If you've ever wondered what the quintessential PML-N supporter + sympathizer group is like, then look no further. Thanks to Shahid Saeed's youtubing skills, the City 042 clip below shows a slaughterhouse auction being conducted by the district authorities (DCO Ahad Cheema and co.), with a bunch of thekedars (contractors) in attendance.
Watch the video and listen to some of the auction rates being quoted by the news report. I know this sounds incredibly judgmental but a lot of people never associate this kind of money with a rather desi looking bunch like the one in the video. But the truth is, this is why the services sector now stands at 52 percent of total GDP.
If one individual is willing to pay 3 crore for a slaughterhouse contract, just imagine the kind of donations his political party of choice would get to make that process a bit easier
On a side note, City 42 is an amazing channel, and perhaps the best thing to come out of an expanded media sphere. It actually deals with local municipal issues, gives coverage to implementors and policy-makers at the grassroots level, and engenders a coherent relationship between the citizen and his/her city.
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
Friday, 17 June 2011
Punjabis and Highways
I've been wanting to do this post for quite some time now but I never really had enough evidence to substantiate it properly. Until now.
For a lighter side to the province, Shahid has put up a tumblr called Productive Punjabis, simply to chronicle the cultural quirks that make Punjabis a distinctively unique species. Many of these quirks, and there are a lot of them to begin with, are often quite funny to the suburban English medium eye.
This particular quirk is something I've been fascinated with ever since I took my first trip from Lahore to another city in the province.
This is a provincial highway. There's absolutely nothing special about it.
The Talagang-Mianwali road
(Ironically, single lane roads connecting two districts are not only called Highways, they are sometimes referred to as Superways.)
Anyone who's ever traveled in Punjab will know that if you're on a highway, this sight can never be too far off.
Guys sitting on the side of a highway
Sometimes, these guys don't like how a chair feels against their rear-ends, so they take extra measures to enhance comfort
Charpais outside shops, on one side of the highway
But it doesn't stop there. Sometimes, people will bring charpais and themselves to completely random spots on the side of the road, just so that they have a better view of the highway
They came on motorbikes
So I request anyone and everyone who's ever sat on the side of a highway to expand on what's so great about it and why does such a large part of our male population prefer to indulge in this seemingly useless activity?
For a lighter side to the province, Shahid has put up a tumblr called Productive Punjabis, simply to chronicle the cultural quirks that make Punjabis a distinctively unique species. Many of these quirks, and there are a lot of them to begin with, are often quite funny to the suburban English medium eye.
This particular quirk is something I've been fascinated with ever since I took my first trip from Lahore to another city in the province.
This is a provincial highway. There's absolutely nothing special about it.
The Talagang-Mianwali road
(Ironically, single lane roads connecting two districts are not only called Highways, they are sometimes referred to as Superways.)
Anyone who's ever traveled in Punjab will know that if you're on a highway, this sight can never be too far off.
Guys sitting on the side of a highway
Sometimes, these guys don't like how a chair feels against their rear-ends, so they take extra measures to enhance comfort
Charpais outside shops, on one side of the highway
But it doesn't stop there. Sometimes, people will bring charpais and themselves to completely random spots on the side of the road, just so that they have a better view of the highway
They came on motorbikes
So I request anyone and everyone who's ever sat on the side of a highway to expand on what's so great about it and why does such a large part of our male population prefer to indulge in this seemingly useless activity?
Sunday, 12 June 2011
Civil-Military relations and the PML-N
A couple of weeks ago, Ahsan Butt published an interview with anthropologist Tahir Naqvi that covered topics ranging from Muhajir nationalism to the MQM's evolution as a political party. The metropolitan, and for want of a better word, unique nature of Karachi attracts a great deal of attention from anthropologists, both local and foreign, and the relatively urbane educational outlook of its residents encourages them to engage with the city from a personal-academic point of view. A number of Karachiite bloggers, social science students, and academics pontificate on the dynamics of the city, not just as objective observers, but also, it seems, as residents trying to understand the question of metropolitan identity for personal reasons.
As many of the city's vocal residents - of which there are plenty - will tell you, understanding the dynamics of Karachi is impossible without paying due consideration to the phenomenon of Muhajir nationalism, and specifically to the characteristics of MQM's politics in the city. I, being someone who's never been to Karachi, would extend this argument to other regions and other forms of collective projections. In fact, it won't be incorrect to say, especially sitting in 2011, that most collective projections, be they as vocal and expansive as of the Muhajir or Baloch variety, or as limited in scope, agenda, and intellectual depth as the Hazara movement, do affect the state in one form or the other.
Largely in the same vein as students of Karachi trying to understand their city and its politics, I've been involved in similar, but more simplistic efforts in the last year or so, albeit focusing on my backyard of central Punjab. The issue of Punjab, i.e., its politics, the transformations witnessed in society, and its relationship with the state, is something that provides me with both an academic muse, and an explanation of the self. It, at a very basic level, is an exercise of observation as much as it is of introspection.
As a consequence of my engagement with Punjab, the reason why I thought Ahsan's piece came at a very good time was because it, in a way, contextualized Nawaz Sharif's politics very well. Don't get me wrong - I hardly intend to equate Muhajir nationalism with the rather non-identity based party politics of a particular region, but, in one particular sense, there is a strong parallel that can be drawn between the two.
This parallel is based on the evolution of Muhajir nationalism as an inner entity, to a political party negotiating with the state from the outside on one hand, and on the other, the PML-N, a representative of an almost passive collective projection, transforming, at least in rhetoric, from a comfortable 'internal' position to something that speaks of structural change.
Brief History of the PML-N
Nawaz Sharif's party is not an identity based party - at least not in the way we define 'nationalist' parties in Pakistan. The PML-N, like most other Muslim League incarnations, started off as a splinter group by breaking away from Junejo's Muslim League in 1993 under Fida Mohammad Khan and Nawaz Sharif's leadership. Sharif, as almost everyone knows, was drafted into Punjabi politics and was given the Finance minister's office and then ultimately the Chief Minister's office during Zia's martial law regime. As a standalone entity, Nawaz's biggest selling point, which was something the army realized, was that he could legitimately speak for both big business and small mercantilist interests, being a central Punjabi Kashmiri, without any previous political baggage. But the downside to that was he had no real power base, and much like the UP elite of 1947, had to become part of various deals with political factions in order to remain electorally and hence politically relevant. One famous deal, that ultimately determined the trajectory of national and provincial politics for the next decade, was brokered by the then governor of Punjab Lt. Gen (r) Ghulam Jillani between Nawaz Sharif and Chaudhary Shujaat, soon after the assassination of Ch. Zahoor Elahi. The advantage of this deal was that Sharif would get a sizable electoral platform along the GT road belt, as well as in certain other parts of the country, while the Chaudharies would get a clean face, a direct line with the army, and a whole bunch of ex Jamaat, ex MSF politicians in urban Punjab.
This brief history of Nawaz Sharif's party serves to remind us, at this point, of its evolution and origins. At the heart of it all, there was a very simple pact that drove the PML-N between 1993 to 1999 in Punjab: good relations with the army, an urban segment of the party to battle the PPP and the Jamaat, and a rural segment of the party to suppress Hamid Nasir Chattha's PML (Junejo) and later on Manzoor Wattoo's PML (Jinnah). At this point, all Muslim League factions were associated with the armed forces in one way or the other, but the PML-N was perhaps the preferred partner.
In 1997, disenchantment with the PPP, and increasing cynicism with the democratic process led to the PML-N coming in with a 2/3rd majority and with nearly non-existent opposition in both Punjab and at the center. Such a large majority however hid the strains between Shujaat's faction in the party, centered on the smaller GT road towns, and Nawaz Sharif's more urban faction, which were growing due to multiple reasons - with the biggest being the nomination of Shahbaz as CM Punjab over Ch. Pervez Elahi (contrary to what had been promised).
In most reviews of the 1997-99 regime, a lot of focus is placed on Nawaz Sharif as a person, his psyche, and his ego. The Ameer-ul-Momineen move, the attempts to gain greater control over the army, and even the construction of the Motorway, are all seen as the projection of a Punjabi ego over the entire country. The unfortunate bit is that there is little academic material to replace this rather individualistic interpretation of an entire period with something more structural. The guess that I usually take is that this desire for more absolutism was in part dictated by the internal strains being faced by the Nawaz faction in the party, which led to moves such as the disqualification act, the desire to have the armed forces pliant in order to prevent a deal being struck with someone else (Shujaat or Chattha), and even the construction of the Motorway to appease and please politicians in the Pindi-Chakwal-Sargodha-Sheikhupura belt.
However, the confrontations with the army, the coup and ultimately the construction of the PML-Q in its aftermath highlight exactly how much of a political party the PML-N was even as late as 1999. It took a few winks, and a few slaps to drop the eager apples into the army's lap, and while Nawaz Sharif secured his exile to the Kingdom, some of those that stuck, like Javed Hashmi, suffered torture, and suppression with only 19 seats to show for.
PML-N and the Citizen-Officer Divide:
The splintering of the PML-N was not surprising given the constellation of opportunists in the party, and the patronage based system of politics in Punjab. A candidate's power is dependent on patronage, and that cannot be secured without access to the state. Urban interests, like industrialists, traders, and contractors, require state access for tenders, tax evasion, and export quotas, while landlords and agriculturists require this for irrigation concessions, favorable pricing, and other things like doling out state employment. This dynamic leads to, and there is no better word for it, opportunism in its purist form, simply because practicing confrontational mass-politics, at least till 2007, was simply not seen as an option in Punjab.
With a cleansing of most of the embedded opportunists from the party, more by default than by design, the PML-N, resuscitated its politics by participating in the lawyers' movement, carving out a careful space with the new army leadership, and then laying claim to the anti-dictatorship agenda. An electoral showing better than what most expected, and the evolution into a more coherent, and representative party has allowed the PML-N to feel more secure within its own spatial limits. The PML-N is a party of urban central Punjab, and outside of it is a group of individual patrons who, if not part of it, pay homage and tribute to the party's high command. The party, and its support base, is driven, first and foremost, by the expansionary nature of patronage, business and trade, and secondly, by the notion of a morally 'correct' quasi-Islamic republic as an ideal.
Both of these things provide enough space and ground for the PML-N's latest brand of politics to be non-contradictory, i.e., it can be conservative and business driven, and see a reduced role of the military in the state as well. But the point of contention in all of this is a) the history of the party being close to, if not totally, an establishment/armed forces lackey, and b) the middle class voter base which still idealizes a strong political role for the military on the basis of its 'discipline, merit, and role as guardians of borders, strategic assets, and national interest(s)'.
The first is often explained away by supporters and apologists (of which despite accusations, I am not one of) by, again, mostly focusing on Nawaz as a person. 'He is a reformed man,' and 'He has learned his lesson,' or as the more cynical ones say 'He is out for revenge, not just for 1999 but also for 1993 (Kakar's dismissal after the Supreme Court reinstated his government)'. For the longest time, an individualistic interpretation of Nawaz's pro-democracy stand was tempered off with the politics of other individuals like Chaudhary Nisar and his connections to the army. In any case, the PML-N was, and is still largely treated and interpreted as a party of elite individuals, which is prone to factionalism, and may or may not agree with each other on every issue.
The second contradiction is perhaps more difficult to explain: The party is strongest in regions where army presence is strongest. To understand this point we have to realize that the army's political economy, especially in Punjab, is perhaps one of the biggest reasons why there is a PML-N support base in the first place. Urban development in the province is linked to the multiplier effects generated by cantonment development (Rawalpindi, Jhelum, Kharian, Gujranwala) or by direct army recruitment (Sargodha, Chakwal, Attock). It has helped in the creation of a middle class that associates itself more with the ideal of the army than with any political process or other institution of state power. So if these urban groups, middle class or otherwise, form the basis of PML-N's strength in the province, how can the official party line be something that violates a very fundamental political position held by its own constituency?
As of this moment, and it's already 12-20 am, I have two resolutions of this particular contradiction. The first is the army's expose as an incompetent institution, both in its Amreeki pithu (American lackey-ness) role, as well as its inaction during the Abbotabad operation and the violation of our maidenhood by American choppers, have allowed the Punjabi urban classes to properly question the military as an institution, as opposed to just one Army Chief/dictator. Anecdotal proof of this was that a couple of weeks after Osama's killing, I got a funny anti-army text message from one of my most reactionary and pro-army cousins. The more serious implication is that anti-Americanism in this particular class has reached a point where any association with the Americans is seen as a violation of national interest. Interestingly, along this time, the PML-N has rhetorically questioned American and multilateral assistance and has even gone as far as canceling aid agreements.
My second resolution stems directly from the role of the military in the economy and its development into an economic empire. The PML-N support and candidate base is filled with people who have a direct vested interest in the way the economy is run. They thrive on the expansion of their enterprises and businesses, and want to explore market opportunities, trade options, and employment potential. A segment that is so closely entrenched in both manufacturing as well as mercantile/business capital faces a direct battle of resources with the armed forces. If I run a textile unit and I don't get any electricity, but Fauji cotton mills gets uninterrupted electricity, and that too at subsidized rate, I will be miffed. Similarly, if I am a contractor and my greed thrives on an ability to gain construction tenders, and I see them all going to NLC or FWO, I will be miffed. This phenomenon is called the crowding out of private capital (small-scale businessmen/industrialists) by a monopolistic entity (army) and it results in the former feeling fairly aggrieved. Such a crowding out renders the sustaining of patronage networks increasingly difficult, something that the PML-N can't work without. At another level, increasing awareness about the military's financial and resource empire also makes average middle class people feel marginalized and discriminated against. The popular refrain that cantonments get electricity and nice roads etc., while the rest of the city gets to drink ditch water could very well be at play here.
These two factors, public perception about the army, and the nature of our political economy, have resulted in a certain degree of uncertainty about the political role that the institution plays in the minds of the PML-N supporters, and even their leadership. The question, however, remains that are these sufficient conditions to influence Nawaz Sharif, and the party at large, to confront the military on issues like foreign policy command and the defence budget, when a mis-perception could lead to the risk of being isolated and marginalized, both in the eyes of the establishment and in society?
Nawaz's position could very well be a flash-in-the-pan, done at the behest of some aspect of elite politics that we know nothing about. It could all be a larger game, or it could very well be nothing more than rhetoric. After all, Nawaz hasn't targeted the military's jihadi policy in the tribal areas or it's relationship with religion, and that could very well be because far-right elements are strategic assets for certain quarters of the PML-N as well.
But what we do know for sure is that this latest strand is confusing and not easily reducible to the personality and psyche of Nawaz Sharif and a couple of others. Our state is insulated, and to a degree, autonomous, but it is not functioning in a vacuum. It remains vulnerable to social shifts and transformations, and at the same time responds to, or confronts, these shifts as well. The interesting thing is that it is happening in Punjab, and this is probably what causes sleepless nights amongst the army high command. If the most popular leader of their biggest support and recruitment base can say these things, then it directly undercuts their social power by a great extent. What is happening right now, and I write this knowing full well that all of this could die down in a bit, is an example of a right-wing, conservative, and bigoted party taking a position that resonates with those amongst us who see the citizen-officer divide as the principal contradiction in the country. Whether elite politicking will put an end to this sooner or later is a temporal question, but right now, closer observations of the structure might reveal more about the internal fragmentation of the state, and the increasingly exposed fissures of the elite political domain, leading us to an improved understanding of state-society relations in the country.
As many of the city's vocal residents - of which there are plenty - will tell you, understanding the dynamics of Karachi is impossible without paying due consideration to the phenomenon of Muhajir nationalism, and specifically to the characteristics of MQM's politics in the city. I, being someone who's never been to Karachi, would extend this argument to other regions and other forms of collective projections. In fact, it won't be incorrect to say, especially sitting in 2011, that most collective projections, be they as vocal and expansive as of the Muhajir or Baloch variety, or as limited in scope, agenda, and intellectual depth as the Hazara movement, do affect the state in one form or the other.
Largely in the same vein as students of Karachi trying to understand their city and its politics, I've been involved in similar, but more simplistic efforts in the last year or so, albeit focusing on my backyard of central Punjab. The issue of Punjab, i.e., its politics, the transformations witnessed in society, and its relationship with the state, is something that provides me with both an academic muse, and an explanation of the self. It, at a very basic level, is an exercise of observation as much as it is of introspection.
As a consequence of my engagement with Punjab, the reason why I thought Ahsan's piece came at a very good time was because it, in a way, contextualized Nawaz Sharif's politics very well. Don't get me wrong - I hardly intend to equate Muhajir nationalism with the rather non-identity based party politics of a particular region, but, in one particular sense, there is a strong parallel that can be drawn between the two.
This parallel is based on the evolution of Muhajir nationalism as an inner entity, to a political party negotiating with the state from the outside on one hand, and on the other, the PML-N, a representative of an almost passive collective projection, transforming, at least in rhetoric, from a comfortable 'internal' position to something that speaks of structural change.
Brief History of the PML-N
Nawaz Sharif's party is not an identity based party - at least not in the way we define 'nationalist' parties in Pakistan. The PML-N, like most other Muslim League incarnations, started off as a splinter group by breaking away from Junejo's Muslim League in 1993 under Fida Mohammad Khan and Nawaz Sharif's leadership. Sharif, as almost everyone knows, was drafted into Punjabi politics and was given the Finance minister's office and then ultimately the Chief Minister's office during Zia's martial law regime. As a standalone entity, Nawaz's biggest selling point, which was something the army realized, was that he could legitimately speak for both big business and small mercantilist interests, being a central Punjabi Kashmiri, without any previous political baggage. But the downside to that was he had no real power base, and much like the UP elite of 1947, had to become part of various deals with political factions in order to remain electorally and hence politically relevant. One famous deal, that ultimately determined the trajectory of national and provincial politics for the next decade, was brokered by the then governor of Punjab Lt. Gen (r) Ghulam Jillani between Nawaz Sharif and Chaudhary Shujaat, soon after the assassination of Ch. Zahoor Elahi. The advantage of this deal was that Sharif would get a sizable electoral platform along the GT road belt, as well as in certain other parts of the country, while the Chaudharies would get a clean face, a direct line with the army, and a whole bunch of ex Jamaat, ex MSF politicians in urban Punjab.
This brief history of Nawaz Sharif's party serves to remind us, at this point, of its evolution and origins. At the heart of it all, there was a very simple pact that drove the PML-N between 1993 to 1999 in Punjab: good relations with the army, an urban segment of the party to battle the PPP and the Jamaat, and a rural segment of the party to suppress Hamid Nasir Chattha's PML (Junejo) and later on Manzoor Wattoo's PML (Jinnah). At this point, all Muslim League factions were associated with the armed forces in one way or the other, but the PML-N was perhaps the preferred partner.
In 1997, disenchantment with the PPP, and increasing cynicism with the democratic process led to the PML-N coming in with a 2/3rd majority and with nearly non-existent opposition in both Punjab and at the center. Such a large majority however hid the strains between Shujaat's faction in the party, centered on the smaller GT road towns, and Nawaz Sharif's more urban faction, which were growing due to multiple reasons - with the biggest being the nomination of Shahbaz as CM Punjab over Ch. Pervez Elahi (contrary to what had been promised).
In most reviews of the 1997-99 regime, a lot of focus is placed on Nawaz Sharif as a person, his psyche, and his ego. The Ameer-ul-Momineen move, the attempts to gain greater control over the army, and even the construction of the Motorway, are all seen as the projection of a Punjabi ego over the entire country. The unfortunate bit is that there is little academic material to replace this rather individualistic interpretation of an entire period with something more structural. The guess that I usually take is that this desire for more absolutism was in part dictated by the internal strains being faced by the Nawaz faction in the party, which led to moves such as the disqualification act, the desire to have the armed forces pliant in order to prevent a deal being struck with someone else (Shujaat or Chattha), and even the construction of the Motorway to appease and please politicians in the Pindi-Chakwal-Sargodha-Sheikhupura belt.
However, the confrontations with the army, the coup and ultimately the construction of the PML-Q in its aftermath highlight exactly how much of a political party the PML-N was even as late as 1999. It took a few winks, and a few slaps to drop the eager apples into the army's lap, and while Nawaz Sharif secured his exile to the Kingdom, some of those that stuck, like Javed Hashmi, suffered torture, and suppression with only 19 seats to show for.
PML-N and the Citizen-Officer Divide:
The splintering of the PML-N was not surprising given the constellation of opportunists in the party, and the patronage based system of politics in Punjab. A candidate's power is dependent on patronage, and that cannot be secured without access to the state. Urban interests, like industrialists, traders, and contractors, require state access for tenders, tax evasion, and export quotas, while landlords and agriculturists require this for irrigation concessions, favorable pricing, and other things like doling out state employment. This dynamic leads to, and there is no better word for it, opportunism in its purist form, simply because practicing confrontational mass-politics, at least till 2007, was simply not seen as an option in Punjab.
With a cleansing of most of the embedded opportunists from the party, more by default than by design, the PML-N, resuscitated its politics by participating in the lawyers' movement, carving out a careful space with the new army leadership, and then laying claim to the anti-dictatorship agenda. An electoral showing better than what most expected, and the evolution into a more coherent, and representative party has allowed the PML-N to feel more secure within its own spatial limits. The PML-N is a party of urban central Punjab, and outside of it is a group of individual patrons who, if not part of it, pay homage and tribute to the party's high command. The party, and its support base, is driven, first and foremost, by the expansionary nature of patronage, business and trade, and secondly, by the notion of a morally 'correct' quasi-Islamic republic as an ideal.
Both of these things provide enough space and ground for the PML-N's latest brand of politics to be non-contradictory, i.e., it can be conservative and business driven, and see a reduced role of the military in the state as well. But the point of contention in all of this is a) the history of the party being close to, if not totally, an establishment/armed forces lackey, and b) the middle class voter base which still idealizes a strong political role for the military on the basis of its 'discipline, merit, and role as guardians of borders, strategic assets, and national interest(s)'.
The first is often explained away by supporters and apologists (of which despite accusations, I am not one of) by, again, mostly focusing on Nawaz as a person. 'He is a reformed man,' and 'He has learned his lesson,' or as the more cynical ones say 'He is out for revenge, not just for 1999 but also for 1993 (Kakar's dismissal after the Supreme Court reinstated his government)'. For the longest time, an individualistic interpretation of Nawaz's pro-democracy stand was tempered off with the politics of other individuals like Chaudhary Nisar and his connections to the army. In any case, the PML-N was, and is still largely treated and interpreted as a party of elite individuals, which is prone to factionalism, and may or may not agree with each other on every issue.
The second contradiction is perhaps more difficult to explain: The party is strongest in regions where army presence is strongest. To understand this point we have to realize that the army's political economy, especially in Punjab, is perhaps one of the biggest reasons why there is a PML-N support base in the first place. Urban development in the province is linked to the multiplier effects generated by cantonment development (Rawalpindi, Jhelum, Kharian, Gujranwala) or by direct army recruitment (Sargodha, Chakwal, Attock). It has helped in the creation of a middle class that associates itself more with the ideal of the army than with any political process or other institution of state power. So if these urban groups, middle class or otherwise, form the basis of PML-N's strength in the province, how can the official party line be something that violates a very fundamental political position held by its own constituency?
As of this moment, and it's already 12-20 am, I have two resolutions of this particular contradiction. The first is the army's expose as an incompetent institution, both in its Amreeki pithu (American lackey-ness) role, as well as its inaction during the Abbotabad operation and the violation of our maidenhood by American choppers, have allowed the Punjabi urban classes to properly question the military as an institution, as opposed to just one Army Chief/dictator. Anecdotal proof of this was that a couple of weeks after Osama's killing, I got a funny anti-army text message from one of my most reactionary and pro-army cousins. The more serious implication is that anti-Americanism in this particular class has reached a point where any association with the Americans is seen as a violation of national interest. Interestingly, along this time, the PML-N has rhetorically questioned American and multilateral assistance and has even gone as far as canceling aid agreements.
My second resolution stems directly from the role of the military in the economy and its development into an economic empire. The PML-N support and candidate base is filled with people who have a direct vested interest in the way the economy is run. They thrive on the expansion of their enterprises and businesses, and want to explore market opportunities, trade options, and employment potential. A segment that is so closely entrenched in both manufacturing as well as mercantile/business capital faces a direct battle of resources with the armed forces. If I run a textile unit and I don't get any electricity, but Fauji cotton mills gets uninterrupted electricity, and that too at subsidized rate, I will be miffed. Similarly, if I am a contractor and my greed thrives on an ability to gain construction tenders, and I see them all going to NLC or FWO, I will be miffed. This phenomenon is called the crowding out of private capital (small-scale businessmen/industrialists) by a monopolistic entity (army) and it results in the former feeling fairly aggrieved. Such a crowding out renders the sustaining of patronage networks increasingly difficult, something that the PML-N can't work without. At another level, increasing awareness about the military's financial and resource empire also makes average middle class people feel marginalized and discriminated against. The popular refrain that cantonments get electricity and nice roads etc., while the rest of the city gets to drink ditch water could very well be at play here.
These two factors, public perception about the army, and the nature of our political economy, have resulted in a certain degree of uncertainty about the political role that the institution plays in the minds of the PML-N supporters, and even their leadership. The question, however, remains that are these sufficient conditions to influence Nawaz Sharif, and the party at large, to confront the military on issues like foreign policy command and the defence budget, when a mis-perception could lead to the risk of being isolated and marginalized, both in the eyes of the establishment and in society?
Nawaz's position could very well be a flash-in-the-pan, done at the behest of some aspect of elite politics that we know nothing about. It could all be a larger game, or it could very well be nothing more than rhetoric. After all, Nawaz hasn't targeted the military's jihadi policy in the tribal areas or it's relationship with religion, and that could very well be because far-right elements are strategic assets for certain quarters of the PML-N as well.
But what we do know for sure is that this latest strand is confusing and not easily reducible to the personality and psyche of Nawaz Sharif and a couple of others. Our state is insulated, and to a degree, autonomous, but it is not functioning in a vacuum. It remains vulnerable to social shifts and transformations, and at the same time responds to, or confronts, these shifts as well. The interesting thing is that it is happening in Punjab, and this is probably what causes sleepless nights amongst the army high command. If the most popular leader of their biggest support and recruitment base can say these things, then it directly undercuts their social power by a great extent. What is happening right now, and I write this knowing full well that all of this could die down in a bit, is an example of a right-wing, conservative, and bigoted party taking a position that resonates with those amongst us who see the citizen-officer divide as the principal contradiction in the country. Whether elite politicking will put an end to this sooner or later is a temporal question, but right now, closer observations of the structure might reveal more about the internal fragmentation of the state, and the increasingly exposed fissures of the elite political domain, leading us to an improved understanding of state-society relations in the country.
Friday, 3 June 2011
Born again Democrats
Two days ago, journalists, cameramen, and members of progressive political parties held a Ghaibaana Nimaz-i-Jinaza (funeral prayers in absentia) for murdered investigative reporter Saleem Shehzad. After the prayer proceedings were over, the crowd broke out into angry chants and slogans against the army, and demanded accountability and justice for this extremely brutal act.
Some of the loudest sloganeering, especially against the army, came from a tall, wiry guy, who, after establishing the baigharati of Generals and Colonels, picked up a Dawn News microphone and started interviewing media personalities in attendance (Najam Sethi, Moeed Pirzada, Naseem Zehra, Muneeb of Najam Sethi fame, Hamid Mir, Asma Jahangir, and others). Turns out the guy was Azaz Syed, investigative reporter for Dawn News, and well known his short, but extremely informative show, The Spy Master.
You can watch that show and some of his other stuff here.
One of his greatest clips, something i was only recently shown by Shahid Saeed, is where he puts Lt. Gen (r) Orakzai on the spot for his 'born-again democrat' views. One of the things that i find most annoying about an expanded media sphere is that plenty of ex Generals find space to voice their (mostly new-found) democratic opinions, talking in somber tones about civilian supremacy, and the wrongdoings of the army. While there are some genuine cases, like Lt. Gen (r) Talat Masood, and Admiral Fasih Bokhari, nearly all of the others voice dissent against the army once they have their plots and pensions in place. When confronted about their shenanigans as part of that institution, they give a response such as the one posted below.
'Sir aap nay koi dissenting note diya tha?'
Some of the loudest sloganeering, especially against the army, came from a tall, wiry guy, who, after establishing the baigharati of Generals and Colonels, picked up a Dawn News microphone and started interviewing media personalities in attendance (Najam Sethi, Moeed Pirzada, Naseem Zehra, Muneeb of Najam Sethi fame, Hamid Mir, Asma Jahangir, and others). Turns out the guy was Azaz Syed, investigative reporter for Dawn News, and well known his short, but extremely informative show, The Spy Master.
You can watch that show and some of his other stuff here.
One of his greatest clips, something i was only recently shown by Shahid Saeed, is where he puts Lt. Gen (r) Orakzai on the spot for his 'born-again democrat' views. One of the things that i find most annoying about an expanded media sphere is that plenty of ex Generals find space to voice their (mostly new-found) democratic opinions, talking in somber tones about civilian supremacy, and the wrongdoings of the army. While there are some genuine cases, like Lt. Gen (r) Talat Masood, and Admiral Fasih Bokhari, nearly all of the others voice dissent against the army once they have their plots and pensions in place. When confronted about their shenanigans as part of that institution, they give a response such as the one posted below.
'Sir aap nay koi dissenting note diya tha?'
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Demonstration against Professor Dashtiari's murder
The list of Baloch students, political workers and activists who have been targeted and killed by state agencies or by state-sponsored militant groups in Balochistan is very long. Every new name seems to blur in with the ones that preceded it, especially since the list is growing longer at such an alarmingly fast pace.
The latest victim in this spate of violence has been Professor Saba Dashtiari, a self-made intellectual, writer, teacher, and in the last few years, activist. He was known to students across Balochistan for being an exceptionally well-read, passionate, and simple man who invested greatly in his students and encouraged them to read, think, question, and learn. Prof. Dashtiari spent many of his years compiling collections of Balochi literature and poetry and established the Syed Zahoor Shah Hashmi library in Malir, Karachi which has up to 150,000 books on Baloch history, language, literature, and other works which have been translated to the Balochi language by him. Born and bred in a lower-middle-class family in Lyari, Dashtiari was a symbol of resistance and hope for the common man.
Apart from the fact that Dashtiari was killed on Quetta's main Sariab Road, just outside the University campus and within a 500-meter radius of Sariab police station, is a clear statement of the state's inability- or unwillingness, however one chooses to see it- to maintain law and order, provide protection to its citizens, or deliver justice. The fact that an organization called Ansar-ul-Islam took responsibility for the assassination in order to divert attention away from the state and make it appear as a religiously-motivated attack is even more insidious. Everyone knows that it is not the Taliban or religious outfits that are abducting and killing scores of people in Balochistan; it is the military.
It is also unfortunate that when Nazima Talib or other Punjabi/non-Baloch teachers are killed, there is a hue and cry in the national media about the growing xenophobia and ethnic prejudice in the Baloch national movement. The Baloch response is generally defiant - and rightly so - for they argue: when has Punjab/Punjabis ever protested against the killing of our people? Mutilated bodies of young men are found on the roadside, in the wilderness, virtually on a daily basis in Balochistan now. And we will have to admit, we have been silent.
Please join us tomorrow to condemn Prof. Dashtiari's murder and break this silence.
DATE/TIME: Friday, 3 June 2011, 3:00pm-4:00pm
VENUE: Quaid-e-Azam University Campus, at the Bus Stand (near Medical Center).
The latest victim in this spate of violence has been Professor Saba Dashtiari, a self-made intellectual, writer, teacher, and in the last few years, activist. He was known to students across Balochistan for being an exceptionally well-read, passionate, and simple man who invested greatly in his students and encouraged them to read, think, question, and learn. Prof. Dashtiari spent many of his years compiling collections of Balochi literature and poetry and established the Syed Zahoor Shah Hashmi library in Malir, Karachi which has up to 150,000 books on Baloch history, language, literature, and other works which have been translated to the Balochi language by him. Born and bred in a lower-middle-class family in Lyari, Dashtiari was a symbol of resistance and hope for the common man.
Apart from the fact that Dashtiari was killed on Quetta's main Sariab Road, just outside the University campus and within a 500-meter radius of Sariab police station, is a clear statement of the state's inability- or unwillingness, however one chooses to see it- to maintain law and order, provide protection to its citizens, or deliver justice. The fact that an organization called Ansar-ul-Islam took responsibility for the assassination in order to divert attention away from the state and make it appear as a religiously-motivated attack is even more insidious. Everyone knows that it is not the Taliban or religious outfits that are abducting and killing scores of people in Balochistan; it is the military.
It is also unfortunate that when Nazima Talib or other Punjabi/non-Baloch teachers are killed, there is a hue and cry in the national media about the growing xenophobia and ethnic prejudice in the Baloch national movement. The Baloch response is generally defiant - and rightly so - for they argue: when has Punjab/Punjabis ever protested against the killing of our people? Mutilated bodies of young men are found on the roadside, in the wilderness, virtually on a daily basis in Balochistan now. And we will have to admit, we have been silent.
Please join us tomorrow to condemn Prof. Dashtiari's murder and break this silence.
DATE/TIME: Friday, 3 June 2011, 3:00pm-4:00pm
VENUE: Quaid-e-Azam University Campus, at the Bus Stand (near Medical Center).
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
The 'Islamization' of Pakistan?
Is Pakistani society more conservative now than it was, say, 30 years ago?
This is a question that has been raised a number of times over the last 10 odd years, by analysts, part-time academics, and, generally speaking, left-of-center segments of our population. I write about this particular question today because a year ago, 88 people lost their lives in a terrorist attack on two Ahmadi mosques, and, while the event was in itself a great travesty, societal reaction that followed brought the above stated question into sharp focus. Media channels and several journalists jostled to prove their puritanical credentials, mainly by ensuring ‘proper’ terminology was used both for the deceased as well as the sites of attack, and were accompanied by a not-too-thin veneer of acceptability emanating from urban society in general.
On a number of other occasions, there has been general consensus of opinion that present-day society is a lot more conservative, and is so because of geo-strategic politics, state policy, and the legal framework - especially those parts introduced by General Zia.
As far as general opining is concerned, a broad-based consensus is all that is required to bolster a point or initiate an argument. There is no need for academic frills and fancies, and little need for rigorous statistical verification, especially in dealing with, what is essentially, an attitudinal quality of society. However, this question, if tackled properly, would not only reflect societal behavior, it would also tell us where this behavior grows from and, ultimately, how it can, if needed, be curbed.
Conservative as a standalone quality reveals very little unless or until you attach it to a particular context and a particular form. Politically conservative and economically conservative could mean different things in different parts of the world. However, in Pakistan, and especially in the context of this particular question, conservative signifies an attitude towards religion - largely concerning its practice, enforcement and perpetuation in society, and its subscription as the primary marker of identity.
Secondly, the question, and the generally accepted answer are primarily temporal statements. They rely on the fact that at some point in the past, Pakistan was at a different level of conservatism, and that, if you go by the consensus, this conservatism has been adequately measured and found to be less than where we stand today. This in particular is quite problematic given the fact that no such objective measure can be created, and any judgment passed on the past or present would, at best, rely on nuanced anecdotal evidence.
Thirdly, our conception of Pakistani society is largely limited to our own observational space. We sport not only an urban bias but also a class bias to a certain extent, since our interaction extends, at most, from the lower-middle classes to the upper class.
Given these assumptions and factors in mind, Pakistani society’s relationship with religion has become the subject of debate, not only because of global terrorism and the western media, but also as a symbol of sovereign defiance. Given current discourse, a closer look at the situation will try to enhance our structural understanding of Islam in Pakistan.
Zia’s laws have been in place for a good 25 years now. The objectives resolution and Bhutto’s Islamic injunctions for even longer. Yet, the question of conservatism only gained currency over the last few years, primarily due to the proliferation of social and electronic media. People have become more aware of what others are thinking and it’s easier to find sources of information and discussion that mirror one’s own opinions or stand in complete opposition. So at one level, we judge Pakistani society to be more conservative because we can observe more of society these days than in the past.
Secondly, the proliferation of religious organizations has been ongoing for many years, yet now it seems they’ve had a greater impact on urban society. More and more people from the middle and upper classes are sympathizing with and participating in movements like the Tableeghi-Jamaat and Al-Huda. This remains a definitive marker for the more-conservative camp. The level of involvement in such revivalist movements has been immense, and by my own accounts, most of it is driven by a need to understand ‘true religion’ and to reject our culturally shaped beliefs and practices.
Thirdly, reaction by segments of the middle classes in the aftermath of both the Ahmadi mosque attacks and Salmaan Taseer’s assassination have revealed that people are unwilling to compromise on what they perceive to be religious truths. Refusal by the media and people in general to use the term ‘mosque’ and ‘shaheed’ in the case of the former, and the valorization of Mumtaz Qadri in the latter are strong examples of public defense of religion.
Fourthly, growing anti-Americanism, both against its cultural paradigm, as well as its perception as a threat to Pakistan’s sovereignty and prosperity, is defined in terms of ‘our Islam’ vs. the USA. Whereas previously, this anti-Americanism was largely confined to the Jamaat-i-Islami support base, it now finds itself amongst a larger section of society.
These and other factors on one side provide strong evidence for growing conservatism in Pakistani society. Out of those listed above, three are related to the public domain, while one is based on actual practice of religion.
On the basis of what is observed, especially the 4 markers given above, the collective left-of-center perception is now almost completely homogenous in terms of its situational appraisal: Pakistani society is becoming increasingly conservative.
Historically tracing the evolution of this conservatism has more often than not led to people looking at Bhutto’s pandering of the religious right, Zia’s Islamization program, and the security establishment’s strategic designs, coupled with their grip on public narrative. Such a view would suggest that prior to Zia, urban Pakistan was tolerant, more secular, and decidedly less conservative.
This, as history tells us, was not the case.
Urban Pakistan was much smaller back then but had borne the brunt of a partition, which, all things considered, was principled on communal difference. It had seen anti-Ahmadi riots as early as the 1950’s, and had witnessed the gradual strengthening of religious parties as electoral forces in both Lahore and Karachi. When you look at this from a historical perspective, we can’t be one hundred percent certain about new-born conservatism, but we can – empirically – argue in favor of two things: increasing urbanization and capitalism, and historically embedded principles of communal difference.
The former is what needs to be studied in greater detail. Pakistan has seen urbanization rise from a paltry 14 percent to 35 percent officially, and according to some, 40-45 percent unofficially. Contribution of manufacturing and urban services to the GDP stand at around 74 percent, and the corresponding labor force statistic is around 63 percent. The middle to upper middle consuming class, much discussed, rarely measured, now stands at around 15-20 million by the most conservative estimates.
There is no need for anecdotal evidence to legitimize this reality; it is, and will remain, the absolute truth.
The connection between urbanization and perceived conservatism can be taken as, given statistical constraints, coeval. One has gone up for sure, the other has appeared to grow as well. The tricky bit is trying to prove causation, or at the very least correlation between the two.
One relatively simple way of looking at this is by observing at the question of identity for urban classes, and how this has been tackled in Pakistan.
For the former, academic work on identity formation links it very closely to the emergence of more widespread capitalism, especially of the print variety, and with issues of resource scarcity. As more claimants to power/resources emerge, collectivization occurs around myths, ideologies, and figures.
For the latter, with the identity exigencies of a state like Pakistan, you can sort of understand why Islam gets thrown around in large doses, especially in urban centers where other identities are not prevalent (Lahore vs. Karachi). Instead of looking at the rise of a public Islamic identity as a product of the 80’s, it’s probably a lot more useful to look at it as a direct consequence of the particular narrative adopted in 1947 by a newly-independent state, which has achieved fruition as urban-capitalistic developments become further entrenched.
At this point it is important to differentiate between terrorism, which is practiced on the margins, and conservatism, which is mainstream, and might or might not give space to condone terrorism. The former is disconnected from the currently agreed rules of the game (functioning state, modernist capitalist economy), while the latter wants to work with religion within these very constraints.
This leads us to the second part of this argument. The 4 markers of increased conservatism mentioned at the start, are coupled with a parallel development: i.e., the adoption of a globally prevalent consumerist culture. Since Pakistan has increasingly submerged itself in the global economy, it has also become submerged, through default rather than design, in the culture associated with the world economy. A proximity to the US, both economically and in the media culture, has helped fashion this particular development, which now sees middle class youngsters juggle public proclamations of Islam vs. the West, with a mouthful of McDonalds. Similarly, the demands and the culture of capitalism have encouraged female education and participation in the work force, dismantled biraderi/extended family networks giving way to individual voice and participation, and mainstreamed non-familial cross-gender relationships. All of these are, in essence, far removed from the increased conservatism that is taken as a given.
It is also this particular contradiction, between the markers on one hand, and increased submergence into the culture of the global economy, that could ultimately prove to be vital as far as the spread of Islamization and conservatism in urban society are concerned. The debate now leaves us with 3 possible conclusions. The first is that these contradictions will continue to function the way they currently operate, leaving Pakistan stuck in a perpetual state of hypocritical public proclamations and consumption of global capitalism. The second is that we’ll see the rise of a more fascistic, and culturally more Islamic rise of capitalism (somewhat like Iran). The third is that as the entrenchment and dissemination of capitalism continues, religion will ultimately give way, both in politics and public voice, to the whole scale adoption of the global economic culture of capitalism and consumption.
While the first seems to be the most likely, the other two or any other result can also not be ruled out completely. What remains to be seen is how these various tensions play themselves out in coming years, and whether a more desirable equilibrium can be achieved.
Published as a two-part column in Pakistan Today. Read Part 1 here and Part 2 here
This is a question that has been raised a number of times over the last 10 odd years, by analysts, part-time academics, and, generally speaking, left-of-center segments of our population. I write about this particular question today because a year ago, 88 people lost their lives in a terrorist attack on two Ahmadi mosques, and, while the event was in itself a great travesty, societal reaction that followed brought the above stated question into sharp focus. Media channels and several journalists jostled to prove their puritanical credentials, mainly by ensuring ‘proper’ terminology was used both for the deceased as well as the sites of attack, and were accompanied by a not-too-thin veneer of acceptability emanating from urban society in general.
On a number of other occasions, there has been general consensus of opinion that present-day society is a lot more conservative, and is so because of geo-strategic politics, state policy, and the legal framework - especially those parts introduced by General Zia.
As far as general opining is concerned, a broad-based consensus is all that is required to bolster a point or initiate an argument. There is no need for academic frills and fancies, and little need for rigorous statistical verification, especially in dealing with, what is essentially, an attitudinal quality of society. However, this question, if tackled properly, would not only reflect societal behavior, it would also tell us where this behavior grows from and, ultimately, how it can, if needed, be curbed.
Conservative as a standalone quality reveals very little unless or until you attach it to a particular context and a particular form. Politically conservative and economically conservative could mean different things in different parts of the world. However, in Pakistan, and especially in the context of this particular question, conservative signifies an attitude towards religion - largely concerning its practice, enforcement and perpetuation in society, and its subscription as the primary marker of identity.
Secondly, the question, and the generally accepted answer are primarily temporal statements. They rely on the fact that at some point in the past, Pakistan was at a different level of conservatism, and that, if you go by the consensus, this conservatism has been adequately measured and found to be less than where we stand today. This in particular is quite problematic given the fact that no such objective measure can be created, and any judgment passed on the past or present would, at best, rely on nuanced anecdotal evidence.
Thirdly, our conception of Pakistani society is largely limited to our own observational space. We sport not only an urban bias but also a class bias to a certain extent, since our interaction extends, at most, from the lower-middle classes to the upper class.
Given these assumptions and factors in mind, Pakistani society’s relationship with religion has become the subject of debate, not only because of global terrorism and the western media, but also as a symbol of sovereign defiance. Given current discourse, a closer look at the situation will try to enhance our structural understanding of Islam in Pakistan.
Zia’s laws have been in place for a good 25 years now. The objectives resolution and Bhutto’s Islamic injunctions for even longer. Yet, the question of conservatism only gained currency over the last few years, primarily due to the proliferation of social and electronic media. People have become more aware of what others are thinking and it’s easier to find sources of information and discussion that mirror one’s own opinions or stand in complete opposition. So at one level, we judge Pakistani society to be more conservative because we can observe more of society these days than in the past.
Secondly, the proliferation of religious organizations has been ongoing for many years, yet now it seems they’ve had a greater impact on urban society. More and more people from the middle and upper classes are sympathizing with and participating in movements like the Tableeghi-Jamaat and Al-Huda. This remains a definitive marker for the more-conservative camp. The level of involvement in such revivalist movements has been immense, and by my own accounts, most of it is driven by a need to understand ‘true religion’ and to reject our culturally shaped beliefs and practices.
Thirdly, reaction by segments of the middle classes in the aftermath of both the Ahmadi mosque attacks and Salmaan Taseer’s assassination have revealed that people are unwilling to compromise on what they perceive to be religious truths. Refusal by the media and people in general to use the term ‘mosque’ and ‘shaheed’ in the case of the former, and the valorization of Mumtaz Qadri in the latter are strong examples of public defense of religion.
Fourthly, growing anti-Americanism, both against its cultural paradigm, as well as its perception as a threat to Pakistan’s sovereignty and prosperity, is defined in terms of ‘our Islam’ vs. the USA. Whereas previously, this anti-Americanism was largely confined to the Jamaat-i-Islami support base, it now finds itself amongst a larger section of society.
These and other factors on one side provide strong evidence for growing conservatism in Pakistani society. Out of those listed above, three are related to the public domain, while one is based on actual practice of religion.
On the basis of what is observed, especially the 4 markers given above, the collective left-of-center perception is now almost completely homogenous in terms of its situational appraisal: Pakistani society is becoming increasingly conservative.
Historically tracing the evolution of this conservatism has more often than not led to people looking at Bhutto’s pandering of the religious right, Zia’s Islamization program, and the security establishment’s strategic designs, coupled with their grip on public narrative. Such a view would suggest that prior to Zia, urban Pakistan was tolerant, more secular, and decidedly less conservative.
This, as history tells us, was not the case.
Urban Pakistan was much smaller back then but had borne the brunt of a partition, which, all things considered, was principled on communal difference. It had seen anti-Ahmadi riots as early as the 1950’s, and had witnessed the gradual strengthening of religious parties as electoral forces in both Lahore and Karachi. When you look at this from a historical perspective, we can’t be one hundred percent certain about new-born conservatism, but we can – empirically – argue in favor of two things: increasing urbanization and capitalism, and historically embedded principles of communal difference.
The former is what needs to be studied in greater detail. Pakistan has seen urbanization rise from a paltry 14 percent to 35 percent officially, and according to some, 40-45 percent unofficially. Contribution of manufacturing and urban services to the GDP stand at around 74 percent, and the corresponding labor force statistic is around 63 percent. The middle to upper middle consuming class, much discussed, rarely measured, now stands at around 15-20 million by the most conservative estimates.
There is no need for anecdotal evidence to legitimize this reality; it is, and will remain, the absolute truth.
The connection between urbanization and perceived conservatism can be taken as, given statistical constraints, coeval. One has gone up for sure, the other has appeared to grow as well. The tricky bit is trying to prove causation, or at the very least correlation between the two.
One relatively simple way of looking at this is by observing at the question of identity for urban classes, and how this has been tackled in Pakistan.
For the former, academic work on identity formation links it very closely to the emergence of more widespread capitalism, especially of the print variety, and with issues of resource scarcity. As more claimants to power/resources emerge, collectivization occurs around myths, ideologies, and figures.
For the latter, with the identity exigencies of a state like Pakistan, you can sort of understand why Islam gets thrown around in large doses, especially in urban centers where other identities are not prevalent (Lahore vs. Karachi). Instead of looking at the rise of a public Islamic identity as a product of the 80’s, it’s probably a lot more useful to look at it as a direct consequence of the particular narrative adopted in 1947 by a newly-independent state, which has achieved fruition as urban-capitalistic developments become further entrenched.
At this point it is important to differentiate between terrorism, which is practiced on the margins, and conservatism, which is mainstream, and might or might not give space to condone terrorism. The former is disconnected from the currently agreed rules of the game (functioning state, modernist capitalist economy), while the latter wants to work with religion within these very constraints.
This leads us to the second part of this argument. The 4 markers of increased conservatism mentioned at the start, are coupled with a parallel development: i.e., the adoption of a globally prevalent consumerist culture. Since Pakistan has increasingly submerged itself in the global economy, it has also become submerged, through default rather than design, in the culture associated with the world economy. A proximity to the US, both economically and in the media culture, has helped fashion this particular development, which now sees middle class youngsters juggle public proclamations of Islam vs. the West, with a mouthful of McDonalds. Similarly, the demands and the culture of capitalism have encouraged female education and participation in the work force, dismantled biraderi/extended family networks giving way to individual voice and participation, and mainstreamed non-familial cross-gender relationships. All of these are, in essence, far removed from the increased conservatism that is taken as a given.
It is also this particular contradiction, between the markers on one hand, and increased submergence into the culture of the global economy, that could ultimately prove to be vital as far as the spread of Islamization and conservatism in urban society are concerned. The debate now leaves us with 3 possible conclusions. The first is that these contradictions will continue to function the way they currently operate, leaving Pakistan stuck in a perpetual state of hypocritical public proclamations and consumption of global capitalism. The second is that we’ll see the rise of a more fascistic, and culturally more Islamic rise of capitalism (somewhat like Iran). The third is that as the entrenchment and dissemination of capitalism continues, religion will ultimately give way, both in politics and public voice, to the whole scale adoption of the global economic culture of capitalism and consumption.
While the first seems to be the most likely, the other two or any other result can also not be ruled out completely. What remains to be seen is how these various tensions play themselves out in coming years, and whether a more desirable equilibrium can be achieved.
Published as a two-part column in Pakistan Today. Read Part 1 here and Part 2 here
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)