On March 11, as a contribution to our edification, we read the previous day's pronouncement of our prime minister, to a visiting British parliamentary delegation : "We [he and his government?] are promoting an Islamic, moderate, enlightened and progressive society."
With all this moderation, enlightenment and progress, all we can do is ask Mr Jamali where exactly in his great scheme do certain matters fit - such as the Hudood Ordinances, the Jirga justice system, the practice of karo-kiri, the implementation of the Blasphemy Laws, and the targeted killing of Shias in their places of worship? Can he name one single proponent of his great promotion campaign?
He also informed his visitors that 'contrary to previous practice, no member of the opposition has been harassed or victimized.' Had Javed Hashmi conveniently slipped his mind? And how about the arrest of a couple of hundred of men a few days prior to Shahbaz Sharif's supposed triumphant return to the country of his birth? And what was to come when the aborted arrival did take place? Journalists and reporters were deprived of their cameras and laptops which were later returned minus films and discs, and a BBC man was manhandled and his equipment damaged.
This unfortunate country has suffered in silent passive misery at the hands of those who have jockeyed themselves into positions of power. The history of the decade between the departure to his heavenly abode of General Ziaul Haq in August 1988 and the arrival on horseback of General Pervez Musharraf in October 1999 can be written in less than ten paragraphs.
From December 2, 1988, to August 6, 1990, the parliamentary system of government as peculiarly practised in this Islamic Republic allowed Benazir Bhutto to be employed in the first job she had ever held - that of prime minister, under the beady unfriendly eye of a powerfully armed president, Ghulam Ishaq Khan. Clueless as she was, as far as governance is concerned, she gave full rein to her legally wedded husband, allowing him to exercise total control over the people's banks and financial institutions, the administration and the judicial system. At the very first opportunity afforded him, G. I. Khan struck.
From November 6, 1990, to April 18 1993, Mian Nawaz Sharif, seasoned in Pakistani governmental affairs as he had for many a year been the chief minister of powerful Punjab, was promoted to prime minister, again under the supervision of G.I. Khan, who, when Nawaz got too uppity, struck again. Then came a short interlude of 38 days during which Nawaz Sharif's petition against his ouster was heard and upheld by the Supreme Court. (Let us remember how the stern and upright G.I. Khan, for his own dishonourable purposes, unashamedly swore into his short-lived caretaker cabinet Asif Zardari, a man he had sacked and jailed.)
Nawaz, carried on the shoulders of his exulting partymen, was reinstalled as prime minister on May 26, and proceeded to become even more uppity, so much so that the army chief, Wahid Kakar, was forced to step in on July 18 and get rid of both him and the soured G.I. Khan.
Come October 19, 1993, and back came Benazir Bhutto and her husband, with a vengeance, this time under what was thought to be the friendly eye of a supposedly grateful hand-picked president, Sardar Farooq Ahmad Khan Leghari. Again, excess knew no limits, in too many ways, and the president, by this time in exceedingly unfriendly and ungrateful frame of mind, struck, and off she went on Guy Fawkes Day of 1996.
February 17, 1997, brought back Nawaz, also with a vengeance, and also determined to make up for lost time. He managed to rid himself of a by-now unpredictable president, Leghari, and brought in tame and malleable Rafiq Ahmad Tarar, the less said about whom the better.
Nawaz cleaned up the judiciary (he created history when his partymen physically attacked the Supreme Court and its judges), parliament, and the Constitution, his aim being to transform the un-Islamic Republic and declare himself Amir-ul-Momineen. He moved on the army front, and installed as chief a person he thought would be an obedient sort of a chap (shades of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto). Having grossly overstepped the mark, the chief, General Pervez Musharraf, had no alternative but to move on October 12, 1999, and oust Nawaz.
There were four periods of caretakership, under relatively well-meaning men in between the comings and goings of the two democratic despots, none of which produced anything positive but did give the country badly needed respites from the gross abuses of power and equally gross plunder of its assets.
Needless to say, Benazir and Nawaz, during the eleven years of their game of musical chairs, loathed each other, though they had much in common. Experts at draining their own nation, both impoverished an already impoverished country, both second rounds allowed them, thanks to the parliamentary system, being far worse than the two firsts.
It can never be established who robbed more, as such persons are not in the habit of rendering receipts, but it can safely be said that the proceeds of the robbing amounted to billions of dollars in both cases. Neither has denied that he or she was corrupt, nor that they made as much as they could and made it easy for their friends and relatives to follow suit. They made full use of power to their full advantage and the amazing thing is that the majority of their compatriots raised no objections. Their main justifications for all their wrongdoings were that they were 'freely and fairly elected'. So be it.
Both are now more or less in the same boat - one in imposed exile and the other is in self-exile. Both now stand disqualified to fight for a third term, but then things can change overnight. Their mutual loathing has dissipated in the face of their loathing for President General Pervez Musharraf. The remnants of their parties have aligned with each other, expressing brotherly love, united in politics and principles in the face of the common enemy.
Benazir expresses her outrage at the exile of Nawaz, whilst Nawaz murmurs words of sympathy for her plight. Benazir championed the return to his homeland of brother Shahbaz Sharif and spat venom at Musharraf and his government for not allowing him what she and likeminded ones now term rightful entry.
In 2000, Shahbaz, with brother Nawaz and the rest of the Sharif clan laughed their way out to exile in Saudi Arabia, transported there in a special plane sent for them by the Rulers of the Holy Land. On medical grounds, Shahbaz was later allowed to fly to the US for necessary treatment.
When all was well, he shuffled off to London where he presumably made his plans, saying to himself that if Mahmud of Ghazni managed 17 raids into the land that now is Pakistan, why should he and his brother be restricted to two? His attempted comeback of 2004 flopped miserably. The Saudis kept their part of the bargain, our government handled the whole matter in a most hamfisted manner, and bundled him back to the Kingdom. But we can expect no better from the likes of our InfoCzar, Sheikh Rashid. If Pakistan's luck holds, Sharif brothers will now complete their ten-year exile.
Back to May 11, the day nuclear scientist-cum-philosopher Pervez Hoodbhoy came to Karachi to screen the video of his documentary on Kashmir and the sufferings of its people. We heard words spoken by realists who looked at Kashmir 'with new eyes, and new hope for a new way forward.'
Discussion followed, the consensus arrived at: what looks us in the face should not be termed a 'core issue'. It is a matter that can be simply settled in a spirit of flexibility. But, then, good sense is a rare attribute in our corner of the world.