Strawberry season

Published April 22, 2000

FOR the last three years or so, the market has been flooded with ripe, juicy strawberries at this time of the year. A few years ago, only small, pale berries were available in Islamabad for a few short weeks.

It seems that an enterprising lady in Islamabad made a determined effort to grow them at her farm. She got mixed results initially but finally made a breakthrough, and was then imitated by other farmers, and now all the hotels and restaurants in major cities as well as juice-wallas are selling everything from strawberry milkshakes to ice-cream. Similarly, many other fruits have become available over the years where they simply weren't grown in Pakistan before. The excellent varieties of mangoes that we now take for granted just weren't around fifty years ago. Citrus fruit and apples of all kinds are abundant.

The point I am trying to make is that enterprising farmers took the initiative, experimented with different varieties, soils and cuttings, and have flooded the local and international market with high quality products. Similarly, the yields and varieties of food and cash crops have steadily improved, and had it not been for the crushing weight of a three per cent annual population growth rate, Pakistan would have become self-sufficient in food long ago.

In industry, too, the record has been reasonably good. For a country that had hardly any factories or mills at independence, there are now industrial areas in most large cities, and most of our consumer products are manufactured locally. A number of trucks, tractors, cars and motorcycles are partially assembled here. Not bad for a nation that did not even make bicycles in 1947. Arms production, too, has expanded to include a wide range of munitions used by our armed forces.

While this is not intended to be a paean to Pakistani ingenuity and enterprise, I think it is important to remember that at partition, the area that today constitutes Pakistan was the most backward part of the subcontinent. In terms of industry, education and physical infrastructure, the constituent provinces of our country were the boondocks of India. Indeed, many refugees had not even heard of Karachi before they landed up here with their few belongings. The only university in the country was in Lahore, and there were very few schools, hospitals and roads. In addition, a flood of refugees had to be resettled and rehabilitated.

India was far ahead of us in every field with a relatively developed infrastructure, a booming industry, an established network of schools, colleges and universities, and, above all, it had continuity and an identity. Yet 53 years later, Pakistan has somehow managed to reach a point where, according to the World Bank, our GDP per capita stands at $490 against $390 for India. This says as much for individual enterprise in Pakistan as it does for the bureaucratic stranglehold successive Indian governments have maintained over business and industry there. With the strong base it had inherited in 1947, our neighbour was expected to be in the forefront of developing nations. Unfortunately, its entrepreneurs were neutered by the Congress Party's socialistic policies that blindly espoused self-sufficiency and rigid controls.

To illustrate this difference in income levels, my previous driver has a telephone, a motorcycle, a colour TV and a fridge at home. Indian visitors are surprised to see the degree of prosperity even in low-income neighbourhoods. Compared to India, very few people go hungry or sleep in the streets. Shops and restaurants are full, despite the warnings of imminent economic collapse.

But this is not meant to be a self-congratulatory comparison between India and Pakistan. What I want to focus on is the reason for the angst and constant gloom we Pakistanis are prone to. When discussing the state of the nation (which is all the time), we are constantly critical. Indeed, readers have often written to ask if I see any ray of hope. Many complain that all my columns are negative and defeatist. This is partly true, and my excuse is that while we may have been moderately successful in nation-building, we have made a mess of institution-building.

Government after government has come, wreaked havoc and then been kicked out, only to be replaced by an equally venal and inefficient lot. If there has been progress, it has been despite and not because of our leaders. Just imagine where this country could have been today had we had even a modicum of decent leadership. As it is, the continuing crisis of the state has thrown up individuals and organizations that have partially filled this vacuum. The late Dr Akhtar Hameed Khan and his brilliantly successful Orangi Pilot project and Maulana Sattar Edhi and his remarkable nationwide ambulance service spring to mind. There are many others who are quietly doing their bit.

Both uniformed and civilian governments have compounded our institutional failure. The Constitution lies in tatters, "suspended", amended and gutted by a succession of leaders from Bhutto to Zia to Nawaz Sharif. The country has drifted far from the vision of its founder, and is now isolated as a result of its encouragement of fundamentalist and militant elements. Democratic institutions and forces have suffered a series of setbacks caused by ambitious generals and unscrupulous politicians.

So what's the bottom line here? Do the material gains of the last fifty years outweigh the political and institutional setbacks we have suffered? I suppose if you ask the proverbial man in the street, he may well feel that the improvement in his standard of living is more important than the fate of the Constitution. Indeed, he may currently feel that Nawaz Sharif's dismissal is nothing to grieve over.

But when we look at the bigger picture, we see a nation that has made foreign investment virtually impossible by kicking a giant consortium like Hubco around, as well as doing nothing about the insecurity caused by armed bands of religious zealots and ethnic gangs roaming around virtually unchecked; a country where politicians and generals have taken turns at robbing us and making a mess of things; and a country where the fundamental issues have not yet been resolved.

Obviously, such a country does not inspire confidence in the long term, especially when there appears to be no effort to address these problems. Nevertheless, when we get depressed by the antics of our leaders, we can draw some solace from the fact that it is the strawberry season, and the mango season is not far behind.