Karzai’s fulminations

PRIME MINISTER Shaukat Aziz’s trip to Kabul was marred by barbed comments by Afghan President Hamid Karzai. What was behind Mr Karzai’s tantrums which now seem to be occurring with greater frequency? On Thursday, he demolished the very edifice of international diplomacy by denying the utility of talks among world leaders. What was even more regrettable was that he violated the basic norms of protocol and courtesy by questioning the very purpose of Mr Shaukat Aziz’s trip to Kabul by saying that “such high-profile” visits did not serve any purpose. Standing at the other podium, Pakistan’s prime minister exercised commendable restraint, for he could have told the Afghan president that summit meetings and “high-profile” visits are not thrust upon the hosts but that meticulous preparatory work is done by aides through diplomatic channels before the date and venue of a visit and the agenda are finalised. If he believed that the meeting with Mr Aziz would not serve any purpose, he should have advised the prime minister not to come. Having agreed to meet and talk with Mr Aziz, Mr Karzai then gave the journalists present there a bit of his wisdom about the state of Afghan-Pakistan relations and said the gap between them was widening.

There are many reasons why Mr Karzai cries — literally — and fulminates. First, Pakistan’s decision to seek a negotiated settlement to religious militancy seems to have brought some peace to the tribal belt, even though much remains to be done. Second, much to Mr Karzai’s annoyance and frustration, western governments have shown signs that they themselves may not be averse to such deals in order to secure an end to fighting in certain areas such as Helmand province. In the US, sections of the media have continued to criticise Islamabad’s policy in harsh terms, but the Bush administration has shown a surprising degree of understanding of Pakistan’s position, at least in public. Similarly, Britain’s attitude can also be interpreted as positive. Third, having failed — like Iraqi Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki — to raise indigenous security forces, Mr Karzai looks to US and Nato troops to bail him out. Unfortunately for him, British commanders in Afghanistan have kept their line of communication open with the Taliban, and the Nato governments do not have their heart in the fighting. After much debate and prodding by Washington, Nato governments have increased the number of their troops, but the end result could hardly cheer Mr Karzai up.

In the resulting situation, all that Mr Karzai can do is throw tantrums, shed tears of frustration, be discourteous to a visiting dignitary and blame Pakistan for his ineffective leadership. If he had political foresight, he would have developed a national consensus for bringing the 27 years of fighting to an end and concentrated on his country’s economic development. Instead, as Mr Aziz told the press conference, both Pakistan and Afghanistan had problems of their own, “for which no other country should be blamed”. From Pakistan’s point of view, there is only one problem: three million Afghan refugees are still in this country. In addition, because of the lawlessness in Afghanistan and the corruption in the administration, Afghans continue to enter Pakistan. It is this aspect of their relationship that deserves to be addressed. This country has suffered enough for being helpful to Afghanistan which, instead of being grateful, has, under the Karzai government, adopted an inimical attitude towards Pakistan.

Risks journalists face

REPORTS released by four international media organisations on the state of journalists in 2006 make for depressing reading. All of them cited the year as one of the bloodiest in terms of the kind and level of danger journalists were exposed to while on the job. The International Federation of Journalists reported that 155 media personnel were murdered or attacked or disappeared mysteriously. Of that number, 68 cases were reported in Iraq alone. The Committee to Protect Journalists reported that 55 journalists were killed in 2006, two short of the record high in 2004. It also expressed concern for journalists in Iraq where it noted that 32 died in the line of duty. Meanwhile, Reporters Sans Frontieres noted that 1,400 media personnel were attacked or threatened in Iraq last year. But where there is so much to bemoan, there are small victories for press freedom in North Africa and the Middle East where organisations are standing up to censorship and demanding an end to severe restrictions placed on the media.

While Pakistan does not figure highly on the list of dangerous countries for journalists — Iraq, Afghanistan and the Philippines ranked as the most dangerous — the country was cited for the increase in violence towards journalists. From January to November, around 100 media persons in the country were either attacked or harassed while four journalists were killed. The four tragic deaths last year remain unsolved. Last month, the IFJ expressed concern about the Pakistan government’s move to establish a Press and Publication Regulatory Authority, saying that it would be “another blow to press freedom in a year which has been the worst for journalists’ rights in the country’s 59-year history.” Such condemnation should serve as a warning to a government that has done little to provide security and protection to journalists covering the unrest in conflict-ridden areas like Fata or Balochistan. No government can afford to silence the press in today’s digital age of information. Those who do adopt threatening tactics towards journalists must be taken to task and the press allowed to do its job in a risk- and intimidation-free environment.

Their deafening silence

STILL waters do not always run deep. At times empty vessels do not make much noise either. Hence the fact that 107 of the 342 members of the National Assembly did not have a word to say on the floor of the House in 2006 is no indication of their profound wisdom. It, however, does indicate that the parliament has a serious quorum problem. It is no coincidence that many of those who chose to remain quiet, including the prime minister who did speak but for only 56 minutes, were also conspicuous by their absence from the assembly on many occasions. It is said that the assembly session had to be adjourned more than 300 times for a lack of quorum since 2002. It would therefore be more revealing if the assembly secretariat were to release the attendance records of the MPs since that would be more telling in the context of their performance.

Given our penchant for talking, one should normally have been surprised by the silence of our legislators. But the fact is that our lawmakers are quite choosy about the forum where they would like to speak. In that context, parliament is the least favoured venue. Although they draw hefty perks by virtue of their membership of this august body and enjoy a privileged status in society because they are supposed to represent the people, yet the contempt they show for parliament is disgusting. Hence their lack of interest in attending parliamentary sessions, doing their homework on issues of importance to their constituents and articulating their views and opinions. They have the privilege to raise their voice in the House — not everyone has that privilege — yet they choose not to exercise it. If anything, this calls for an explanation. Why are many of them not doing the job they are paid and sworn to do?

Where is Quaid-i-Azam’s Pakistan?

THE territorial integrity and unity of states, particularly multi-national states like Pakistan that are vulnerable to ethno-centric forces, cannot be guaranteed by bullets and bayonets. On the contrary, coercion unleashes centrifugal forces that erode the sensitive and fragile social, political and ethnic tethers that bind a multi-national state. We need to look no further than our own short, chequered past to appreciate the validity of this assertion.

The glue that binds multi-national states together and makes them stable and strong is a social contract between its component units based on consensus and wilful acquiescence in expectation of liberty, equality, equity, peace and prosperity. Mutual respect, trust, and fair play must intrinsically form the core of any such social contract. Given such an environment, the spirit of fraternity that consequently flows from it cements the bond between the component units, thereby strengthening the state.

Pakistan came into being on the basis of such a social contract between the Sindhi, Punjabi, Baloch, Pashtun and Bengali people on the basis of the Pakistan Resolution. But the consensus and acquiescence among these provinces that gave birth to Pakistan is nowhere to be seen now. One could actually argue that this consensus was no more than a mirage even back in 1947, since Balochistan objected with the first post-partition sunrise and troops had to be sent in to silence all dissent by force.

The armed forces, having built permanent fortifications and trenches in the mountains which they use from time to time to quell political unrest and ‘anti-state’ sentiments, have become a more or less permanent feature of the province. Instead of resolving contentious issues amicably to allow mutual trust among the provinces of Pakistan to develop an iron fist approach has been employed which has shattered all remaining semblance of unity and cohesion.

The tragedy lies in the fact that the deep fissures that have opened up are not products of any flaws in the social contract, but are an artificial phenomenon generated by a specific clique in an attempt to establish the domination of one larger province over the other smaller ones in blatant violation of the original social contract. This has, predictably, sent the smaller nationalities into a centrifugal spin.

The Pakistan Resolution guaranteed that the component units of Pakistan would be “sovereign and autonomous” in their own affairs. But the Sindhi, Baloch, Pushtoon and Bengali peoples saw a different post-independence reality that was the antithesis of everything contained in the Pakistan Resolution.

A new creed of opportunism, expediency and hegemonic tendencies replaced the promise of the Pakistan Resolution. This wayward drift has systematically pushed the country to the edge of the precipice. It is now a crime to even talk about the Pakistan Resolution since it amounts to holding a mirror before Caliban in which he cannot avoid seeing his own ugliness.

In the aftermath of the brutal killing of Nawab Akbar Bugti and his tribesmen, a grand jirga of Baloch sardars was summoned by the Khan of Kalat in Quetta on September 21, 2006. It was attended by 85 sardars and 300 tribal elders, including those the government claims to have in its pocket. They declared that Balochistan was no longer a part of Pakistan since the rights of the Baloch people, ensured by a covenant signed by the Khan of Kalat, the British government and the government of Pakistan, had been violated and they announced their intent to move the International Court of Justice.

A follow-up grand jirga, held on October 2, 2006, reaffirmed the declaration of the first jirga. What clearer demonstration can there be of a breakdown of national consensus?

The killing of Nawab Akbar Bugti was a catalytic spark that ignited the already simmering Baloch passions. I was in Quetta a few days after the tragic incident to condole with the late Nawab’s sons. The provincial capital wore the look of a town under siege; all roads were cordoned off in the town centre by police and Rangers, who were out in a massive display of strength on the one hand, while the people were out in the streets on the other, giving vent to their frustrated emotions. It brought back memories of the darkest, and final, days of the Ayub junta.

In such a charged and volatile situation, any genuinely representative government, having already achieved their goal of eliminating a perceived obstacle in the person of the late Nawab, would see the need to diffuse the tension by trying to forge some sort of rapprochement with the alienated masses, if not their leaders, by extending an olive branch to them.

But rapprochement and reconciliation are beyond the scope of the men in boots in Islamabad who only know how to use force, unless expediency or survival instincts dictate otherwise.

Then it is acceptable to reconcile with anyone, including the menacing clerics in parliament, the Taliban elders in Waziristan or even those politicians they, not long ago, vilified as being corrupt or terrorists.

But the common citizens are not afforded the same deferential treatment when they come out on the streets to demand their rights. For them are reserved threats of dire consequences and, most recently, a promise to ‘rub their noses in the dirt.’ This approach can only add fuel to fire and further antagonise an already alienated people.

The situation in Sindh is not very different. The government has not yet resorted to the use of force here as it has in Balochistan and the Frontier, but given the collision course set between the people and the government on core issues like the Kalabagh Dam, leasing of islands to foreign companies, establishment of non-Sindhis and criminals as de facto masters of Sindh, NFC Award, etc., one wonders how far off the exercise of that option can be. The government has made it a point to adopt policies and projects that every man, woman and child in Sindh is protesting against on a daily basis.

This approach by the government has miraculously achieved something that was hitherto deemed impossible: It has united Sindh. Not only have all big and small opposition parties come closer together to cooperate in defence of Sindh’s interests, even the ministers, advisers, MNAs, MPAs and Senators of the ruling party dare not promote the government agenda in public.

Perhaps the reason why the government has not so far felt the need to resort to force in Sindh is because they have found a large band of belly-crawling sycophants here who are willing and eager to tow the government line, if in exchange for their services the government will prop them up in power and allow them to loot and plunder public and private resources. Hence, in order to secure their position, not only have new districts and constituencies been demarcated in Sindh, but electoral rolls, which had been compiled anew and computerised only four years ago, have been redrafted to their tailor-made specifications.

This unholy wedlock between the boots and the suits is a union made in hell because Sindh is having to pay a very heavy price for their honeymoon. The betrayal of its own sons has hit Sindh harder than bullets.

The government has made up its mind to use these mercenaries, terrorists and criminals and totally bypass the people to push ahead with its unpopular agenda. No serious attempt has been made to enter into a dialogue with the genuine leaders of the people to resolve the impasse.

The sole half-hearted attempt made by President Musharaf ended in embarrassment for him when, during his speech at Sukkur airport on December 23, 2005, a man in the audience that had been carefully sifted for the occasion by the agencies, stood up and asked him not to mention Kalabagh Dam in front of them because the very mention of it made their blood boil. The International Republican Institute can embellish its survey all it wants but this is the reality of the popularity of the president and his agenda in Sindh.

The government’s approach of defying public opinion can only lead to disaster. It will widen the gap between the rulers and the ruled, aggravate tensions and frustrations and damage the unity of Pakistan.

The need of the hour is to build bridges of understanding, create an atmosphere of reconciliation and regenerate the consensus that led to the creation of this country.

This cannot be achieved by means of an iron fist approach. History illustrates that such an approach may stifle a few individuals but cannot work against the masses.

Far greater and supposedly even more invincible dictators like the Shah of Iran, Ferdinand Marcos of the Philippines and Ayub Khan of Pakistan were swept away by the wrath of the people.

In the face of a shockwave of public discontent, even their foreign overlords, with all their power and might, had to get out of the way.