Set aside the brutal response of the state to protesting PIA workers in Karachi. Set aside the notion of whether privatisation is needed or not in PIA. Set aside too the shameless cooption of workers causes by anti-worker political forces. And think about how quickly the dead became fodder for political agendas and point scoring, even before their families had grieved and buried them. Think about how quickly our emotions processed human death and moved on from tragedy. Think about how we are losing our humanity and how we have let our emotions become cheap.

Debates following the tragic deaths of protesting PIA workers in Karachi have largely focused on whether privatisation needs to be carried out or not, on whether the unions need to be disbanded or not, on whether the Rangers should stay in Karachi or not. Parties that had absolutely nothing to do with anti-privatisation efforts of the unions jumped in, as if they had been weathered friends of labour. The debate soon turned to the government, of how to bring them down and exact revenge.

Many of these discussions have been framed and led by middle-class television anchors, whose measure of success depends on ratings. These anchors seem to view public inconvenience as a priority — flight delays are a more important cause than a life being ended.

But this parochialism is nothing new, although its rise to becoming the mainstream position of choice is alarming. Remember when young doctors were protesting across the country for increase in their salaries and payment of dues? Our public reaction was that they were doing a disservice to those who come to hospitals to find treatment.

Parochial outrage has become the currency of political thought

It is this focus on the immediate, self-serving cause that reflects our dichotomies: those seeking honourable livelihoods are criticised, their causes are often subsumed to disruption of public convenience. In our selfishness, we forget that nobody wants their livelihoods to be snatched away from under their feet.

Disruption of our lives because of a protest is merely to highlight how central the protestors are to running a particular service, whether it is at an airport or at a hospital. Disruption of our lives is meant to breed some sympathy, if not empathy. Disruption of our lives is a call to wake up, that it is someone else today and it could be us tomorrow.

But the way debates are framed on television and on social media, they do not allow any space for critical thought or reflection. Tragedy is now merely another point of argument, be it the deaths in Model Town, Lahore, or the APS attack in Peshawar, or the attack on Bacha Khan University, Charsadda. Tragedy is as disposable and fleeting as a ticker on any news channel. Read, shake your head, and move on.

In the wake of the killings last Tuesday, before there was news on who the victims were and what they are leaving behind, there were blind allegiances to pro-privatisation causes or to the Rangers. The argument was that irrespective of whatever happened, the Rangers’ role in curbing terrorism from Karachi needed to be acknowledged and recognised. Privatisation of a national service will always draw competing and charged responses from various quarters. That debate is healthy. But if ever there was a case of bad timing, of arguing the merits and demerits of privatisation, this was it.

Nobody bothered to visit the households of the dead that day, nobody offered support or solidarity. There was outrage, but all of it was on the media and social media. There was outrage but most of it did not focus on the lives affected and the families destroyed. There was outrage, largely because our privilege and conveniences were being disturbed. There was outrage, only to suit our assumptions and biases, not because we were pained by human loss.

The writer tweets @ASYusuf

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, February 7th, 2016