EVERY DAY, newspapers are front-paging stupendous amounts of money, and properties ranging in size, types and value that aspiring candidates in the upcoming general elections own. Clarifications, denials and rebuttals from indignant politicians or their party spokespersons appear almost as frequently. While it may satisfy some voyeuristic urge in most of us, what does this transparency aim to achieve? Is it meant to remind the lesser mortals to not even think about ever running for office?
A very short list of possible purposes behind this exercise and the benefits that can be derived are; keeping the candidates honest at least once every five years, pointing out any glaring gaps between known means of income and lifestyles, and of course state institutions having it all in one place in case they want to probe further.
However, the manner in which these financial details are used only for sensational headlines in print media and angry TV talk shows derails the collective public thought. People either express disgust over how rich the public representatives are while they themselves find it difficult to make two ends meet, or ridicule the unrealistic values attached to myriad pieces of property.
Why should it matter if Bilawal owns a vehicle or not?
Why should it matter to anyone if the young Bhutto-Zardari owns a vehicle or not? Why should it matter if he has more assets than his father? What should matter to us most is whether the young scion of a political family, nay dynasty, knows what an honest day’s work feels like. Resenting good fortune spawns negative attitudes such as considering all wealth as ill gotten, in the process stigmatising all endeavours aimed at the generation of wealth. Let us not forget that the rich help create jobs. What we should ask is: do these individuals vying for public representation have any basis for their professed empathy towards the common citizens? Similarly, anyone who has only sweated it out on a sporting field cannot really claim to know the travails of a daily-wage labourer who cannot find work because of a dharna. An electorate should also ask if the candidates’ wealth has been amassed through cronyism, influence peddling, playing on an uneven field, tax evasion, etc.
The acquisition of thousands of acres of agricultural land on lease should cause us to ask if the land in question has been acquired from private individuals or public entities like the auqaf the body that, in the mind of most people, looks after mosques and shrines but in reality also manages large tracts of lands attached to shrines and trust properties.
In Sindh, on an average one has to pay somewhere around Rs20,000 to lease an acre of farmland for a year; if public entities on the other hand dole out thousands of acres for a couple of hundred rupees per acre, the electorate must insist on knowing when, where and how open bidding for leasing state-administered land is held. Why is it that only political bigwigs have access to such largesse, and that a hardworking small farmer or landless peasant cannot benefit from it?
Redistribution of wealth and the possible ways of attaining it remains among the most hotly debated topics anywhere. Increasingly, high slabs of taxation depending upon the size of inheritance and an outright ban on it beyond a certain value are among the options being discussed. Why cannot we have that discussion in Pakistan?
Can the much-desired ‘truth and reconciliation’ commission include in its terms of reference an inquiry to determine how large tracts of agricultural land, and loans for setting up industry were acquired? If the answer is ‘as a reward for serving the colonial masters’ and ‘kowtowing to military regimes, and/or cronyism’, the voting public should debate how to correct the situation instead of just venting its spleen on rich kids strutting around with their inherited wealth, or the childish oldies insisting it is their turn to foist a new political elite on the downtrodden.
It will be a shame if such a commission if ever there is one restricts its purview to determining whether a Jaish or a Lashkar has killed more rampantly than armed wings of mainstream political parties, or more forced disappearances can be attributed to organised crime than to the state agencies.
Lest we forget, we must not let foreign funding and donations emanating from outside the country fly under the radar screen. Religious and political parties must account for such fundraising, how these funds are spent and what is expected in return, especially if the funds come from foreign governments.
Wealth generated by the dint of hard work, talent and innovation, and investment of honestly earned money in a high-risk environment like Pakistan, when opportunities for better and safer returns abound, must be appreciated. Fortunes are welcome, but they must not be steeped in crime.
The writer is a poet and analyst.
Published in Dawn, June 27th, 2018
