Lost in a surreal world

Published November 17, 2007

IN these surreal times, we need a Salvador Dali to paint what is happening in Pakistan. His iconic paintings of a bizarre universe in which familiar objects were transformed into strange, haunting images come to mind as we wonder at the disconnect between words and actions, between reality and the deceit being poured out by this government.

And if we were to look for a novelist to describe current events, it would have to be George Orwell, the author of 1984. In this bleak, prophetic vision of an authoritarian future, Orwell invents ‘newspeak’ as shorthand for the government’s manipulation of the truth for its own ends. This concept has since been widely used by spin-doctors and marketing gurus around the world.

Consider, for instance, Musharraf’s insistence that he imposed the present emergency to facilitate the return of democracy. This is not unlike choking a drowning man on the grounds that this might lead to his resuscitation.

As we watch thousands of peaceful citizens, lawyers, human rights activists and political party workers being jailed for no reason, it is hard to buy the official line that all this is good for the country. With his government emerging as the biggest law-breaker of all, who can believe Musharraf’s promise that he will indeed take off his uniform?

And what are we to make of these words spoken by Musharraf in an interview with Sky News recently: “We may lose the battle on terror because of misreporting by some parts of the media in Pakistan and around the world?”

Exactly how misreporting by the media has led to hundreds of army officers and soldiers laying down their weapons before a handful of militants without firing a shot is unclear. Surely newspaper columns and chat shows on TV channels cannot be made the scapegoat for the gains being made by the extremists across the country.

In the same interview, Musharraf said that “he had decided he was the only person who could lead Pakistan towards democracy”. Well, he has chosen an odd way of going about his self-appointed task. By locking up all his opponents, he is hardly promoting the democratic values of tolerance and respect for dissent.

The use of the threat from suicide bombers to curtail political activity is a new ploy that is proving very useful. Benazir Bhutto’s People’s Party is the usual target, and she is currently under house arrest to ‘protect’ her. Don’t get me wrong: as we have all learned, the PPP leader is indeed under threat from the jihadis. But if this excuse is going to be used to prevent the PPP from holding rallies over the next few weeks until the elections, it will be under a severe handicap.

Indeed, anybody who believes that under these circumstances, free and fair elections can really be held is living in a Dali-esque universe where nothing is as it seems. Under the draconian emergency rules, and the recent amendment in the Army Act to make it possible to court-martial civilians, holding credible polls is about as difficult as making ice cream in hell.

Those of us long familiar with the ways of elections in Pakistan can see that the rigging began months ago. The daily barrage of TV and newspaper ads extolling the deeds and virtues of the PML-Q led government, paid for by the exchequer, is a clear breach of electoral laws. And yet, the Election Commission has been a silent witness to this blatant campaign.

Recently, a Lahore paper carried a half-page ad placed by the ruling party in which a letter purportedly written by Benazir Bhutto to Peter Galbraith in 1990 was reproduced. According to this letter, the former prime minister appealed for US sanctions as a response to the dismissal of her government. Clearly, this is the beginning of an anti-Bhutto smear campaign that will only gain in venom and intensity. So when information ministry spokesmen talk about a code of conduct to prevent defamation, we know that this is aimed only at protecting the government, and not the opposition.

While the PPP is not being allowed to hold public meetings on security grounds, Pervaiz Elahi of the PML-Q is addressing small crowds across Punjab. The question that remains unanswered is why his public meetings are not under threat from the suicide bombers. Could it be that these jihadis view the PML-Q as their ally? Given the party’s track record over the Lal Masjid crisis when its leadership did everything it could to protect the militants, this is not a far-fetched conclusion to draw.

Meanwhile, a caretaker government has been sworn in to conduct the elections. Normally, there is consultation between the government and the opposition before a neutral setup is named. But given the current breakdown between the two sides, no such exercise was undertaken.

Although the caretaker PM has taken over, the real head of government will be General Musharraf, just as he has been these last eight years. And as we all know, he is hardly neutral. In a parliamentary democracy, the president is supposed to have no party affiliation, and is therefore expected to be above the fray. In this case, Musharraf would be the clear beneficiary of a victory of the ruling coalition.

Disillusioned by Benazir Bhutto’s open opposition to his continued rule, he has no options but to pray for the return of the Chaudhrys to power. And if you pray hard enough from GHQ, the gods are apt to listen. Thus, Musharraf’s credentials as a neutral umpire are suspect at best.

Another factor militating against fair elections is the decapitation of the higher judiciary. Now, appeals against rigging will be heard by a docile Election Commission, and judges neutered by the PCO. The teams of international observers who will no doubt descend to monitor the elections will be oblivious to the real rigging that takes place behind the scene before and after the polls.

Finally, the last guarantor of transparent elections has been taken out of the game. By removing independent TV channels from the airwaves, the government has ensured that the public will be unable to see the chicanery that will no doubt go on if and when elections are held. In their absence, I will happily settle for a Dali or an Orwell.