Uncertainty and confusion

SINCE Friday’s drama surrounding the “non-functional” Chief Justice, Mr Iftikhar Mohammad Chaudhry’s status as a free citizen remains unclear. The government has chosen to keep his status unclear and does not seem to realise the enormous harm being done to its image by its gaucherie. Even though the police have sealed off his home, Interior Minister Aftab Sherpao and State Minister for Information Tariq Azim have said that no restrictions have been placed on Justice Chaudhry and that anybody can meet him. However, a Muslim League delegation was denied entry to his house. He may not be under house arrest as such, but for all practical purposes his freedom has been curtailed. Worse still, his telephone and cable TV have been cut, and the delivery of newspapers stopped. It is not clear what purpose these steps are intended for. If the idea behind his vague status as a free citizen is to deny the media access to him, this has failed, for the media has been reporting on the aftermath of Friday’s dramatic development. The result is greater confusion. Things would be far less confusing and speculation-prone if the media had been allowed free access to Justice Chaudhry. Instead, much of what is appearing in the electronic and print media is through what Mr Asghar Khan and some “brother judges” who met him on Sunday quoted him as saying.

Reportedly, Justice Chaudhry has denied the allegations against him, is not willing to resign “under pressure”, and is prepared to face the Supreme Judicial Council probe. While a comment on the allegations against him may constitute contempt of court, what can be safely said is that the hearing should be public. If the government has nothing to hide, it should welcome the petitions which the Supreme Court Bar Association and the Pakistan Bar Council intend to file with the SJC for permission to be heard during the proceedings beginning today. Innocent until proved guilty is the fundamental principle of justice. For that reason every “accused” — and it hurts that a Supreme Court Chief Justice should be in that category — must be given full opportunities to defend himself. While Justice Chaudhry standing in the dock is a blow to the judiciary, the presidential reference to the SJC and all that has been happening since then have created serious misgivings in the public’s mind about the military-led government’s intentions, especially when a general election is due later this year.

More intriguing is Chaudhry Shujaat’s comment. If reported correctly, the Muslim League chief said that what had happened since Friday was an “internal matter between the army and the judiciary”. Even though he said he had no right to express his views on the matter, he did give his opinion, which was perplexing if not outlandish. Since when has the army been authorised to deal with the judiciary? One is sure the ruling party chief knows that a state has three organs — the executive, legislature and the judiciary — and they inter-act and check each other to ensure a smooth running of constitutional government. Where does the army figure here — except as an intruder? A word of caution for the lawyers: revulsion is understandable, but they should ensure that the issue does not get overtly politicised. Yesterday’s police action against lawyers’ protest rally in Lahore exposed the ruling party’s sensitivity to discontent brewing among the legal community.

Protecting national treasures

THE US government’s move to help Pakistan reclaim possession of artefacts smuggled out of the country is a healthy sign of increased global cooperation in the fight against stealing of antiquities. Thirty-eight artefacts seized by US port authorities in September 2005 have so far found their way back to Pakistan and more are expected shortly. The stolen antiquities include Gandhara-era statues, sculptures and other ancient relics. The kingdom of Gandhara, which lasted from the 6th century BC to 11 AD and had its primary urban centres at Purushapura (modern-day Peshawar) and Takshashila (Taxila), left behind a treasure trove of relics that are the enviable heritage of Pakistan and are revered round the globe. Unfortunately, their monetary value and the degree to which they are coveted make them a prime target for smugglers as well as influential local ‘patrons’ of the arts.

The Convention Concerning the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage, which was adopted by Unesco in 1972 and which came into force in 1975, clearly prohibits the sale or smuggling of national treasures. The convention applies not only to signatory countries of origin and destination but also those that lie on transit routes. In the context of Pakistani relics, increased vigilance is required not only by local and western authorities but also by the Gulf nations, particularly the UAE, which serve as transit points in the antiquities trade. Protecting national treasures may be a global responsibility but it is important that Pakistan gets its own house in order. The underfunded and understaffed archaeology department must be bolstered if it is to safeguard our heritage. As things stand, both local and foreign antiquity thieves plunder at will because of woefully inadequate security at archaeological sites across the country. Even theft from museums, in collusion with caretakers and staff members, is quite common. This can be stopped only through increased vigilance and care by the archaeology department personnel. Security at exit points must also be beefed up and made foolproof. Some genuine oversight is possible at a busy port such as Karachi, but the complicity of customs officials with smugglers is not an unknown phenomena either.

Nothing to lose

LOW public expectations may well work to the advantage of Inzamamul Haq and company. As Pakistan start their World Cup campaign today with a match against the West Indies, both fans and experts have all but written off the 1992 champions as serious contenders for the trophy. This pessimism, often bordering on the dismissive, is based more on the loss of three key players than the ability of those who currently comprise the squad. What could have been has completely overshadowed what still could be. Pakistan’s poor showing in South Africa earlier this year has also dampened hopes, even though conditions in the West Indies should be vastly different and much more to the liking of subcontinental sides. At the same time, Pakistan will not be under the sort of pressure facing those considered favourites by enthusiasts and professionals alike. Having nothing to lose can be a potent tonic, one that can transform the outlook and battle plans of the underdog. What’s more, there is a chance that the opposition may underestimate what is clearly a depleted side, an approach that can benefit Pakistan.

Team unity and a collective respect for the captain are Pakistan’s biggest plus points. Inzamam’s side is not plagued by the infighting and bickering that was the hallmark of Pakistan cricket when there were superstars aplenty and precious little team spirit. The odd unsavoury incident may still occur, but the problem is anything but endemic. New Zealand are a prime example of what a talented but unheralded bunch of cricketers can achieve in one-day cricket simply by playing as a team. This much at least Pakistan can do: put up a united front and fight bravely. Cricket can be stranger than fiction, and there is no telling how the next seven weeks will unfold.

Corruption not yet limitless

SOMETHING does not quite gel in this extraordinary tale of hawala transactions by a certain Hasan Ali Khan, once of Hyderabad and now of Pune. It is difficult to correlate billions of rupees, let alone dollars, and the languorous leftovers of an exhausted Nizam nobility in the same sentence.

Unlike so many nameless Mumbai and Delhi business and political VIPs who must, right now, be shivering in their sleep, I have never had the privilege of meeting Mr Khan, but my psychograph suggests that he is much more likely to send a cheque for Rs20,000 to the wife of an income-tax officer, which then has the temerity to bounce, than to wallow in billions.

It is obvious that Hasan Khan is involved in something outside his grasp or class; he was an intermediary, an agent, and this was not his money. The scraps of such transactions must have kept him content.

Hyderabad is still full of characters who have dropped from the decay of an effete class and saved themselves from social extinction with a soft landing on the margins of the race course. The asset side of their balance sheet, both fiscal and social, is dim: they survive by selling the past, either their inheritance, or their memories.

The charms of both have been overtaken by time. If they had homes they have either rotted or, with better reason, been dynamited; if they had businesses, then, exceptions apart, only those that were sold still live. Decline has been accompanied by a rigid personal and public religious morality, which is a paradox, since their parents were far more relaxed: perhaps this is a form of atonement for wasted lives.

However, such morality never prevents a flutter at the race course or the flush table; nor does it come in the way of a fluid attitude to the famous twins, bribery and corruption. The one indisputable plus of this class, though, is an exquisite sense of “tehzeeb”: they are walking, and often bowing, examples of extraordinary grace and superb manners, redolent of an age that once illuminated many chapters of our nation’s social history.

Such qualities make them socially affable, and lift them seamlessly to the highest echelons of the business and political elite. For most of this sinking elite, “tehzeeb” and a proud sense of honour become a safety net: decay does not quite collapse into degeneration.

Hasan Khan is an exception, because he made an early reputation for white collar crime, a forged signature here, a fudged car there; in time he changed both wife and city. This did not affect his social circle, or his social circulation. He was apparently quite the lad on the Pune race course, up there among the studs of the grand boxes.

As experience informs us repeatedly, there is not that much distance between grace and disgrace. When the law arrives, unexpectedly of course, the VIPs who used them disappear behind the protection of connections, and the agent is left to fend for himself in the glare of the spotlight. Suddenly, the suave charm crumbles into the brittle dust of police files.

One wing of government has denied that the hawala sums were as much as Rs30,000 crores, a figure that floated through the media, or that Swiss banks (an almost inevitable component of such a story, despite the fact that Swiss banks are no longer as rigid about secrecy as they are famous for) were involved.

But that is not really the point. What is it about such colossal figures that media, or the public, never pauses to ask whether it can be true? We have become so inured to corruption of every kind, at every level, that every figure is accepted without question: “Rs30,000 crores sent out by one individual? Must not only be true, but is probably an under-estimate.”

Who makes up such figures and passes them on to media, which then proceeds to make it a public truth? How long will that truth remain such a reality? Till the media’s interest is shifted by another story. What happens then to the Hasan Khan bandwagon?

Nothing much, in all probability: he is bailed out by the powerful interests on whose behalf he was working, and is again visible at glittering parties, oiling his way across the floor (in the immortal phrase used by Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady). The crooked Pune businessman will return to the podium to give lectures on honesty, and flail against the evils of Delhi; politicians will return to their desks to think up new laws with which to punish businessmen.

If it is any consolation to anyone, then both tribes have an example on exhibit. The horse whisperer from Pune has more than his match in a member of parliament from Assam, M.K. Subba, who has simply bought his way into India’s ruling party, Congress, and ruling institution, parliament.

One man’s crime is a problem; but what we have now in India is a crisis.

Corruption is not just the luxury of the rich. It is also the aspiration of the poor. In so many cases, success is defined by the size of the take. The jobless dream of government jobs where the bribe is the highest. Corruption is a pack ritual, with small communities – take the police thana, for instance – protecting one another and sharing the loot on a carefully calculated pro rata basis.

If you break rank and culture, you are in danger of being dismissed as an untouchable. There is no class which is immune from corruption, or ready to place any barricades. Corruption is no longer an issue which affects voters.

I thought once that a market-driven private sector would provide at least a partial solution. The logic went something like this: if profit was the only motive of a listed company driven by share prices, then there would be at least some social benefits to compensate for the many liabilities. Profit does not have caste or creed.

Many of the old business mandarins, protected by political patrons, indulged in rampant casteism and communalism when they hired. Bias is always wasteful, and cannot compete with competence as the sole criterion, and therefore selection in jobs would be less partisan. But, as the Pune case shows, you cannot dam the inventiveness of a private sector businessman intent on thieving from his own business, particularly when there is an obliging middleman waiting at the door to shift the swag around.

So how come, if we are all guilty, anyone gets caught? Fortunately, we are not all guilty, although most of us might find a place in the category.

Does luck have anything to do it? A little, perhaps. If you are standing in the way when a law enforcement truck happens to roll around, you have only kismet to blame for getting hit. The more relevant answer may lie in limits: while corruption may be pervasive, it is not yet limitless. There is a law, and while it is realistic enough not to chase every minnow, it does need to bait and reel in a big fish to send a message to the sea.

Hasan Khan is not that big fish; he was operating on the surface. The sea will get a message only when those lurking at deeper levels are in the net.

The writer is the editor-in-chief of The Asian Age, New Delhi.

Ulster says yes

THE old cry that the people of Northern Ireland wanted peace, but their politicians got in the way, did not always stand up to scrutiny. Many voters, in both communities, directly supported the individuals and organisations that carried out violent acts in their name.

But the results of last week's election in the province could hardly have been clearer. Parties that oppose violence and back power-sharing, at least in principle, won well over 90 per cent of the vote on a high turnout. Extremists — both Republican Sinn Féin and Robert McCartney's unionists — struggled. So the electorate backed devolution. Will politicians deliver?

The answer depends almost entirely on the leader of what is now Northern Ireland's largest political organisation, the Democratic Unionist party. There was a time when a high DUP vote would have been seen as fatal to political progress in the province.

Ian Paisley made his name as Dr No; as recently as 2005 he said that sharing power "would be treason and we would never be guilty of that".

Times change, and so has Dr Paisley, even if the 81-year-old preacher can still fall back into a fiery negativity.

He has not said that he will do a deal, but DUP voters went to the polls with the assumption that a vote for his party was a vote for devolution. If he holds off he will be resisting the will of most unionist voters. Defiance would be the foible of a stubborn old man.

Whether agreement is reached by the March 26 deadline set in law after the St Andrews agreement is a different matter. Peter Hain, the Northern Ireland secretary, insisted yesterday that the date is fixed: if no deal is done the government will push ahead instead with direct rule with a green tinge, giving Dublin a greater say and scrapping the Stormont assembly.

He sounds like he means it, too, but as a way of forcing the pace it is undermined by the reality that not everyone thinks London would walk away if agreement looked possible. Dr Paisley may want to hold out for a little longer, if only to show that he can. He has run out of other objections to sitting down with Sinn Féin, which has done much more than most people thought possible, including backing the police, and whose leaders are clearly hungry for a deal before the Irish election in May or June.

— The Guardian, London