For the past several weeks, Islamabad has been on edge. Not that it’s been all peace and love for much of Pakistan’s existence. The past few weeks, however, have been particularly manic — characterised by road and internet blockages, bans on rights outfits, skirmishes between law enforcers and protesters as government officials of one province marched on the federal capital, and the odd attempts by the federal government to put up a facade of normalcy amid visits by foreign dignitaries.
In the power corridors, the Maulana continues parleying with both sides of the House amidst Gandapur’s calls for a “revolution”. It has hence become of utmost importance to call for a day of reckoning. How did we get here? Who is to blame?
Well, for fairly obvious reasons, there is no single, edifying answer. However, matters aren’t as clouded as one might think. Take the recent proposed amendment, for example. Let’s leave out the perilously arcane “rumours” about the authors of this allegedly leaked draft — a tale for future historians to tell, hoping the Punjab Defamation Act, 2024, will not be a thing by then.
The gratuitous haste with which the government wants to proceed with voting on the bill is a testament to its betrayal as it reneges on a promise made almost two decades ago in “The Charter of Democracy,” signed by Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif — though, they claim they are realising precisely what they promised and hoped to do.
However, to reify the sentiment and promise that both leaders shook hands on would not involve having a legislature, discounted of legitimacy, amending the Constitution to change the very basic structure intrinsic to it — the independence of the judiciary. This would be nothing short of metamorphosing the current status quo into a certain type of suzerainty — one where the apex court becomes dependent on the executive, with its judges playing pawns for the prime minister who appoints them — perhaps even put up their annual confidential reports (ACRs) or dismiss them?
While it is true that a constitutional court may prove beneficial for the country (as many have already argued), it is crucial to work out the very functioning of such a court and answer some intrinsic questions. If the judges are to be appointed by the government, how is it that we expect them to stay apolitical? If the constitutional court would hear matters pertaining to the Constitution only, wouldn’t it further elongate the litigation for parties who, after exhausting all grounds, approach the constitutional court for redress on constitutional grounds? If the issue really is that we need to fast-track constitutional cases, wouldn’t it be better to just increase the number of current judges sitting at the Supreme Court, and have them hear only constitutional petitions?
The dirges are long and mournful, but here I shall confine myself and move on. Wish if only this had been the only recent stupidity.
On the political plane, the chaos is even more blatant. Even after the confirmation of the IMF’s bailout package, an impending economic crisis lurks just around the corner. It has been lost on the world how such plans for economic recovery — and more optimistically, growth — would alchemise in a political atmosphere that is enfeebling the government at its very base, creating a sense of flagrant distrust.
How is it that a chief minister, riding high on a saviour-for-all bandwagon and occupying the country’s political centre stage, is performing antics and giving out revolution calls? In the same breath, the federal government is busy with paeans for the beloved prime minister’s UN speech, while outrightly crushing protests 20 or so kilometres away from Islamabad.
Peaceful protest is a right the government must protect — especially in an atmosphere of heightened inflation, economic stress, and tension, the government has to give the masses space to digest, maybe even let out a few burps.
With respect to the CM going rogue, the government must act like a government — be patient and calculated, ready to listen, listen some more, and accommodate. Not to bode this government ill, or condone the cries of the acrimonious CM, but the fact of the matter is: it is high time saner minds occupy the political corridors, call for reconciliation, put aside self-serving interests, and rally together for the sake of Pakistan and its people.
It is hard to gauge why, but the government has an intractable track record of dismissing every issue, dissenter, or opposition at first sight. Which brings us to our next cry: Balochistan.
Take people like Dr Mahrang Baloch or Sami Deen Baloch, for instance. Where the state was supposed to engage in a meaningful discourse, especially after these women led a rally to Islamabad, they were met with an iron fist. After Dr Mahrang was featured on Time’s 100 Most Influential list, instead of celebrating a national hero, the government, as a matter of deliberate policy, stopped her from flying to the very event. Earlier, Sami Deen was also barred from flying to Brussels — owing to her name being on the Exit Control List.
Maybe it is time to take a different approach. A more strategic one — one that is not ephemeral in impact and serves the purpose right; one where we learn to engage with people like Dr Mahrang Baloch and Sami Deen Baloch; one where the files for missing persons leave the dusty racks where they have been for a long, long time; and where dissent is not viewed as something to be crushed but a healthy part of democratic discourse. Only then would the government be back on its moorings, ready to engage with larger issues.
A house on fire cannot help extinguish the neighbourhood even if it wanted to.
Dear politicians, our house is on fire.
Header image: Policemen fire tear gas shells towards PTI supporters and activists during a protest in Islamabad on October 4. — AFP/ File
