Tareekh Ka sabq by HAroon ur Rasheed
Showing posts with label Politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Politics. Show all posts
Friday, May 15, 2015
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Maafia k Hathon Yargmal Qom ki Kahani by Rauf Klasra
Maafia k Hathon Yargmal Qom ki Kahani by Rauf Klasra
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| Maafia k Hathon Yargmal Qom ki Kahani by Rauf Klasra |
Monday, January 6, 2014
Secular dictator or us k haleef By Orya Maqbool Jan
Enemies of joy - Ghazi Salahuddin
Enemies of joy
Ghazi Salahuddin
Again and again, there is this evidence that we are not able or allowed to live like normal, civilised individuals. Our rights as citizens of a free and democratic nation are usurped on a daily basis. But the spectacle that is staged by the authorities on New Year’s Eve in Karachi is diabolical in its manifestation of a certain mindset that borders on mental sickness.
One simply wonders: who are these people who design such vile stratagems, ostensibly in the name of law and order, to deny people an opportunity to have some entertainment and fun on an occasion that is universally celebrated? In fact, the idea seems to be to inflict pain and discomfort on a large scale. Do they see New Year as some kind of a social and cultural bereavement?
Now, it is true that what happened at the advent of 2014 in Karachi has become an annual affair. The citizens have learnt to live with this bothersome incongruity. All the measures that were taken were like an action replay. The drill has become a ritual. So, why should one be so angry about it? After all, the national sense of direction, marked by increasing intolerance and obscurantism, also serves as an incentive for such restrictions.
However, I feel that the absence of a serious debate on the state of our society is increasingly subverting the ability of the administration to deal with its challenges in a larger context. The focus on politics – and that too in a perfunctory and trivial manner –has prevented our decision makers from a proper understanding of how a modern society must function and how social capital should be generated to support intellectual and moral development.
Perhaps we do not have sufficient intellectual resources to deal effectively with the present crisis of Pakistan. Our institutes of higher education are woefully deficient in the sphere of social sciences and humanities. The intelligentsia that we have is small and peripheral in its impact on our collective thinking and social behaviour. In this environment, we are left to be amused by the wisdom of the likes of Shaikh Rashid and the other usual suspects who chew the cud on our news channels.
This is not to belittle the importance of major issues that relate to our national security and foreign policy. On the first day of 2014, we were reminded of the peril of sectarian terrorism. There are implications in how the case of treason against a former military ruler would proceed. We had this exciting twist in the tale when Pervez Musharraf left his farmhouse for the court and arrived at a military hospital.
As an aside, just consider the monumental problems that the state must confront to bring Pervez Musharraf from his residence to the court, in spite of the massive security apparatus that is at its disposal. Also imagine the cost that such arrangements entail. This is another parable for the loss of authority of the rulers of a nuclear country that also has one of the largest standing armies of the world. A social scientist, if the rulers would want to listen to one, may be able to explain the meaning of simultaneous increase in violent disorder as well as the presence of uniformed men on the streets.
Similarly, the scenes that were enacted in the vicinity of Seaview in Karachi on the last evening of the departing year could figure in a Powerpoint presentation on the quixotic plan that was devised by the security officials of the city. It would appear that they had unlimited resources in terms of men and material to control the movement of a section of the populace. It would not matter if people were not able to reach their homes or deal with emergency situations. Ah, this may even be an intentional tactic to punish a large number of them for wanting to have some fun and happiness at a time when the whole world was in a playful and joyous mood.
In some ways, the security arrangements violated the right of the people to live their lives. Even those who did not have any intention to join a party or the awami hullabaloo on the beach had to suffer. In a paradoxical sense, the officials succeeded in making New Year memorable for so many people. There must have been many stories to tell about that evening. Those who had an opportunity to watch the new year being celebrated in different countries, with fireworks and jubilant crowds in numerous freezing climes, could think that we live in a country in which having fun is a crime.
Of course, security concerns were said to be at the heart of these arrangements. On the face of it, this is a valid reason. But the protectors of law and order, who themselves live in a security bubble, did not perhaps have the wisdom or the imagination to be able to create safe spaces in which ordinary people could have a communal experience of a celebration. That many can be rowdy or riotous on such occasions is also because they have not been properly socialised and provided the right means to express their feelings.
It is easier to block main roads, close down eating places and stop people from gathering at one place than to improve the security situation through innovative means. We may also refer to the ongoing operation in Karachi. Was it not the failure of our security agencies to arrest the decline and fall of law and order in the first place?
My point, essentially, is to underline the importance of collective activities to infuse light and joy in ordinary lives. This would be possible when rule of law is established. At one level, our rulers’ constant appeasement of the fanatics is the real tragedy. The manner in which Lahore has been robbed of its Basant is a reflection of the failure of our nation to move forward in a cultural context.
It is pointless to argue that celebrating New Year is not our culture, though this argument would not be valid in the case of Basant. I refer to New Year only in a generic sense. What is important is to allow people whatever justification they may have to enrich their lives and pursue happiness through legitimate means. Living with so much distress and anxiety, our people do deserve some moments of joy. And a glint of hope with which New Year is universally identified.
Email: ghazi_salahuddin@hotmail. com
The mystery of Raiwind palace ownership
The mystery of Raiwind palace ownership
By: and
ISLAMABAD: The ownership of the Raiwind palace spread over thousands of acres is a mystery because it has never been mentioned in the statements of assets and liabilities of Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif and other members of his family in politics.
Even latest declarations submitted by Nawaz Sharif, his brother Shahbaz Sharif, son-in-law Captain Mohammad Safdar and nephew Hamza Shahbaz to the Election Commission of Pakistan are silent on the ownership title of the huge property.
But Information Minister Pervez Rasheed told Dawn that the property was in the name of Shamim Sharif, mother of the Sharif brothers.
The statements of assets show that the Sharif brothers have much in common. Both live in houses not owned by them. Nawaz Sharif lives in a house owned by his mother while Shahbaz Sharif resides in a house owned by his spouse Nusrat.
Both use Land Cruisers gifted to them by unspecified persons. Both have multiple foreign and local currency accounts, own huge agricultural land and have investments in industrial units like sugar, textile and paper mills.
The most visible dissimilarity is the rapid growth in the value of assets owned by the elder brother and continuous decline in the value of assets possessed by the younger brother. Another dissimilarity is that Shahbaz Sharif has two properties in the United Kingdom, but Nawaz Sharif has no assets abroad.
Till the time of elections in May last year, Shahbaz was richer than Nawaz — though none of them a billionaire — but things are different now. According to the recent declaration, the value of Nawaz Sharif’s wealth has registered a six-fold increase in just 12 months to make him a billionaire for the first time.
According to statements of assets and liabilities, the net worth of Nawaz Sharif’s assets was Rs261.6 million in 2012 and of Shahbaz Sharif Rs336.9m.
In 2011, the assets of the two brothers were worth Rs166m and Rs393m, indicating an increase of Rs95.6m and decrease of Rs56.5m, respectively.
In 2013, the value of assets of Nawaz Sharif ballooned to Rs1.82bn while that of Shahbaz Sharif slipped further to Rs142m.
Incidentally, Shahbaz Sharif has more stakes abroad than in the country. He owns properties and bank account worth Rs138.28m in the UK. He has three loans worth 117.10m in Pakistani rupees in British banks.
The younger brother has not disclosed the value of five
properties with net area of around 676 kanal in Lahore – all gifted by his mother.
He has Rs51.96m cash in hand and Rs7.27m in his sole bank account in the country.
Mrs Nusrat, the first wife of Mr Shahbaz, had assets worth Rs273.46m on June 30 last year. It was Rs224.56m a year earlier. She has Rs14.34m cash in hand and Rs1.95m in her five bank accounts.
The assets of Mrs Tehmina, the second wife of Shahbaz Sharif, are worth Rs9.83m. They were Rs7.64m last year.
She has five bank accounts – two in Pound Sterling, one in dollar and two in Pak rupees, but the money in these accounts is only Rs23,770. She has cash in hand and prize bonds worth Rs750,000 and two cars.
Kalsoom Nawaz, the wife of Nawaz Sharif, has net wealth of Rs235.85m, which is much less than that of Mrs Nusrat Shahbaz.
Mrs Kalsoom has land and a house in Changa Gali, Abbottabad, worth Rs63.75m, a bungalow on Mall Road in Murree worth Rs100m, 88 kanal of land in Sheikhupura worth Rs70m, jewellery of Rs1.5m and shares in family businesses.
She has Rs67,555 cash in hand and Rs55,765 in banks.
Hamza Shahbaz is wealthier than his father with net assets of Rs250.46m. He has two wives. The wealth of his first wife is Rs2.45m and that of the second is Rs9.88m.
Capt Safdar’s wealth is worth Rs14.23m. He owns a car which his wife Marium received as a gift from the UAE.
Published On : www.dawn.com
A trial like no other - CYRIL ALMEIDA
A trial like no other
CYRIL ALMEIDA
CYRIL ALMEIDA
CONVICT him. Lock him up in a cell and throw away the key. Let him get his comeuppance. Deterrence, justice, revenge — maybe it’s one, maybe it’s another, maybe it’s all three. Either way, the crime fits the man.
Or let him go. Everyone was on board in ’99. After ’07, he was gone in less than a year. It was, originally, a political crime — and the polity was his accomplice. Then, the polity moved on and that was that.
Musharraf. What are folk trying to get him for: seizing power or what he did with the power he seized?
The good thing about systems, the anti-coup democrats will argue, is that outcomes aren’t necessarily shaped by motives. Putting Musharraf on trial for the wrong reasons can still lead to the right outcome: less army influence, more civilian control.
The bad thing about systems, the realists will argue, is that outcomes aren’t necessarily shaped by motives. Putting Musharraf on trial for the right reasons can still lead to the wrong outcome: more civilian arrogance, more army antsiness.
But, first, we need to understand the system. And before that, because people populate the system, we need to understand the players.
There’s only one person who will make the decision whether Musharraf will be tried or not: Nawaz. And if anyone thinks he knows what Nawaz is thinking, he’s kidding himself. Like, really. The already notoriously closed-up has taken on a Sphinx-like air of mystery this time round.
Somewhere inside Nawaz is a decision-making centre that combines the personal with the visceral and a folksy understanding of systems. When you throw the Musharraf-trial complexities and angles and doubts and intentions into that decision-making centre, what will prevail in the end is anyone’s guess.
So expect to see Musharraf smoking a cigar in London soon or expect to see him on trial. Be surprised by neither.
But back to the system — because not knowing what Nawaz will decide doesn’t mean we can’t figure out what’s at stake.
Whether Musharraf is tried or not, the democratic project will continue. Nobody really thinks that a Musharraf trial would prompt Gen Sharif to oust PM Sharif.
Whether Musharraf is tried or not will though affect civil-military relations. If you can try a general — and not just any general, but one of the Club of Four — things change; power flows towards you some and away from the generals.
But there’s a third corner to this triangle, the one few ever focus on: the people.
It’s not just civil vs military or civ-mil imbalance; it’s civil and military seeking legitimacy and power from the people to control the state.
That contest is often cast as one rooted in results: when the civilians fail to deliver, intervention by the generals is accepted; when the generals end up covered in much of the same mud, a return to civilian options is embraced.
But the army gets away with it for a different reason (in addition to the fact that they have guns and are organised and are manipulative): an old, accepted and internalised tradition of a two-tiered governance system. Old enough to have its own entry in Encyclopaedia Britannica and its own name: dyarchy.
Essentially, running the state is divided into two halves: the authoritarian and the popularly responsible. It starts with weak institutions. Because they are weak, the pols are handed the softer stuff — education, health, jobs, small infrastructure — while the big boys keep a watchful gaze over the big-ticket items — security, revenue for state continuity, foreign policy.
Matters stumble along for a while. Then, when the pols inevitably stutter because institutions are weak and their own capacities limited, the big boys intervene, stepping in with their benign authoritarianism and smoothing things over.
But here’s the thing with dyarchy: it is not supposed to fundamentally fix things or transform realities. It is about stop-gap and backstop. It is about a system in which mediocre is considered safer than aiming for more. It is about saving from rather than aspiring to.
And it’s bloody hard to dislodge from the minds of everyone: the army, which believes in its benign-authoritarian mission as defender of the last resort; the pols, who deep down aren’t really convinced of their ability to fix stuff; and the people, who want better but will settle for OK.
Now plug a Musharraf trial into that system.
He deserves to be tried, he should be tried and it would be great to see him tried — for ’99. Even then, if ’07 is all the system can muster up the courage to try him for, it’s a compromise worth taking. Remember, the alternative is no trial, which the other three in the Club of Four got.
But from trial to no coup or more coup would be a stretch. For the system is dyarchy and the system is accepted. Benign authoritarianism by the army and about-par competence by the pols.
Turning that around, changing the system, would require first understanding what it is rooted in. Results matter, yes, but so do perceptions. Of the people.
Hand on their heart, most folk today would accept that the civilians are legitimate rulers and dictatorships a bad idea. But would they flat out reject the possibility of accepting another coup ever, no matter what the mitigating circumstances or justifications?
That’s modern-day dyarchy. And getting Musharraf will be a helluva lot easier than ever switching that around.
cyril.a@gmail.com
Twitter: @cyalm
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Cockroach k Akhri Alfaz - Isar Rana
Published on : jang.com.pk
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Dr Adil Najam - The banality of outrage
The slim volume – and most importantly the concept embodied in its subtitle – went on to become a seminal philosophical artefact of our times. The book was much debated by political theorists, Holocaust historians, and activists; particularly in the context of the substance of the Eichmann trial. However, the central – and harrowing – insight that the term ‘banality of evil’ sheds into the nature of evil, and of its perpetrators, resonates well beyond that context. Including, maybe especially, today’s Pakistan.
Those who have ever wondered how a seemingly ‘ordinary’ person could possibly undertake deeds of unspeakable horror – and how equally ‘normal’ people can claim to rationalise, if not defend, the mind-numbing senselessness of the patently evil – would do well to read Arendt’s treatise. In choosing the word ‘banal’ she is not suggesting that the deeds were in any way ‘commonplace’ or ‘trivial.’ She is arguing, instead, that the evil of Eichmann’s actions – as a top administrator in the Nazi death camps – was made even more terrible because he had trained himself to see them as no more than the merely routine. “The lesson that this long course in human wickedness has taught us”, Hannah Arendt points out, is “the lesson of the fearsome, word-and-thought-defying banality of evil.”
Arendt saw a certain “ludicrousness” in Eichmann standing in the dock. She reports that “the deeds were monstrous, but the doer … neither demonic nor monstrous.” As he ranted in his defence, she found him “neither perverted nor sadistic” and without “any diabolical or demonic profundity.” Indeed, her most chilling realisation was that he was “terribly and terrifyingly normal.” Characterised by, more than any other thing, his own “sheer thoughtlessness.”
That is the essence of the banality of evil. The idea that great evil can be perpetuated not only by fanatical sociopaths but also by ordinary people who so conform to a corrupt premise that they view their actions as entirely ordinary, entirely defensible, even sensible. Banality is terrifying precisely because it emanates from the inability to recognise, acknowledge and confront evil for what it is.
All of this is eerily relevant to today’s Pakistan. The church massacre in Peshawar is only the latest reminder in a string of reminders that evil lives in our midst. But also, and maybe even more excruciating, is the realisation of a certain banality that is most evident in the discourse that sprouts as routinely and as predictably as the evil itself.
Bombings. Killings. Bloodshed. All have become routine. And routinised. Commonplace. Banal. Or, as Hannah Arendt may have put it, “terribly and terrifyingly normal.”
Out of desperation more than analysis, we often call these acts, “thoughtless.” And in more profound ways than we may imagine, that is exactly what they are: devoid of – starved of – critical thought. The banality is as self-evident in the discourse of those who commit this evil, as it is in the lamentations of those who purport to understand its context. And the realisation that other ‘ordinary’ people – in many ways as ‘ordinary’ as ourselves – will not see the injustice that is so very obvious to us pierces the heart as much as the injustice itself.
The only recourse one has, then, is grief. And, outrage.
In Pakistan, the predictability of senseless acts of violence is matched only by the predictability of outrage. It is a lie that we remain silent. As big a lie as the one about Muslims never speaking out about atrocities by other Muslims. Maybe it was once true, but it has not been true for a long time now. Because we have had so many unfortunate opportunities, we have perfected our rituals of outrage: editorials, TV talk shows, social media, political condemnations.
But outrage in a divided society is also divided. We are all outraged by these events, but very differently outraged. We do not rush to embrace and comfort each other in our times of tribulation. We scream out in pain. Mostly, we scream at each other. We point fingers. We score points. We jab partisan barbs. Nearly always we get into verbal bouts. Sometimes, into fist-fights. Our outrage has become cliché-ridden. As predictable, as commonplace, as those acts of violence themselves. There is, to coin a phrase, a certain banality in our outrage.
To suggest that there is a banality of outrage is not to suggest that it is not sincere. Far from it. Our hurt is real each time we are hit. Our tears are real. The hurt does not lessen over time. The tears never stop streaming. The trail of tragedy is too long to recount, but this is not a pain you get used to.
Our banality of outrage emanates from the futility of outrage. Hannah Arendt would have been the first to recognise that outrage has political potence. Ours does not.
The banality of our outrage emanates not just from the fact that it has become predictable and commonplace. Our outrage is banal, because it is politically impotent. It does not lead to action – neither political, nor societal. This impotence of outrage makes us more enraged, but it does not make our outrage any more effective. Hence, the banality of outrage.
This banality of outrage also has its farcical moments. Well-meaning, but farcical nonetheless. One such ritual is the all-too-predictable discussion on ‘whodunit’ that triggers off as soon as a bomb goes off. We become voyeuristically glued to any signs of rumour or news on who will take responsibility for that terrorist attack. As if we do not know? As if knowing the answer would make a difference in our view of whoever takes responsibility? As if we are ever able to bring those who do claim responsibility to justice?
In a functional polity, tragedy leads to outrage, outrage leads to introspection, introspection to action. In our case, the tragedies come so fast and furious and the very fabric of society is so tattered that there is no time for introspection and no political stomach for action. Our outrage, therefore, is catharsis at best; venomous vomiting at worst.
If we sound cynical, there is much reason to be so. If we lunge at each other’s throats, it is because we are a divided society. If we sound exhausted in our grief, it is because we are. But most of all, our outrage seems banal because we do not believe that outrage will lead to action, let alone change. Indeed, there seems to be a pervasive certainty that it will not. That, more than all else, explains our banality of outrage.
But our outrage need not necessarily be banal.
Hannah Ardent’s answer to the problems posed by the banality of evil was ‘thoughtfulness’. Not just thinking, but critical thinking. She suggested that there is “a strange interdependence between thoughtlessness and evil” and wondered if “the activity of thinking as such… could ‘condition’ men against evildoing.” She was referring, I would like to believe, to education in the truest and deepest sense as the answer to the problem of ‘evil’.
If, indeed, our banality of outrage is real, its answer lies in action. Outrage is wasted if it does not lead to action. Maybe a dose of ‘thoughtfulness’ will also help in structuring our own outrage. The belief that nothing will happen needs to give way to the resolve that something must. The way ahead in linking action and words in outrage is pointed, again, by Hannah Arendt in her other book The Human Condition: “Of all the activities necessary and present in human communities, only two were deemed to be political and to constitute what Aristotle called the bios politikos, names action (praxis) and speech (lexis), out of which rises the realm of human affairs.” Lexis without praxis, is a recipe for the banality of outrage.
The writer has taught international relations and diplomacy at Boston University and at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy and was the vice chancellor of LUMS. Twitter: @adilnajam
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Dispossession, orthodoxy and Indo-centrism - Harris Khalique
No one who believes in a modicum of humaneness will say that the use of full force by the state should be the first option before other peaceful methods are tried and exhausted. However, there is neither a timeline given, nor conditions spelled out nor a process explained through which the objectives set forth for the government will be achieved.
Assume that – with or without the use of force – the state of Pakistan succeeds in either taming or making peace with the Taliban in the coming months. They have to be ready for some give and take, though, and one sincerely hopes that a Swat-like situation does not arise after an accord is reached.
One other thing that needs to be considered is that those citizens in areas under Taliban influence who do not carry arms and resist the writ of the state are not further marginalised through this process. When the government talks about taking all stakeholders into confidence, the category should also include those who are nonviolent but may have grievances against state institutions as well as the militants.
The larger question, however, remains: will terrorism of all kinds be eliminated after peace is achieved in this instance? The unfortunate answer is ‘no’. Any focused process of dialogue or use of force can eliminate or mainstream a particular kind of militants but the possibility of the use of terror against the state and its citizens in future will not be eliminated until the sources are correctly identified, isolated and dried up.
This is the real challenge for the elite-dominated state of Pakistan. Acute economic and social dispossession of all kinds, orthodoxy harnessed and promoted among people in the name of faith and Indo-centric internal and external policy options exercised by the state will continue to breed different forms of terrorism in the country. Let us take these one by one.
A country where almost half of the children who are of school-going age are out of school, where maternal mortality claims 75 young women daily, where a third of the population finds it hard to scrape together two square meals a day, where workers live like serfs and the lower middle-class lives in the most undignified of conditions, where only a fifth of the entire population has access to clean drinking water, where the uneducated and unemployed youth are in millions, where farming communities along the rivers and canals get inundated by floods and then remain in camps for times unending, where inhuman debt traps the poor and turns them into bonded labour, where the sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters of a janitor have little choice but to remain janitors – in such a country will there be no chaos in society, no crime, no disgruntlement with the state?
Crime will be rampant, it will then become organised, this organised crime will turn into mafias and the mafias will then create terror on a massive scale. This is not just a future scenario. Instigated by urban poverty and increased inequality, it has already started happening in Karachi on a large scale. Other cities find higher crime rates than ever before. In terms of politics, Pakistan’s unique socio-political conditions have not let something like the Indian class-based Naxalite movement begin here.
But can we dismiss the possibility of a violent movement along class lines in the future? A violent movement of the marginalised and disadvantaged can also articulate itself in religious or ethnic terms. Anyone who understands the Balochistan issue will agree that it is primarily the economic deprivation and inability to access their own resources that have led to a struggle against the state.
It is time for the powers that be and the classes associated with them to not just think about but also do something to get people out of this grinding economic and social dispossession. However, that would mean giving up the undeserved privileges they enjoy, redistribution of wealth and creating equal opportunities for all.
The other factor, no less important, is a certain kind of religious discourse that the state has either promoted or allowed to take root in Pakistan. From state actions to school curriculum to promotion of political and social religious movements to public messages relayed through media, all strata of the middle class, women and men, are nurtured and encouraged to develop a mindset that is exclusive, paranoid and conservative in nature. There is more hypocrisy than religiosity at the level of the elite and clerics who benefit from such mindset. However, for many ordinary people it becomes a genuinely emotional issue.
In a country, where more than 95 percent of the people practice the same faith, how can their faith ever be in danger? What makes the majority feel insecure because of a small number of non-Muslims who mostly belong to the working class anyway? Why is it only the body of a woman where religion has to be imposed in full? While we may wonder whether it is personal beliefs or social values that make people go out and kill, the fact is that Pakistan has become an intolerant religious society.
When those listening to the oath of the president of the republic find that it is more about his religious beliefs that the state is interested in and less about his ability to competently run the office, their loyalty will rest more with an abstract notion of an Islamic state rather than the interests of a real country in which they live. If the ideal theocratic state that is promised to them – and which will resolve all their issues overnight – is nowhere to be seen, they will take up arms to create such a state and wage a struggle whenever conditions permit.
Lastly, unless our state stops thinking of itself as non-India and widens its understanding of global issues, there will be trouble both within and outside. Our issues in Afghanistan emanate out of our issues with India. I fully recognise that it is not an easy task for the Pakistani state and its military in the wake of four wars, covert operations and espionage in each other’s countries and the hostile coldness shown by India on many occasions.
But it is in our interest to have peaceful borders in order to industrialise our economy, flourish in trade and commerce and bring prosperity to our people. You may be a peacenik or not, this is in our enlightened self-interest – nothing more nothing less. Like many Pakistanis used to say that the hawks in India have not come to terms with the Partition, it seems that the hawks in Pakistan have not come to terms with it either. At the cost of repeating myself in these columns, the premise for Partition in 1947 was to bring peace to the Subcontinent, not to create a neverending rivalry.
We were not liberated from India, which is the impression given to the masses, for instance, by naming the gate at the Wagah border ‘Bab-e-Azadi’ (door to freedom). Both the countries – India and Pakistan – were liberated from British colonialism. Also, it is common sense that you cannot keep non-state militant groups controlled and restricted forever. If they are organised on religious lines, they will also get more ideologically motivated with time and subscribe to some sect or school of thought as well. If they won’t succeed in imposing themselves outside, they will impose themselves upon you.
The writer is a poet and author based in Islamabad. Email: harris.khalique@gmail.com
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Force or diplomacy? - Dr Maleeha Lodhi
President Obama also confronts doubts among his own public about the need and risks of military strikes, especially without UN authorisation. In his weekly radio broadcast on Saturday, he sought to reassure a sceptical public that the action he envisaged would not be “another Iraq or Afghanistan”.
In a nationwide address planned for Tuesday (today) he will again press the case for military strikes. He will do this against a backdrop of opinion polls that have indicated that more people in the US are against rather than for a military attack on Syria. A Pew poll showed only 29 percent approved of military action. An ABC-Washington Post survey found that 59 percent opposed strikes.
Opinion against unilateral military intervention is of course even stronger across the rest of the world. Last week’s summit meeting of the Group of 20 demonstrated that the weight of opinion among this grouping of developed and developing countries was firmly against any military solution to the Syrian issue. Around the grand table at the palatial venue in St Petersburg, more world leaders were opposed to military action than in favour of Washington’s position.
This made President Obama look diplomatically isolated and he left the summit with his hand weakened, not strengthened. If he was hoping to win endorsement for his plan to bomb Syria this wasn't forthcoming – except from France, Canada, Turkey and Saudi Arabia. To drive home this point at his press conference, President Vladimir Putin named the countries that, like Russia, rejected military action.
Hours of informal discussion at the summit failed to shift the balance of opinion on Syria and proved a setback for the advocates of war. In his message to the conference the Pope joined the international chorus of warnings that a “military solution” would be a “futile pursuit”. The UN secretary general reiterated his call for a ‘political’ solution. As did the EU representative, who also emphasised the importance of the UN process.
Where the G-20 summit proved a lost opportunity was in its failure to bridge the divide and slow the momentum for military action by providing impetus to the stalled diplomatic process for a UN-sponsored peace conference in Geneva. Any expectation that energy could be injected to that process to encourage the US to desist from the military option did not materalise. This of course was not surprising against the background of longstanding complaints voiced by UN officials about the lack of will shown by the warring sides and their patrons to pursue a negotiated settlement – an attitude that has prevented the peace conference from convening.
The predominant international sentiment against the use of military force rests on the illegality of such action without UN authorisation and concerns about a repeat of the Iraq blunder that was undertaken on the basis of false intelligence about Saddam Hussain’s never-to-be-found weapons of mass destruction. What has also weighed in with countries that oppose military action is that military strikes would be the prelude and trigger for escalation into a wider conflict that could engulf an already unsettled region.
The argument of US officials that “narrow and limited” airstrikes will be carefully calibrated has few takers among the international community. “Precision strikes” to “degrade” Syria’s military capabilities will not make them legal any more than they will obviate the risk of a wider conflagration. The dubious assumption that underpins confidence about managing the highly uncertain aftermath is that those bombed will silently suffer the ‘punishment’, not retaliate and will also not be helped by their neighbouring allies through reprisal attacks.
The fallout could go beyond these destabilising strategic consequences. As China’s deputy finance minister, Zhu Guangyao, warned at a briefing on the eve of the G-20 summit: “military action could have a negative impact on the global economy” by pushing up oil prices and fuelling an economic downturn. Therefore, economic repercussions could be as consequential for global stability as political ones.
But these considerations were brushed aside or played down by America’s national security team when they presented the case for punitive military action to members of Congress. Faced with a grilling from those senators wanting answers to what-after-the-airstrike questions, administration officials were hard pressed to offer a convincing response. What really mattered, they argued, was action to “enforce the norm” on the use of chemical weapons, banned under international conventions.
The issue of US credibility was placed at the centre of this argument: if the US did not act after their president said it should, American credibility would suffer a grievous blow. This seemed to suggest that ‘preserving credibility’ was a good enough reason to bomb another country and justify the bloodshed and violence that would inescapably be caused by any airstrike.
In fact US leaders have ended up presenting themselves and others with a false choice: that the only option to military action was to wring hands and do nothing. They have argued in other words that the only response is a military one. This is far from true. The choice is not between paralysis and war. There is a range of non-military options available to press the norm on chemical weapons, once it has been conclusively proven that Bashar al-Assad’s government did in fact use them. Tough economic and diplomatic sanctions, an arms embargo, Security Council condemnation, setting up a special tribunal for Syria, referring the violation to the International Criminal Court and a travel ban on the Syrian regime’s top figures are among several punitive measures that can be considered. To take such actions it is, however, necessary to work through the UN, where mechanisms for accountability are available provided incontrovertible evidence is forthcoming. So the choice that has to be made is between force and diplomacy.
Regrettably the Obama administration already seems to have made that choice and is just waiting for Congressional approval to implement its decision to resort to force. But the majority of the international community has preferred to stick to the principles of international law and the UN charter that commit countries to abjure the use of military force except when authorised by the Security Council or in self-defence. As the G-20 summit demonstrated, the majority of its member nations, like the rest of the global community, are unwilling to endorse the violation of international law, which unilateral US military action would constitute.
An American analyst recently wrote that the Syria debate has forced into focus “a new distance between Washington and America”. The rest of this week and the next will see President Obama strive to close this gap. Whether or not he succeeds in that effort, it is apparent that the distance between Washington and much of the rest of the world will widen even more if President Obama takes the grave step of ordering a military attack on another Muslim country.
The writer is special adviser to the Jang Group/Geo and a former envoy to the US and the UK.
Being Asif Zardari -ZAHID HUSSAIN
“ISLAMABAD is already jolted and now let’s wait for the aftershocks.” That was my first reaction at a TV talk show on Sept 7 when the anchor asked for my views on Asif Zardari as president. A strong tremor had in fact hit parts of the country the previous night.
Like many political analysts I too had been sceptical about Mr Zardari’s survival in power for long given his highly controversial baggage from the past. But I must admit the master crafter, as he was to become, proved us all wrong.
Not only did Mr Zardari become the first democratically elected president in the country to have completed his full term, he also left the office with a guard of honour. He had the distinction of presiding over an unprecedented transition to another elected government; a remarkable accomplishment indeed for one often described as an accidental leader.
He is also rightly credited for strengthening the democratic process and making changes in the Constitution by granting greater autonomy to the provinces. But these may not be the reasons alone for which Mr Zardari will be long remembered.
Ironically, these were also years of waste for the country’s economy and governance, pushing the country towards financial meltdown.
Though his constitutional powers were clipped under the 18th Amendment, Mr Zardari remained the most powerful political leader in the country. Drawing his power as the chairman of the ruling party, he virtually ran the government from the confines of President House where he was mostly surrounded by his former jail mates and schoolmates.
There is indeed a ring of truth to the widespread perception of his government being one of the most incompetent and corrupt in Pakistan’s recent history. As a result, the country has descended into chaos. It is also a fact that Mr Zardari was, perhaps, the most unpopular and controversial civilian leader to have occupied the country’s highest political position.
For sure it had not been smooth sailing for the former president. Several times in the past five years he had to pull himself back from the brink.
Being Zardari has its own perils. Despite rising to the zenith of power he could never get away from his past reputation and old corruption cases continued to haunt him. His stand-off with the Supreme Court on the issue of the reopening of the Swiss money-laundering case claimed the scalp of one prime minister and kept the sword of Damocles hanging over his head. But to give the devil his due, he never seemed to lose his cool and never panicked.
His relations with the military may not have been smooth, but he had learnt to coexist with the generals, sometimes conceding ground or making compromises. His political dexterity and art of outwitting his opponents were not, however, the only reasons for his longevity in power.
He benefited hugely from the military taking a back seat and the changed domestic political dynamics that had no appetite for any kind of extra-constitutional intervention. Mr Zardari’s non-confrontationist ways also suited the generals.
There was, however, one occasion in early 2012 when his government openly clashed with the generals, raising fears that the president might be forced to step down.
The confrontation was precipitated when Mr Zardari tried to protect Hussain Haqqani, Pakistan’s then ambassador to Washington. Mr Haqqani was accused of conspiring with the US against the military. Mr Zardari sacked him, but would not agree to his trial on sedition charges. As the tension mounted, Mr Zardari was flown to Dubai for ‘urgent medical treatment’.
It was perhaps at that time that the president was at his most vulnerable point. A report in Foreign Policy quoted US State Department officials on a telephonic conversation with President Obama in which Mr Zardari appeared completely incoherent, which further fuelled conjecture about his health and political future. But weeks later, he was back in the saddle, defying all speculation.
During his tenure Mr Zardari seldom ventured out of the presidency or the high-walled Bilawal House in Karachi, ostensibly because of security concerns. That insulated him from the reality outside. He has never been a popular mass politician, but his government’s appalling performance and charges of rampant corruption involving key members of his government further eroded his credibility. He, however, remained delusional about his party’s chances of success at the polls.
With his political wheeling and dealing he thought the elections were all sewn up in favour of the PPP and its allies. He was extremely confident about winning a second term in office.
That was not to happen. He seemed to have completely underestimated the rising anti-government public sentiment. Mr Zardari may have succeeded against all odds in completing his five-year term, but his party paid a heavy price at the polls for its gross misrule and ineptitude.
Once the country’s most powerful political force with nationwide support, the PPP suffered a humiliating defeat in the elections, with its influence now restricted to rural Sindh and that too seems to be on shaky ground. It was not really a vote for the party on the basis of its provincial government’s performance; it was one driven largely by sub-nationalist slogans.
Mr Zardari may be out of power, but certainly not out of politics. He plans to lead the PPP from his mansion worth billions in Lahore and reportedly gifted to him by Riaz Malik of Bahria Town fame.
The former president finds himself facing the much tougher job of mass politics, which he has very little experience of. He neither has the Bhutto charisma nor the popular appeal that is required to revive the PPP’s political fortunes.
It will take much more than political wheeling and dealing to revitalise a highly demoralised party. Also, with the lifting of presidential immunity, Mr Zardari may once again find himself entangled in renewed legal battles inside and outside Pakistan. Testing times are ahead for the former president.
The writer is an author and journalist.
zhussain100@yahoo.com
Twitter: @hidhussain
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Parliament’s vote - A.G. NOORANI
BY any standard, the vote in Britain’s House of Commons on Aug 29 was a historic one. Its effects will be felt, and its significance better appreciated, with the passage of time.
By a narrow majority of 285 votes to 272, the house rejected the government’s motion on military intervention in Syria though it was hedged with qualifications.
The motion called for a “strong humanitarian response” from the international community that “may, if necessary, require military action that is legal, proportionate and focused on saving lives by preventing and deterring further use of Syria’s chemical weapons”.
It also said that a UN “process must be followed as far as possible to ensure the maximum legitimacy for any such action,” and further, the secretary-general “should ensure a briefing to the United Nations Security Council immediately upon the completion of the observer team’s initial mission”.
Besides, “before any direct British involvement in such action, a further vote of the House of Commons will take place”. The house remained sceptical, despite all these reservations.
The vote is in the great tradition of British parliamentary practice in which members of the ruling party revolt against the government of the day. The most famous incident was on May 8, 1940 during the Second World War when prime minister Neville Chamberlain had to resign.
The government had a majority of 81; but over 30 Conservatives voted with the Labour and Liberal oppositions and a further 60 abstained. Leopold Amery, a close colleague of Chamberlain, quoted Oliver Cromwell’s words to the Long Parliament: “You have sat too long here for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!”
Lloyd George, a former Liberal Prime Minister during the First World War, seized on Chamberlain’s call for sacrifice to wound him. “I say solemnly that the prime minister should give an example of sacrifice, because there is nothing which can contribute more to victory in this war than that he should sacrifice the seals of office.” When he sat down the prime minister’s fate was sealed.
Anthony Eden’s bid to capture the Suez Canal in 1956, in complicity with Israel, eventually forced him out of office as prime minister well after the ceasefire. The fiasco convinced Tory grandees as well as the backbenchers that his shelf life had expired.
In 1990 Margaret Thatcher resigned though she beat the challenge to the party leadership easily because as many as 60 MPs refused to vote for her. She had been weakened by deputy prime minister Sir Geoffrey Howe’s brilliant resignation speech in the House a few weeks earlier. The party was convinced that, what with her stand on the poll tax, she would lead them to disaster in the next elections. She had to go.
However, this was preceded by a series of rebuffs in 1988. On Jan 12, the government’s majority of 101 was cut to 47 when several Tories voted against the freeze on child benefits and many more abstained. Three nights later, Tory MPs defied a three-line whip to vote against a private member’s bill on protection of information and the government’s majority fell to 37.
About 19 of them voted in favour of the bill, about 50 more abstained in deliberate defiance of the whip. Some former ministers were among the rebels. On April 18, the government narrowly escaped a humiliating defeat when its majority slumped to 25 on the final reading of the poll tax bill.
Now for the lessons, since South Asia has adopted the parliamentary model. To begin with, such revolts are unthinkable, at least in India. Since the MP gets his party’s ticket for the elections from the party boss, he lacks the very capacity to revolt even if he wished to do so. It would mean political suicide.
In the UK, political parties are organised constituency-wise and it is the constituency association which awards the party ticket after interviews and an internal poll.
On Eden’s resignation from the House of Commons, more than 250 candidates applied. All were rejected. A candidate was selected from a new shortlist — without any reference to the leaders in London. In India, as elsewhere in the developing world, a democratic constitution is worked by undemocratic parties, who are governed by party bosses.
The British parliament was recalled especially for the debate on Syria as it is for any urgent legislation. No democracy outside South Asia empowers its government to make laws by promulgating ordinances; a Raj relic which our leaders merrily adopted.
In the realm of foreign affairs the after-effects of the seismic vote will be felt for long. In March 1955 in the last week of his premiership, Churchill confided to an old friend and confidante, Violet Bonham Carter, “we must never get out of step with the Americans – never” (italics in the original). That doctrine, and the “special relationship” it fostered, is now all but dead.
The ripples are felt even in France, now hailed as America’s “oldest ally”. In 2003, France’s opposition to the attack on Iraq made many Americans shun French fries. But, as the BBC reported from Paris, opinion on a war with Syria is sharply divided — as indeed is public opinion in the US itself. All dissenters are encouraged by the British vote.
Its effect on the future of the British government remains to be seen. Prime Minister David Cameron, though bloodied, was unbowed: “I strongly believe in the need for a tough response to the use of chemical weapons. But I also believe in respecting the will of this House of Commons.”
As he recognised, the vote simply reflected public opinion. President Barack Obama’s options promise no political gains for him.
The writer is an author and a lawyer.
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