During the few weeks I spent in the US, one of the things I noticed was that ‘facial hair’ is making a comeback. Three major movie stars, George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Johnny Depp are often seen in public sporting facial hair. Even among contributors to the esteemed The New York Times op-ed pages, Tom Freedman has a rather ‘Punjabi’ style moustache, Andrew Rosenthal the op-ed page editor, Paul Krugman the Nobel laureate and liberal economist and Ross Douthat, a conservative writer, all have beards as well as moustaches. However, this trend towards facial hair has not ‘infected’ the American political landscape yet. There has been no US president in the last hundred years with facial hair. The only person that came close was Dewey who lost ‘unexpectedly’ to Truman in 1948, and there are some who think that it was Dewey’s moustache that cost him the election. The ‘beat’ generation followed by the ‘hippies’ and eventually the ‘pinko’ types made a relatively dishevelled look the ‘in’ thing. Facial hair became identified with members of the liberal left. This led to a counter-movement of the ‘clean cut’ young men representing ‘traditional values’. Even we in Pakistan were not entirely immune to these developments and many of us as students during the 1960s and the 1970s grew long hair, droopy moustaches and even ‘Che’ style beards. Interestingly, during those years supporters of the Islamist parties in Pakistan were mostly clean-shaven. A lifetime later, things are more settled and facial hair is now more predictable, at least in Pakistan. For all practical purposes, depending on the style and quantity of facial hair they have, people can be divided into four categories. First, we have what I will call the ones with a ‘full monty’. This is a moustache and a full beard that other than the tribal sorts is almost entirely restricted to those that are imbued with excessive religiosity or else with an overwhelming need to impress people around them with their piety. Even among these, the ‘length’ of hair above the upper lip does provide some indication of a particular religious predilection. The second group consists of people like me who grew facial hair in our youth as a ‘statement’ of sorts but by now have become so used to it that they continue to live with this arrangement. For instance I resist the idea of shaving off my once jet black and luxuriant moustache for fear that people I know would no longer be able recognise me. Now I just trim it like President Zardari, whose flamboyant moustache of yesteryear is now little more than a stubble on his upper lip. The third group is of those that really believe in the decorative value of facial hair, especially the moustache. Of these the most prominent member in our political spectrum is the federal minister for load shedding. Clearly he spends much time and effort in maintaining his splendiferous moustache in the so called ‘handlebar’ style. Though I must admit to a sneaking wonderment that if he spent as much time running the department under his control as he does on keeping his moustache in its glory, could we possibly have a little less load shedding than we do at this time? In the fourth group are those who believe that a thick moustache with ‘twirlable’ ends is a sign of virility and ‘macho’ manhood. This is best described by two evocative Punjabi sayings that obviously make much better sense in the vernacular. First, “Much naheen tai kuch nahin” (no moustache, no manhood) and second, “Much jawani da mandair hai” (moustache is the platform on which stands our youth). Members of this group even when their youth is a thing of the past keep up appearances by dyeing their moustaches an unnatural jet black. The unfortunate consequence is that they then also have to dye their hair an unnatural black. As an observer of the political scene, I must comment on the relationship between the behaviour of our leaders and their style of facial adornment. Here we must ignore all the minor actors that infect the political scene. Of all the governors of West Pakistan (or what is now all of Pakistan), Malik Amir Mohammad Khan of Kalabagh had one of the most impressive moustaches, so much so that he was often just called ‘Much’ (the moustache) and he was arguably the toughest and possibly the most dictatorial administrator of all those that ever held that or similar positions. Our minimally moustachioed present chief minister of the Punjab is a neophyte compared to him. Prime Minister Gilani is the first ‘elected’ PM of Pakistan to have a luxuriant growth on his upper lip, though his ability to demonstrate significant macho tendencies was perhaps inhibited by having to govern under the shadow of a president that had a moustache even more impressive than his own. However, ever since the president trimmed his moustache, the PM has slowly but surely started to behave a bit more aggressively than he did in the earlier part of his tenure. This should also be a warning for clean-shaven types including Mian Sahib and Imran Khan that wish to replace him in the next elections. The most interesting artefact of Pakistani history is however the state of the ‘moustache’ of the past and present chiefs of the army. As is being pointed out in many Pakistani internet chat rooms, of all the army generals, the only three that ever dismissed civilian governments and took over were the only three with moustaches! And yes, the only chief justice in the history of Pakistan that had the gumption to stand up to an army dictator that tried to fire him has a moustache more ‘macho’ than that of the aforementioned military dictator. Perhaps then a word of advice for our civilian leaders: never appoint a moustachioed chief of the army staff or a chief justice if you wish to govern in peace. The writer has practiced and taught medicine in the US. He can be reached at smhmbbs@yahoo.com