THE last word is back. The last word never left us. When a renowned analyst wrote with finality under the glaring banner ‘The party is over’, the first suspect which fitted the headline perfectly had to be the PPP.

The PPP is losing muscle by the day and stands as an emaciated, ghostly heir to its former robust self in Punjab. An ever-grinning Mr Zardari at the helm of a ship that is fast sinking is an image frequently invoked to show anger since all other human expressions, crafted to convey ideas or advice about reform, renewal and resurrection, have been rendered redundant. But in case the anger has to be proportionally divided between Mr Zardari and his partners, who are now ditching the party, a railway platform can perhaps supply a more telling analogy. 

Imtiaz Safdar Warraich, Dr Babar Awan, the exalted members of the Zardari inner circle…. They are like passengers who had arrived with tickets to travel in one direction but since that train got cancelled, they decided that it was okay for them to use the momentum that had brought them to the rail station to take another train to another destination.

It is being predicted that the curtains will be drawn on the current instalment of democratic rule by the time the country completes the 70th year of its existence.

This may not be a popular explanation these days, not in the camp of those who have been handpicked by fate to take part in one the greatest revolutions on earth. Nor is the PPP actually the party that has been flashed the ominous ‘over’ sign. The PPP is an old story done to death many times over. The ‘over’ refrain actually predicts the outward journey of those in power in Islamabad and Lahore.

It is being predicted that the curtains will be drawn on the current instalment of democratic rule by the time the country completes the 70th year of its existence. The pundits are firm in their assertion, even if not many of them want to come up with a precise chronology of events leading to the impending ouster.

Quite often the explanation offered is: when it’s over it is over. Did not similar forecasts in the past always prove to be true? Was not Ms Benazir Bhutto once dismissed in the month of August? Was not her father ousted in July? Why can’t others be subjected to the same fate in the same months?

The explanations may sometimes leave laypersons like you and me craving. We can try and quench our search with whatever clues that emerge from the ongoing probe by the joint investigation team (JIT) in the wake of the Panama Papers leaks. The tone, it would appear, points to a countdown to the exit simultaneously under way, somewhere, even if the body language of those who have been marked ‘defected’ one more time continues to defy the farewell chorus.

More evidence is piled up about the inefficiency of the PML-N leadership. There’s Parachinar and then there is Bahawalpur. There is, of course, the large gap in the way the two incidents are treated. The prime minister and the Punjab chief minister were booed for the time they were away from Bahawalpur and they faced criticism verging on taunts after they arrived at the site of the blaze, whereas the elder Sharif has been taken to task over the no-show in Parachinar.

This would fuel the talk about him being made to slip down fast, and a confirmation of the danger is provided by his own words that portray him as having scant respect for the JIT. The word ‘countdown’ has been used with so much authority that it would mean the time for any remedial measures has gone. But surely, there will be something that could still be saved?

If the situation is as grim as is being painted, the best advice that can be given to politicians up against it is that they should stand firmly by and under the shade of their party. This is a difficult piece of advice in the case of Pakistan since the group at the top is populated by not your everyday party workers but a coterie comprising friends and relatives. The circle turns narrower if an exit is imminent and the outgoing incumbent happens to be carrying the doubts and suspicions drawn from previous forced departures.

The party is not worth saving since there was not too much of a party to begin with. The focus of the internal damage-control machinery has to be on some other vital part. Shall we say that for a long-winded, totally uninhibited family affair such as this, premium should be on keeping these close relationships intact?

A lot has been written in the recent past about the strains emerging in the Sharif household, which is kind of unfortunate. In or out of government, this is one tradition whose discontinuation will cause quite a lot of discomfort. People may have their issues with the Nawaz-Shahbaz combine, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that this is one partnership that best symbolises a solid relationship on the basis of the partners’ respect for and understanding of each other’s desires and strengths. That recollection is worth protecting.

It is quite like a duo formed by two classical-singer brothers complementing each other even when each member of the unit has grown on his own. Nawaz has grown deep and is not as open to interpretation as he was when he truly emerged in public at the time of the 1985 polls, accompanied by that vast fleet of vehicles used to ferry voters and those huge bundles of qeema walay naan.

Shahbaz has expanded, having exchanged his striped government office shirt beneath the tie and jacket for khaddar under his various hats. Either one or the other must have caused people — you and me included — much consternation on many occasions, but they do make up a model that is worth keeping and emulating every once in a while. Let the two fade out if they must, together, as one whole. A breakup will leave us poorer by one good tradition.

The writer is Dawn’s resident editor in Lahore.

Published in Dawn, June 30th, 2017