THIS has been a very difficult week: two dear friends have been severely tested. Eqbal Ahmed is no longer with us, but Najam Sethi's tribulations continue without any end in sight.
As I watched Eqbal struggle for his life during his final hours, many images and memories flashed through my mind. It will take some time to sort them out and dull the edge of my grief; until then, let me turn to the current persecution of Najam Sethi. Had Eqbal known about the disgraceful way Sethi was picked up from his house at three in the morning, he would have been furious, and I have no doubt the government would have felt the full weight of his anger in his column.
Najam Sethi has been a friend for twenty years, and I have been a regular reader of, and occasional contributor to, The Friday Times ever since it was launched a decade or so ago. Since its earliest days, the weekly has been a fearless crusader for good governance and accountability. Its fierce independence, together with its irreverent style, quickly made it required reading for anybody interested in being on the inside track of Pakistani politics.
Both Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif have been at the receiving end of Sethi's incisive and sardonic editorials, as well as critical pieces penned by TFT's team of writers. Relentlessly, the weekly has printed one devastating expose after another. Documented stories of corruption at the very highest level have established TFT as Pakistan's foremost investigative publication. I am convinced that it is Sethi's uncompromising stance on corruption that has led to his Gestapo-like kidnapping, and not his recent speech in New Delhi, whatever the government's spin doctors may say.
As a matter of fact, the full text of the controversial speech reproduced in last week's TFT as well as The Nation contains nothing Sethi has not said in his editorials before, or that a number of us have not written at one time or another. Indeed, he gave the same speech to the officers attending a course at the National Defence College not long ago, and his insights were widely appreciated. The charge being made by government hacks about the damage done to our image in India by Sethi's speech is so much nonsense: TFT can be, and is, read the world over on the internet, so anyone interested enough in Pakistan has a wide variety of Pakistani publications to choose from.
If the government thinks it has a case of sedition against Sethi, it should have followed the legal and civilized course of going to court with its complaint. Obviously, Mushahid Hussain and his minions suspected that the government would become a laughing stock if it actually filed charges on such flimsy grounds. Anybody who has read the full text of the speech will have noted that Sethi ends by demanding that India should arrive at a fair and honourable settlement of the Kashmir problem. Hardly seditious stuff. His analysis of the situation in Pakistan can scarcely be faulted; however, if the information ministry felt that he had gone over the top, a strong letter to the editor would have surely sufficed.
The immediate cause of the government's fury is the BBC documentary being prepared to highlight corruption alleged to permeate the highest levels of this government. Hussain Haqqani had already been snatched a fortnight or so ago for committing the sin of talking to the BBC team, and now Sethi has fallen victim of a film that still hasn't been aired. These two arrests plus Mushahid Hussain's amazingly puerile letter to the head of the BBC indicate the extent to which this government will go in order to keep the stench of corruption bottled up. Indeed, as a Pakistani I cringed in embarrassment at reading this pathetically undignified letter from our information minister, as well as the BBC's stinging reply.
These acts, combined with the threats and attacks on other journalists, reveal a clear pattern of intimidation against the press. Clearly, no strong, self-confident government behaves in this manner. These are sure signs of nervousness, bordering on hysteria and paranoia. For a government that never tires of boasting about its 'historic mandate', these strong-arm tactics are hard to comprehend. The point is that people are already aware of this government's free and easy way with the public exchequer; we don't need the BBC to confirm this image. By behaving like a bully, the government is only adding further authenticity to the charges that will be made in the documentary. Had it not behaved in such a hamhanded fashion, chances are that the BBC story would have been buried in the World Cup matches that will hold our attention for the next five weeks. But now, copies will surely make the rounds, and be the topic of conversation across the country.
It would appear that having neutralized competing power centres like the presidency, the GHQ and the judiciary, the government feels strong enough now to take on the free press. Given the power of the state, it may even succeed in cowing down the country's independent publications. What then? Arguably, this is the most powerful administration since Zulfikar Ali Bhutto's early days in power. Although Zia was master of all he surveyed, he lacked the legitimacy the PML government has. But what does Nawaz Sharif propose to do when he has silenced his critics in the print media? As an editorial on this subject printed on this page last week asked, why is the government in such a panic? What does it have to hide?
A free press is the sine qua non of a democratic dispensation. The latter is inconceivable without the former. When in the opposition, Nawaz Sharif benefited enormously from the investigative reports produced by independent journalists like Najam Sethi. Now that he is at the receiving end, he has apparently decided to change the rules. To her credit, Benazir Bhutto did not resort to the fascistic methods this government is employing despite a storm of devastating and ultimately destabilizing criticism. More than any other single factor, it was the print media that brought down her government, and Najam Sethi was in the forefront of journalists who ended her second stint in office. But she did not send armed men to beat him up and drag him out of his home at dead of night.
One sad and curious twist to this saga is the role of our high commissioner in India. His report on Sethi's speech has been widely quoted as a defence for the government's action. I have known Ashraf Qazi for years and have respected his intellect and professionalism, but to dub Sethi's views as 'treacherous' is intellectually dishonest. While I can understand his disagreement, I cannot comprehend or applaud Ashraf Qazi's role as the official hatchet man. Doing one's job is one thing, knifing a friend in the back is quite another.
Ironically, Ashraf Qazi has written a short but moving personal tribute to Eqbal Ahmed in this newspaper based on their brief acquaintance. He can rest assured that Eqbal would never have approved of what he has helped the government do to Najam Sethi.