement. Look at the way some of the foreign companies have simplified forms for credit cards and mobile phones, and see how quickly they go about it.

By the way, in the case of the domicile certificate there are 16 exhausting questions, in which there is much information sought about the applicant’s past, specially if you are a “migrant from former East Pakistan” or if you migrated to Pakistan before April 14, 1951! If the answer is yes, then there is a long, time-consuming procedure involved and if the answer is no, then there is a Citizenship Certificate or Naturalization Certificate required.”

It is sad and baffling that there is so much evidence required by a disbelieving, bossy bureaucracy and its network from a citizenry that is both helpless and hapless.

Shouldn’t we hold our Afghan card awhile?: COMMENT

PAKISTAN’S still somewhat ambivalent support for the return and ‘restoration’ of ex-King Zahir Shah as the supreme leader of Afghanistan — less his throne and crown — has elicited a most ungracious and thankless reaction from his family based in Rome. A senior aide and son-in-law of the former monarch ‘warned’ Pakistan against trying to play the ‘kingmaker’s role’ in Afghanistan (Dawn, Oct 10).

‘Nobody has the right to interfere in our Afghan policy.’ It is the ‘job’ of the Afghan people and ‘only the Afghan people’ to ‘determine’ the future government of Afghanistan. ‘Pushtuns, Tajiks, Uzbeks, Turkmus, Hazaras, Nooristanis and others ‘constitute’ the Afghan people’, he said. So this is how the king’s men pay Pakistan back in their own coin — (the worthless Afghani) its gratuitous support to the fugitive king as the last hope for whatever is left of Afghanistan as an organic whole — as a country and a nation. What then must we do to salvage the oneness of Afghanistan without savaging our own territorial integrity and national interest?

President Musharraf has, time and again, warned against the dangers and non-viability of an ‘imposed set-up’ in Afghanistan. He views such a dispensation as ‘unworkable’ and one that could not last. It is to be clearly understood that outside imposition would include and involve Pakistan as much as another power. In their prevailing overwrought mood the Taliban leadership could hardly be expected to treat Pakistan more or less, if, not as much of a foreign government as any other. Pakistan would, therefore, be well advised to discreetly distance itself from the Taliban government — at least for the time being.

If the past nearly two decades — 1979 todate — be any guide, Afghanistan has cost Pakistan more than it has profited or helped it. Since our very emergence, our closest Islamic neighbour has been one of our major security concerns, next only to our surgical twin India. That, however, is history with little relevance for a short comment reflecting on the need of the hour.

Our concern with shape of things to come in Afghanistan, mainly the demographic pattern of its government and the nature of its relationship with Pakistan, is absolutely natural. That such a government, if and when it is formed, would be ‘broad-based,’ moderate and stable would not only be to the unquestioned advantage of Afghanistan itself, but also to the great relief of its close neighbour — specially Pakistan.

For Pakistan has not only been just a neighbour like Iran, China and the trans-Oxus republics, but also its one and the only active partner in adversity through the decade-long Soviet invasion and occupation and, thereafter, until now. Pakistan shared with Afghanistan the costs of its horrific civil war to incur the odium of a proto-terrorist state. It can ill-afford to allow history to repeat itself at the cost of its internal security — even perhaps its very existence as a civilized country in tune with times.

President Gen Musharraf’s one constant concern and call remains for the establishment of an ethnically-balanced, popular and Pakistan-friendly government in Kabul. This is how it must be; for anything else would inevitably suck Pakistan once again into the Afghan imbroglio even against the best of our effort and will.

Pakistan-Afghan long, porous border, shared ethnic stocks and religious bonds combine to form not only a geopolitical conundrum but also an all-pervasive predicament. To handle this effectively a judicious mix of a carefully measured aloofness and a thoughtfully calibrated concern in our dealings with the post- Taliban Afghanistan would be essential.

For now, regardless of our deep concern with any future set- up in Kabul, might it not be wiser to desist from talking about the kind of set-up we would like to (and should) have in Kabul? Wouldn’t that really amount to perceived interference in the internal affairs of Afghanistan? None would be better-placed than Pakistan to realize the utter futility of such a manoeuvre and the risk and the cost integral to it. The Peshawar agreement of April 1992 and the Islamabad Declaration of March 1993 should serve as the two most agonizing examples of how an imposed order — even one enjoying the express consensus of the Afghan group involved — foundered on the bedrock of the congenital Afghan obduracy. Prof Sibghatullah Mujaddidi of the Jabbha-i-Milli-Afghanistan and Burhanuddin Rabbani of Jamiat-i-Islami were elected to serve as the heads of the interim government — initially for six and nine months (may be a year) each respectively. Mujaddidi quit on completion of his six-month tenure, but Rabbani hanged on, drawing his legitimacy from what were almost universally recognized to be rigged election and in the face of all the advice and pressure from Islamabad to quit. A recognized friend and a protege of Pakistan, Rabbani turned coat immediately after his ouster in the aftermath of the occupation of Kabul by the Taliban in 1996. Even since then Rabbani acts as sworn enemy of Pakistan even more than the compulsively opportunistic and wholly unpredictable. Gulbadin Hekmatyar, once the most favoured single individual among the Mujahideen group, is now an anti-Pakistan fugitive and a renegade.

Hekmatyar is reported to have joined the ranks of the Northern Alliance with his own party (Hizbi Islami) dissident and defector — Maulana Younous Khalis and Abdul Rasul Sayyaf who once hated Hekmatyar’s guts. As for the prospect of the Northern Alliance forming a coalition in Kabul it cannot be discounted. In effect, however, it would be practically impossible for the Alliance ever to form a stable government — even with the help of some of the fence- sitting Pushtuns — always available for a price. It would be one thing to advance upon Kabul and even seize it under the cover of the Anglo-American air-blitz and creeping round operation, but quite another for the Northern Alliance to form a stable government to stay.

The first few casualties: LAHORE DIARY

THE allied forces, led as usual by the United States, dropped the first bombs and fired the first missiles of their latest high-tech war last Sunday. There have been many more strikes since, including day-time attacks avoided in the beginning, and preparations are said to be on the way for a ground attack. The war has variously been described as civilization’s crusade against terrorism, a wholly avoidable folly and the latest Zionist mischief against the goyim. The world, it has been said, won’t be the same again. The more the world changes, it has also been said, the more it remains the same.

Wars, even high-tech one-sided wars, are frustratingly unpredictable. Few things happen as planned and only a fraction of objectives can ever be achieved. There are always more casualties than one had counted on and a colossal collateral damage, most of it suffered by innocent civilians. To top it all, some of the scoundrels one had targeted, survive after all — even prosper — and new ones emerge.

Initial reports listed hundreds of Afghan civilians, including some of Mullah Omar’s relatives, a United Nations building and UN workers, Pakistan government’s goodwill in Kabul, credibility of the Organization of Islamic Conference and military careers of Lt-Gen(s) Ahmad and Usmani of the Pakistan Army among the casualties. The survivors included Osama bin Laden, Mullah Omar, possibly the Taliban rule over Afghanistan and definitely, terrorism.

Truth, cynics said, was the first casualty of a modern war. While it may nowadays be counted among missing in action, trust in our usual sources of information, seems to have been the first confirmed loss. Scepticism is finally raising its head in our traditionally credulous society.

Few people find the Foreign Office spokesman convincing or the briefing informative. His inadequate brief — he was unable to say whether the US troops had been issued visas — has left him open to jeers from irreverent reporters.

For all his media savvy, even the president has lost some of his faithful — the hopeless flattery of some members of the Islamabad press corps notwithstanding.

Most people now realize that pragmatism requires all heads of government to say what might help the situation rather than always telling the whole truth. Statements by their own government, which are at variance with what others are saying, therefore, tend to make them nervous.

Announcing the commencement of the campaign, President Bush and Prime Minister Blair had warned their compatriots and supporters to be prepared for a long war. Speaking for their respective governments they had said they were determined to fight as long as it took to achieve the objectives.

President Musharraf, admittedly a reluctant ally, however, came out with a great deal more optimistic reading of the situation. Speaking possibly out of a need to reassure a citizenry that found the war next door too close for comfort, he promised not only a quick victory for the good guys but also re-building and rehabilitation, a more broad-based and representative government, even lasting peace and prosperity ever after.

The sceptics might after all be forgivable.

There are equally valid reasons for not trusting the media. From silence on military affairs now practised only by some developing nations, the standard war strategy — particularly for righteous United Nations wars — has changed to saturation propaganda. The Gulf War started a trend that has stayed with us. The realization that the media blitz is an integral part of a war effort, keeps perennially prompting the inevitable question: Am I so naive as to believe everything they tell me?

It is probably a sign of the times that not only was the story disbelieved — almost all accounts of death in state custody are — but there was also an instant alternate version, accusing the administration of having desired the extra-judicial killings to distract attention from the protests against attacks on Afghanistan and the government’s support for it.

As if out of deference to the universal expectation, the official account admitted an attempt at cover-up, attributed albeit to an individual.

At least one Urdu newspaper seemed to be at great pains to make the suicide story sound plausible. The odds were clearly against it. Had the two wished a death by hanging, they needed only to withdraw their appeals against conviction. There were also signs of torture and Javed was learnt to have written to the authorities at least thrice to report threats to his life. He had also exhibited — even during his trial — an extraordinary zest for life and its pleasures.

Javed had attracted international attention with his shocking claims of having killed 100 boys. He obviously relished his hour in the limelight and had sought to drag it out. Towards the end, he had claimed that this had been his only crime. The claim, many including his lawyer believe, has not been adequately disproved.

Javed was one of the most hated people alive, particularly after his surrender and his ‘confession’ before a magistrate. It may be argued, however, that this was less because most people found that his guilt had been established beyond reasonable doubt and more because he held a mirror of sorts to society. Had he not shown that the grieving parents and guardians had been criminally negligent of the children and the relatives and neighbours making sympathetic noises callous? That society was a jungle and there was no shelter for lost boys? That nobody was even keeping a count? That the state could not care less? He had practically accused all those speaking in the name of his victims of having, in fact, been his accomplices and dared them to prosecute him.

In the heart of his heart, everybody linked to the case knew, everybody was on trial with him. Everybody hated him for having been so implicated and with bated breath waited for the outcome.

His retraction implied an even greater insult. In denying his guilt, he deprived them of the scapegoat his ‘confession’ had promised. This betrayal of his ‘accomplices’ made them cry for his blood.

The 100-murder case, above all, was a comprehensive impeachment of our criminal justice system. Javed made it painfully plain that society and the state could neither protect those living on the fringes of society — particularly children, nor punish the guilty. The police were obviously unable to investigate a felony, to track down and arrest the most wanted suspect even when they had all the information on him one could ask for and, finally, to make a worthwhile case for prosecution, a detailed confession notwithstanding. While he could not have counted on it, the case also showed, sadly, that even some of the presiding judges were not suited to their job by training or temperament.

Subsequent newspaper reports have shown that there has been no substantial improvement on any count since Javed’s disturbing disclosures. There seemed to be some concern immediately after his disclosures but it did not last. The attitudes, practices and procedures remain largely what they were.

Had the state and society been willing to reform themselves, Javed’s could have been a great legacy. Tragic as the circumstances were, he has carved his niche in eternity. Not many people would envy him, but judging from the little we know about him, Javed would not have minded that. — ONLOOKER