Two sides of a coin
There is much debate on whether or not “obscenity” is being aired on Pakistan’s private television channels. In terms of news reporting, too, some channels are accused of having “gone too far.” Two major broadcasters were on Friday forced by the government to cease broadcast.
Underpinning the argument is the question of whether such programming ought to be “allowed”, which then begs the question of who should do the allowing. Some believe that the state should have the authority to pull the plug on ‘unacceptable’ programming. This presupposes not only a consensus on exactly what is objectionable, but also that a very clear line distinguishes that from the acceptable.
Others, however, argue that the channels need to develop their own codes of conduct – some will naturally be more liberal/vocal than others –and the final control ought to lie with the viewer. This means that every viewer has the right to not watch the programme/channel that his personal values deem objectionable.
The former course of action, that of the state playing Big Brother, is dangerous because such authoritarianism can rapidly spin out of control. Since there is no consensus – in fact, there cannot possibly be total societal agreement on such issues – on exactly where the line lies between the objectionable and acceptable, it always comes down to the persons making the judgement-call.
Our newspapers are full of illustrations of the fact that what is obscenity to one man is a right to another: thousands of Pakistanis believe that allowing their wives to vote is objectionable; thousands also believe that a woman’s right to feel the sun on her face is a violation of the normal codes of decency; a conservative government in the NWFP felt that cinema halls undermine societal values while certain ‘miscreants’ are convinced that the act of listening to music constitutes a sin punishable by bomb blast.
Giving the state the authority to shut down an avenue of expression – in this instance, television programming or channels – is a dangerous precedent because governments change, as does their nature. Today, beards may wag in approval if, for example, the government bars ‘obscenities’ such as fashion shows. But that gives the next government, or any one down the line, the potential authority to bar all unveiled women – or even women altogether – from television if that government’s ideological nature so dictates. To flip the thought around, what if some future government that wanted to drag this country, kicking and screaming, into entirely another direction, used the precedent to bar religious programming or to bar veils on television.
The point is that the freedom of expression works for all sides, as does the right to choose: where there is FTV and MTV, there is also QTV and Peace TV. All have an equal right to exist and all viewers have the right to choose.
The same case can be made for news channels. Ten days ago, the government decided that all the independent news channels were objectionable. Now, all but Geo and ARY have been declared kosher. With this precedent set, what is to prevent another head of state – who acts with the authority of the state – from arbitrarily deciding tomorrow or ten years from now that X sentence on Y channel was totally beyond the pale and that constitutes reason enough to pull the plug?
Today, channels are being targeted for stated reasons of poor journalism and bringing into disrepute certain institutions that I must, as the law now stands, refer to only as the Unmentionables. A number of people appear to agree with the government’s action: certainly, there were times when it appeared that invisible lines were crossed and barriers of good taste breached. However, what if at some point in the future, “poor journalism” is redefined as reporting on corrupt politicians or armed conflict within the country? The decision then, as now, will be made by a mere handful of people who have the might of the state and precedent on their side.
This does not mean that the media industry should consider itself above the law. Codes of conduct and regulations are necessary — up to a point and implemented through the courts. The purpose of law is to create a system of checks and balance, where legitimate action can be taken against any party that breaches a law that is reasonable, justifiable and was framed after due debate. The law must not be based on the whims and likings of whoever happens to be in charge.
However, the current status of the law and its representatives in Pakistan is clear for all to see. Arguing for it to be applied to the media in sprit and theory is doubtless an exercise in frustrating futility. —hmumtaz@dawn.com
Islamabad’s Generation Next robbed of innocence, right to normal life
AN eerie quiet hangs over Islamabad. The winter makes it slightly more disconcerting but residents of the capital have endured the cold blooded nature of power all year through for them to conclude that the weather had any decisive role in it.
The fact is the seat of the federation hasn’t seen a more tumultuous year since it moved from Karachi more than four decades ago.
As a parent the continuing strife is deeply worrying. I feel compelled to relate a family experience to drive home the point.
Last July, I was shocked when my three-year-old daughter “broke” the news to me about the Lal Masjid operation. Of course, I was already aware of the development but before one could lay a finger on how she had been able to comprehend what she clearly stated, she went on to say that there had been firing and bloodshed.
Obviously, this led to an inquiry about how she was able to get the drift of what was happening. She responded that she had watched it on television.
It isn’t as if mine is a television-obsessed child, but in this day and age, it is well nigh impossible to control what your children can and will watch — especially when the need to keep ourselves abreast of the developments on live television is acute.
My first reaction was one of deep concern about how a three- year-old had been able to make out a development as gruesome as the military operation in Lal Masjid.
This was followed by more profound anger at why was all this (the Lal Masjid episode) happening as it had clearly impacted the “normal” growth of a child still deserving of life’s innocence and gifts better than the harsh realities of a dirty world.
It is obviously down to what she observes but that’s beside the point. As a parent, you worry that your child is not growing in an environment that is first and foremost safe and then enabling for developing true potential.
Until the Ides of March struck this year when the attempted dismissal of Chief Justice Iftikhar Muhammad Chaudhry provoked violent reaction, Islamabad was coveted as the city with some of the best schools in the country and where, children could go to with a sense of direction and purpose in the most comfortable environment.
Unlike the rest of the country, the students here also did not have to bother about their academic calendar suffering the consequences of political street theatre. Well, if the theatre had been worth the art that educates the mind it would have made some sense. But even on that score, the capital has had poor luck.
Much has been said and written about that fateful decision of March 9, but in one of its immediate aftermath, students in Islamabad suffered a derailment of their examination. In no other country, of any recognition, is such farce evident — to say nothing of how such events impact a growing generation.
Removed from the judicial crisis was the drama in real life played out in and around Lal Masjid in G-6 sector last July.
Even before the military operation resulted in bloodshed that has no precedence in the country’s chequered history, the residents of the area were held hostage to a siege that lasted days.
Curfew followed, another first in Islamabad, effectively cutting off supplies to hapless inhabitants. This was compounded by virtual shutdown of business in the entire area, which was barricaded and resembled a war zone.
So devastating was the effect of unabated firing by troops and militants in the ‘war zone’ that the inhabitants of the area appeared to be a living nightmare. Children, in particular, were left traumatised by this cavalier action day and night. It is unlikely they will ever get the answers to why they had to go through that ordeal — right in the heart of the capital.
Whatever sanity there was left in the capital was taken care of by subsequent suicide attacks in close by Aabpara Market and another one in F-8 sector.
The residents of Islamabad are not out of the woods as yet and the imposition of emergency on November 3 has added a new chapter of woes for them.
They have endured an incredible fortnight without access to information that a steady stream of television channels had provided just because their absolute ruler is unnerved at the independent electronic media’s chutzpah.
The PCO regime’s humiliating treatment of a judiciary that had, for the first time in this beleaguered nation’s history, raised genuine hopes among the hoi polloi and the audacious mauling of lawyers, journalists, political activists, civil society members and even students in the aftermath of the emergency have exposed Islamabad’s Generation Next to the kind of turmoil that disturbs the deep recesses of the mind.
In the face of the current crisis, it will take some courage to hold out hope for our children’s future.
For now, it’s very cold out here in Islamabad.
The writer is News Editor at Dawn News. He may be contacted at kaamyabi@gmail.com
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