The Pakistani predicament cannot be understood or fully explained without a reference to history. We are what we are in large part because of the circumstances of our birth. That we were unprepared for statehood was no big disability.
Nations learn on the march and we could have done the same. But we were scarred by something else. Our vision of statehood was very limited. In that sense it was flawed.
Partition and independent statehood should have meant a liberation of the spirit, a broadening of our mental horizons. But in our endeavour to construct an ideological state, resting on a system of thought, which drew inspiration from the past, we set about erecting high walls and embankments around national thought. We should have been a progressive nation. We became instead an outpost of reactionary thinking.
To a large extent this reflected the kind of leadership we had. The Indian national movement had produced a whole range of outstanding leaders, spanning the political spectrum from right to left. With the perennial exception of Jinnah and one or two others, the leadership of the Muslim League was plodding and lustreless, nawabs and sardars drawn mostly from the aristocracy and the landed class. Such a leadership could not create a progressive nation.
There was another vital difference between the Indian national movement and the movement for the creation of Pakistan. The former struggled for independence from the British whereas the primary aim of the latter was to seek safeguards for the Muslim community against the Hindu majority.
Jinnah was amongst the first of the Indian nationalists. We must always bear this in mind. But on the whole the Muslim League leadership was not in the forefront of the fight against the British. That was not part of their outlook. Worried about the future they sought bulwarks against Hindu rule. And, given their social background, they were mortally afraid of anything that carried even a remote hint of socialism.
This was not a fighting mentality. This was a defensive mentality and its nature put a stamp on the texture and psychology of the new state. Small wonder then that audacity and the taking of risks, the ability to think big, were not the defining characteristics of our birth.
We did not prosecute the Kashmir war, 1947-48, with the vigour that the enterprise deserved. Jinnah was an ailing person and the men around him, a few exceptions apart, were men of straw. Where we should have lost no time in drawing up a constitution we wasted time in theological debates, one outcome of which was the Objectives Resolution.
Where we should have abolished feudalism and distributed Hindu property equitably, we allowed feudalism to retain its stranglehold in West Pakistan (East Pakistan being different) and distributed evacuee property on the basis of self-filed claims, opening the door to widespread graft and forgery.
The dominance of the bureaucracy over state affairs was no accident. The calibre of the Muslim League leadership almost invited bureaucratic meddling and interference. The higher bureaucracy being deeply conservative in nature, its growing influence meant a predisposition towards a policy of dependence upon the West. Our status as the United States’ most allied ally and our membership of the anti-Communist alliance were thus foreordained.
Our geographic location or, as we are wont to say, our strategic location, at the crossroads of history and the march of empires, should have given us confidence and strengthened a spirit of independence. In our case it gave rise to a sepoy mentality: a willingness to serve foreign interests at minimum wages. Before independence our so-called martial races served most loyally the British Empire. After independence our army has felt little qualms in serving American interests under one guise or the other.
So many things have changed over the years but this aspect of our national policy remains fixed in stone. We concluded our first military agreement with the US in 1951. Sixty odd years later we remain locked in America’s military embrace, fighting a war whose direction and purpose are defined by the US.
In India it was the quality of the leadership thrown up by the independence movement, which ensured civilian dominance over the military. In Pakistan it was the sub-standard quality of the political leadership, which ensured the military’s dominance over decision-making. Given the material at hand, no other outcome was possible.
Pakistan also suffers from another disability: the overweening influence of Punjab in all matters great and small. Punjab’s has been the dominant hand and, more importantly, the dominant thinking in shaping Pakistan. East Pakistan was pushed towards separatism because Punjab could not accommodate East Pakistani aspirations. Punjabi judges, acting in concert with Gen Zia (as his willing accomplices), hanged Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto. When Pakistan’s accounts before the final judgment seat are drawn up, Punjabi generals, mandarins and senior judges will have much to answer for.
The ideology of Pakistan is largely a Punjabi artefact. Pakistan as fortress-of-Islam is also, for the most part, a Punjabi concept. Islamabad as Pakistan’s capital is a Punjab idea. For much of Pakistan’s history the Punjabi elites and the army high command have marched to the same tune.
No wonder, Pakistan’s affairs are in such a mess. Through an accident of history Punjab is propelled into a position of leadership and it makes a mess of the whole thing.
Punjab and the army are synonymous. Punjab and the ISI are synonymous. Punjab and the threat from India are synonymous. The ideological state dedicated to a very primitive notion of national security—underpinned by huge outlays on defence—which we have created, is a Punjabi invention. The remaking of Pakistan has to begin with dismantling the national security state. Otherwise the sepoy mentality will remain alive and our begging bowl will not break.
The Delhi Sultanate, beginning with Qutbuddin Aibak and ending with Sultan Ibrahim Lodhi, and the Mughal Empire, from Babar onwards, were not fortresses of Islam. They were secular enterprises resting upon a superiority of arms and a vision of government in which the highest posts were occupied by the Muslim aristocracy but which, lower down the rung, allowed room for votaries of other faiths. This was out of necessity because such a vast kingdom could not be administered on sectarian or exclusivist lines.
The greatest Muslim kings and emperors of India were those who were the least bigoted. The worst were champions of fanaticism such as Aurangzeb. The Mughal Empire’s tragedy was Aurangzeb’s victory in the war of succession, which broke out during the lifetime of the Emperor Shahjehan. For the future of the empire Dara Shikoh, genial and tolerant, would have been a far better choice.
Pakistan’s problem is the blinkers on the eyes of its governing classes. There has to be a liberation of the mind, a cultural revolution, before Pakistan can emerge from the shadows into the light. And before it can leave the sorrows of the past behind.
Ayaz Amir is a distinguished Pakistani commentator and Member of National Assembly (parliament). For comments, write to opinion@khaleejtimes.com
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Too Funny for Words By PETER FUNT
WHEN my dad, Allen Funt, produced “Candid Microphone” back in the mid-1940s, he used a clever ruse to titillate listeners. A few times per show he’d edit out an innocent word or phrase and replace it with a recording of a sultry woman’s voice saying, “Censored.” Audiences always laughed at the thought that something dirty had been said, even though it hadn’t.
When “Candid Camera” came to television, the female voice was replaced by a bleep and a graphic that flashed “Censored!” As my father and I learned over decades of production, ordinary folks don’t really curse much in routine conversation — even when mildly agitated — but audiences love to think otherwise.
By the mid-1950s, TV’s standards and practices people decided Dad’s gimmick was an unacceptable deception. There would be no further censoring of clean words.
I thought about all this when CBS started broadcasting a show last week titled “$#*! My Dad Says,” which the network insists with a wink should be pronounced “Bleep My Dad Says.” There is, of course, no mystery whatsoever about what the $-word stands for, because the show is based on a highly popular Twitter feed, using the real word, in which a clever guy named Justin Halpern quotes the humorous, often foul utterances of his father, Sam.
Bleeping is broadcasting’s biggest deal. Even on basic cable, the new generation of “reality” shows like “Jersey Shore” bleep like crazy, as do infotainment series like “The Daily Show With Jon Stewart,” where scripted curses take on an anti-establishment edge when bleeped in a contrived bit of post-production. This season there is even a cable series about relationships titled “Who the (Bleep) Did I Marry?” — in which “bleep” isn’t subbing for any word in particular. The comedian Drew Carey is developing a series that CBS has decided to call “WTF!” Still winking, the network says this one stands for “Wow That’s Funny!”
Although mainstream broadcasters won a battle against censorship over the summer when a federal appeals court struck down some elements of the Federal Communications Commission’s restrictions on objectionable language, they’ve always been more driven by self-censorship than by the government-mandated kind. Eager to help are advertisers and watchdog groups, each appearing to take a tough stand on language while actually reveling in the double entendre.
For example, my father and I didn’t run across many dirty words when recording everyday conversation, but we did find that people use the terms “God” and “Jesus” frequently — often in a gentle context, like “Oh, my God” — and this, it turned out, worried broadcasting executives even more than swearing. If someone said “Jesus” in a “Candid Camera” scene, CBS made us bleep it, leaving viewers to assume that a truly foul word had been spoken. And that seemed fine with CBS, because what mainstream TV likes best is the perception of naughtiness.
TV’s often-hypocritical approach to censorship was given its grandest showcase back in 1972, when the comedian George Carlin first took note of “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television.” The bit was recreated on stage at the Kennedy Center a few years ago in a posthumous tribute to Carlin, but all the words were bleeped — not only for the PBS audience but for the theatergoers as well.
Many who saw the show believed the bleeped version played funnier. After all, when Bill Maher and his guests unleash a stream of nasty words on HBO, it’s little more than barroom banter. But when Jon Stewart says the same words, knowing they’ll be bleeped, it revs up the crowd while also seeming to challenge the censors.
In its July ruling, the appeals court concluded, “By prohibiting all ‘patently offensive’ references to sex ... without giving adequate guidance as to what ‘patently offensive’ means, the F.C.C. effectively chills speech, because broadcasters have no way of knowing what the F.C.C. will find offensive.” That’s quite reasonable — and totally beside the point. Most producers understand that when it comes to language, the sizzle has far more appeal than the steak. Broadcasters keep jousting with the F.C.C. begging not to be thrown in the briar patch of censorship, because that’s really where they most want to be.
Jimmy Kimmel has come up with a segment for his late-night ABC program called “This Week in Unnecessary Censorship.” He bleeps ordinary words in clips to make them seem obscene. How bleepin’ dare he! Censorship, it seems, remains one of the most entertaining things on television.
Peter Funt writes about social issues on his Web site, Candid Camera.
When “Candid Camera” came to television, the female voice was replaced by a bleep and a graphic that flashed “Censored!” As my father and I learned over decades of production, ordinary folks don’t really curse much in routine conversation — even when mildly agitated — but audiences love to think otherwise.
By the mid-1950s, TV’s standards and practices people decided Dad’s gimmick was an unacceptable deception. There would be no further censoring of clean words.
I thought about all this when CBS started broadcasting a show last week titled “$#*! My Dad Says,” which the network insists with a wink should be pronounced “Bleep My Dad Says.” There is, of course, no mystery whatsoever about what the $-word stands for, because the show is based on a highly popular Twitter feed, using the real word, in which a clever guy named Justin Halpern quotes the humorous, often foul utterances of his father, Sam.
Bleeping is broadcasting’s biggest deal. Even on basic cable, the new generation of “reality” shows like “Jersey Shore” bleep like crazy, as do infotainment series like “The Daily Show With Jon Stewart,” where scripted curses take on an anti-establishment edge when bleeped in a contrived bit of post-production. This season there is even a cable series about relationships titled “Who the (Bleep) Did I Marry?” — in which “bleep” isn’t subbing for any word in particular. The comedian Drew Carey is developing a series that CBS has decided to call “WTF!” Still winking, the network says this one stands for “Wow That’s Funny!”
Although mainstream broadcasters won a battle against censorship over the summer when a federal appeals court struck down some elements of the Federal Communications Commission’s restrictions on objectionable language, they’ve always been more driven by self-censorship than by the government-mandated kind. Eager to help are advertisers and watchdog groups, each appearing to take a tough stand on language while actually reveling in the double entendre.
For example, my father and I didn’t run across many dirty words when recording everyday conversation, but we did find that people use the terms “God” and “Jesus” frequently — often in a gentle context, like “Oh, my God” — and this, it turned out, worried broadcasting executives even more than swearing. If someone said “Jesus” in a “Candid Camera” scene, CBS made us bleep it, leaving viewers to assume that a truly foul word had been spoken. And that seemed fine with CBS, because what mainstream TV likes best is the perception of naughtiness.
TV’s often-hypocritical approach to censorship was given its grandest showcase back in 1972, when the comedian George Carlin first took note of “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television.” The bit was recreated on stage at the Kennedy Center a few years ago in a posthumous tribute to Carlin, but all the words were bleeped — not only for the PBS audience but for the theatergoers as well.
Many who saw the show believed the bleeped version played funnier. After all, when Bill Maher and his guests unleash a stream of nasty words on HBO, it’s little more than barroom banter. But when Jon Stewart says the same words, knowing they’ll be bleeped, it revs up the crowd while also seeming to challenge the censors.
In its July ruling, the appeals court concluded, “By prohibiting all ‘patently offensive’ references to sex ... without giving adequate guidance as to what ‘patently offensive’ means, the F.C.C. effectively chills speech, because broadcasters have no way of knowing what the F.C.C. will find offensive.” That’s quite reasonable — and totally beside the point. Most producers understand that when it comes to language, the sizzle has far more appeal than the steak. Broadcasters keep jousting with the F.C.C. begging not to be thrown in the briar patch of censorship, because that’s really where they most want to be.
Jimmy Kimmel has come up with a segment for his late-night ABC program called “This Week in Unnecessary Censorship.” He bleeps ordinary words in clips to make them seem obscene. How bleepin’ dare he! Censorship, it seems, remains one of the most entertaining things on television.
Peter Funt writes about social issues on his Web site, Candid Camera.
Musharraf on the comeback trail By Irfan Husain
They say old soldiers never die; they just fade away. This is certainly not true of Pervez Musharraf. This ageing warrior just refuses to slip quietly into graceful retirement, clearly preferring the limelight to the joys of playing with his grandchildren, and doing a bit of light gardening.
As if earning a fair bit of money on the lecture circuit to supplement his army pension wasn’t enough, he will have announced the launch of his political party, the All Pakistan Muslim League (APML), by the time you read this. Clearly, he feels there are not enough variations on the Muslim League theme already in existence.
Listening to him in the Intelligence Squared talk at the Kensington Town Hall in London the other night, I was struck by his apparent popularity among educated Brits. While there were many Pakistani-British citizens in the audience, there were a surprising number of locals in the large hall, and at £20 per ticket, Musharraf must have been pleased at the take.
Probably the most disappointing aspect of the event was the series of fluffy questions put to the former Pakistani general by the interviewer, Christopher Meyer. The British ex-diplomat was obsequious to the point of servility. Even when Musharraf was obviously stretching the truth, Meyer refused to pin him down. In encouraging Musharraf to perpetuate the myth of the necessity of military intervention, Meyer displayed his own ignorance, as well as his contempt for democratic principles.
In his lengthy replies to the cringe-making questions, Musharraf not only justified his own coup, but seemed to signal encouragement for his successor to put pressure on this government. As he said, army commanders were forced to intervene because “people kept urging us to do something to save Pakistan”.
Obviously, he was referring to out-of-power politicians who have so often served as cheerleaders to dictators. The follow-up question Meyer ought to have asked is why should army generals encourage such opportunists to come to them in the first place.
In the question-and-answer session, I asked Musharraf about the UN report on Benazir Bhutto’s assassination. The commission had clearly identified gaping security flaws, and strongly accused the Musharraf government of neglecting the most basic safeguards despite the dangers posed to the ex-prime minister. Her security arrangements were far less stringent than the measures provided for him.
My question and Musharraf’s waffling response have been reported in the Guardian which quotes him repeating the old line that she was killed because she stood up in her vehicle. He said nothing about why the crowd was allowed to approach her car in the first place, and nor why the spot was hosed down immediately to prevent a forensic examination of the crime scene. As we were not permitted any follow-up questions, Musharraf was allowed to get away with his untruthful version.
Musharraf’s half-baked effort to return to power by forming his own political party has relevance only in the light of certain recent events and statements. First, Altaf Hussain’s bizarre exhortation to “patriotic generals to take martial law-like steps” to intervene. Next, the New York Times has reported on the recent meeting between the army chief, the prime minister and the president, suggesting strongly that the message given by Kayani to his nominal political masters is that they had better get their act together.
These are not isolated reports. Pakistani TV channels have been full of highly speculative stories and comments about imminent changes. Against this background of spin and character assassination, the formation of the APML takes on some significance. Should mid-term elections be called, the MQM will almost certainly jump on board Musharraf’s bandwagon, as will all the Muslim League factions not in Nawaz Sharif’s camp. And once the independents, opportunistic lotas and Islamic parties see which way the wind is blowing, they too will cast their lot with Musharraf. Waverers will no doubt be persuaded to sign up by our politically astute intelligence agencies.
In this scenario, a new dispensation that can form a government without either the PPP or the PML-N will emerge with the tacit support of the army and the Americans. Both these elements are clearly fed up with this government, but are reluctant to see yet another round of martial law.
For the Americans, a strong, stable government is required if they are to succeed in implementing a workable exit strategy from Afghanistan. Our army is bogged down in a difficult campaign against the extremists, and must coordinate the endgame in Afghanistan with Washington. The last thing it needs presently is the distraction of having to run the government. Our generals have all the powers and the independence they require without the flak and the hassle of having to stage a coup.
Both the major political parties have only themselves to blame for the mess we are in. By refusing to cooperate, they risk being out in the cold yet again, just as they were during Musharraf’s nine years in power. I can see that Nawaz Sharif has little to gain by supporting this government. Clearly, his calculation is that by the time it finishes its term, the PPP will be so discredited that it will be a spent political force for the foreseeable future.
Had the situation been normal, this would have been a perfectly sensible political decision. However, in Pakistan, we hardly ever have the luxury of normality. Although Asif Zardari appears to have signalled his refusal to leave quietly, pressure seems to be building up for quasi-constitutional change. Once this happens, and the powerful establishment swings into action, any mid-term elections will not reflect the popular will. Charges of rigging will be largely ignored, and hey, presto! Musharraf will be back in the saddle.
As opinion polls indicate, this government has done little to endear itself to us, so few tears will be shed over its demise. One way of saving the system is for Nawaz Sharif to accept the PPP’s long-standing offer to enter into a coalition with it. This would send out a powerful signal to all those who seek to hijack power. Indeed, a strong coalition might also improve governance.
Both parties have a vested interest in blocking the ongoing moves to sideline them, and in a rational world, they would join hands to save democracy. But as we know to our cost, common sense is a most uncommon commodity in Pakistan.
irfanhusain@gmail.com
As if earning a fair bit of money on the lecture circuit to supplement his army pension wasn’t enough, he will have announced the launch of his political party, the All Pakistan Muslim League (APML), by the time you read this. Clearly, he feels there are not enough variations on the Muslim League theme already in existence.
Listening to him in the Intelligence Squared talk at the Kensington Town Hall in London the other night, I was struck by his apparent popularity among educated Brits. While there were many Pakistani-British citizens in the audience, there were a surprising number of locals in the large hall, and at £20 per ticket, Musharraf must have been pleased at the take.
Probably the most disappointing aspect of the event was the series of fluffy questions put to the former Pakistani general by the interviewer, Christopher Meyer. The British ex-diplomat was obsequious to the point of servility. Even when Musharraf was obviously stretching the truth, Meyer refused to pin him down. In encouraging Musharraf to perpetuate the myth of the necessity of military intervention, Meyer displayed his own ignorance, as well as his contempt for democratic principles.
In his lengthy replies to the cringe-making questions, Musharraf not only justified his own coup, but seemed to signal encouragement for his successor to put pressure on this government. As he said, army commanders were forced to intervene because “people kept urging us to do something to save Pakistan”.
Obviously, he was referring to out-of-power politicians who have so often served as cheerleaders to dictators. The follow-up question Meyer ought to have asked is why should army generals encourage such opportunists to come to them in the first place.
In the question-and-answer session, I asked Musharraf about the UN report on Benazir Bhutto’s assassination. The commission had clearly identified gaping security flaws, and strongly accused the Musharraf government of neglecting the most basic safeguards despite the dangers posed to the ex-prime minister. Her security arrangements were far less stringent than the measures provided for him.
My question and Musharraf’s waffling response have been reported in the Guardian which quotes him repeating the old line that she was killed because she stood up in her vehicle. He said nothing about why the crowd was allowed to approach her car in the first place, and nor why the spot was hosed down immediately to prevent a forensic examination of the crime scene. As we were not permitted any follow-up questions, Musharraf was allowed to get away with his untruthful version.
Musharraf’s half-baked effort to return to power by forming his own political party has relevance only in the light of certain recent events and statements. First, Altaf Hussain’s bizarre exhortation to “patriotic generals to take martial law-like steps” to intervene. Next, the New York Times has reported on the recent meeting between the army chief, the prime minister and the president, suggesting strongly that the message given by Kayani to his nominal political masters is that they had better get their act together.
These are not isolated reports. Pakistani TV channels have been full of highly speculative stories and comments about imminent changes. Against this background of spin and character assassination, the formation of the APML takes on some significance. Should mid-term elections be called, the MQM will almost certainly jump on board Musharraf’s bandwagon, as will all the Muslim League factions not in Nawaz Sharif’s camp. And once the independents, opportunistic lotas and Islamic parties see which way the wind is blowing, they too will cast their lot with Musharraf. Waverers will no doubt be persuaded to sign up by our politically astute intelligence agencies.
In this scenario, a new dispensation that can form a government without either the PPP or the PML-N will emerge with the tacit support of the army and the Americans. Both these elements are clearly fed up with this government, but are reluctant to see yet another round of martial law.
For the Americans, a strong, stable government is required if they are to succeed in implementing a workable exit strategy from Afghanistan. Our army is bogged down in a difficult campaign against the extremists, and must coordinate the endgame in Afghanistan with Washington. The last thing it needs presently is the distraction of having to run the government. Our generals have all the powers and the independence they require without the flak and the hassle of having to stage a coup.
Both the major political parties have only themselves to blame for the mess we are in. By refusing to cooperate, they risk being out in the cold yet again, just as they were during Musharraf’s nine years in power. I can see that Nawaz Sharif has little to gain by supporting this government. Clearly, his calculation is that by the time it finishes its term, the PPP will be so discredited that it will be a spent political force for the foreseeable future.
Had the situation been normal, this would have been a perfectly sensible political decision. However, in Pakistan, we hardly ever have the luxury of normality. Although Asif Zardari appears to have signalled his refusal to leave quietly, pressure seems to be building up for quasi-constitutional change. Once this happens, and the powerful establishment swings into action, any mid-term elections will not reflect the popular will. Charges of rigging will be largely ignored, and hey, presto! Musharraf will be back in the saddle.
As opinion polls indicate, this government has done little to endear itself to us, so few tears will be shed over its demise. One way of saving the system is for Nawaz Sharif to accept the PPP’s long-standing offer to enter into a coalition with it. This would send out a powerful signal to all those who seek to hijack power. Indeed, a strong coalition might also improve governance.
Both parties have a vested interest in blocking the ongoing moves to sideline them, and in a rational world, they would join hands to save democracy. But as we know to our cost, common sense is a most uncommon commodity in Pakistan.
irfanhusain@gmail.com
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