The burden of nobility

Author: Mehboob Qadir

A new breed of genetically engineered, flashy men and women who crave positions of prominence and authority without the ability and desire to shoulder and carry the burden of corresponding nobility and grace, has alarmingly begun to mushroom in our country. A decade or two ago, this particular variety was bred in glass houses under controlled weather conditions and then marketed as premium quality leadership material, only to be found out once they buckled ignominiously under political, military or similar pressure of events. These days their nurseries have become many and the local breeding environment more conducive for their commercial growth. Or maybe people have become too gullible and thus open to manipulation by spurious leadership clones taking them for a ride again and again: These men are cheeky, smooth in some cases, impervious to logic and invariably free from any constraints of inconvenient reasonable conduct.

Let us agree that to hold a position of public authority, a certain nobility of thought and action are necessary. Much against the established perception, it is not limited to high profile positions, nor the concept of nobility restricted to aristocracy only. Aristocracy and noble conduct were pushed into each other as high aristocrats in olden times led their followers and were habitually adjudged for their actions by historians and men of letters, besides common people. Folklore, culture and social system supported this classic construct as it had worked since centuries and all over the world. There was no other model. Alexander the Great, Darius, Changez Khan, Saladin, Richard the Lion Heart, Babur, Prithvi Raj, Ashok, Kanishk and what have you, all were elevated by the same system.

The age of information and media have opened the field to all kinds of aspirants. The stage is wide and the canvas huge. Education and greater access to opportunity have brought about a transformation adding value to even ordinary positions. From a junior managerial slot to the highest office, one character quality that is universally sought and expected is the ability and will to carry the responsibility of the position. Skill and sense of occasion come next. These three pillars of personality have to be embedded in integrity. For others, all of this translates into predictability, the flagstone of all dealings, in any field including robbery, if you like. Robbers and integrity? Astonishing, but not really. It is critical for the gang to be able to measure exactly the others’ ability and dependability. However, there is a difference between a dacoit’s dependability and a clean man’s integrity. A dacoit wears it for a period but not a leader of men. His integrity has to be integral to his character.

Pakistan is stuck with a difficult situation in this regard. Our expectations are a mismatch between what we would like to have and what is given to us. We want honest, upright men in our hour of crisis. We get phoney, dishonest and slippery characters, which can only push the country into one mess after the other. We have another accompanying class too, whose sole business it is to cry in chorus over spilt milk and a phobic fear of intrigues. Our rumour mills, in any case, hardly have vision enough to present any worthwhile debate except egg beat fears of shoddy men in the revolving doors of state power. These men have a remarkably unabashed agenda. Do everything to get into power and then use every trick in the bag to retain the same; irritating demands of dignity and character do not matter.

Dignity and these petty men is a cruel joke. Law, constitution, self-respect and country all blur into non-entities when it comes to self-preservation and safety of the wealth they have plundered. In this sordid crowd, there is hardly any difference left between both sides of the fence. In fact, there is no fence left. It was a needless sophistication to allow them 30 seconds of dignity. It was even more wasteful to refer to Kahlil Gibran. Squalid street thugs and their pet poodles could not care less what the likes of Kahlil Gibran, Saadi Shirazi, Hafiz, Iqbal or Goethe have to say. They have their eyes glued to your pocket and ears towards the growling rival pack in the side street. Even if 30 years were allowed, they would not have risen above their master’s stirrups. But the learned men perhaps did not realise that these creepy creatures who have lived on alms and charity of others for generations have no spine. They have no bite, only the bark. With them, decorum and conscience are a wastage of business time.

As the story goes, in the times of Caliph Omar, a governor of a city in Syria became increasingly unpopular among people. Caliph Omar travelled to Syria and asked the governor to appear before the open court next day. People gathered in the city square. The charges were read out. What follows is a possible approximation of the historic proceedings of the case. First charge: the governor is late coming to office, which wastes precious time of the people.

Governor: I have no servant, therefore I have to knead the flour, wait for it to soften, bake my bread and then leave for office. This takes some time, which is why I get late.

Second charge: the governor locks himself in on Fridays and only appears at noontime for prayers. That wastes the whole working day.

Governor: I have only one pair of clothes, which I wash on Fridays, wait as they dry up, wear them just in time for the Friday prayers. I cannot afford another pair.

Third charge: the governor suffers from bouts of madness once a year. He does not attend office that day and cries like mad at home.

The governor then requested to be relieved of his public duty after the answer and then said, “When newly converted Musaab bin Umair was being tortured at Mecca, I was among those youngsters who had gathered around the place, making fun of his cries of pain. Whenever that day arrives, I am gripped by the fear if ever I would be forgiven that sin. That day I beg God’s forgiveness.”

Nothing even remotely like that here in our unfortunate country and a bonded nation. Fear of God, grace, propriety, financial honesty and what is right or wrong is beyond these contemptible men. Have the yard upon yard of flower bouquets that adorn their tables for routine meetings been noticed? What good have they done for the people the funfair is about? Their degenerate tastes can be seen from the gold painted royal chairs that they like to sit on for their media interviews, huge lengths of Persian carpets, vulgarly priced designer clothes, astronomically expensive cars and lavish living. There are signs and stench of enormous decomposing. These very small men are tired of carrying the burden of nobility so undeservedly thrust upon them; their fellow camp followers, court jesters, horse grooms and masseurs had none already. From a pathetic bunch of morally impoverished men and women so thoroughly minimised in mind and heart, what else can you expect?

The writer is a retired brigadier of the Pakistan Army and can be reached at clay.potter@hotmail.com

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