Daily Times

In liberal democratic theory, the individual is the central figure. He has primacy over society and state, which he and his fellows have created to meet needs and problems that they cannot resolve individually. He has placed limitations on their functional jurisdiction and reserved to himself whatever he has not assigned to them. These get to be known as his fundamental rights. Their abridgement by a government becomes a casus belli. The rights more generally asserted are those to life, liberty, property, pursuit of happiness, choice of one’s beliefs and opinions, free speech, assembly and protest against unjust rulers.

In a civilised society the assertion of rights should be accompanied by the acceptance of corresponding obligations. While there is much talk of rights, not a whole lot is said about obligations. One may ask what some of these obligations are. We stand for the primacy of law to exclude arbitrariness in governance. It follows that in our own conduct we must respect the law. That gives rise to intriguing questions. Is there such a thing as an unjust or bad law and, if there is, how do we respond to it? In Islamic as well as Anglo-Saxon jurisprudence, there is no such thing as justice independently of law. God is supremely just and therefore so is His law. In the Anglo-Saxon tradition, the sovereign can do no wrong and his law likewise cannot be unjust. If a law is nevertheless bad, it must still be obeyed and efforts made to repeal or amend it. Another school of thought, led by Henry David Thoreau, holds that any law in the making of which the individual does not participate, or of which he disapproves, need not be obeyed. Thoreau is essentially arguing for anarchism and his advocacy may therefore be set aside.

People in Pakistan are generally inclined to honour our organs of speedy justice such as the tribal jirga and the rural panchayat. They have personal association with fellow tribesmen and neighbours in their village. The source of the law, however, is the state, which is a hypothetical entity. It is an idea. It may be more useful to think of the government that is an agent of the state. Persons who operate the government at the municipal level are usually known to their constituents. Rules and regulations made, and even taxes levied by them will likely be well received by their voters. The same is not the case with the government at the capital, which is distant and remote from those upon whom the laws it makes operate. The people will not have the same readiness to obey its laws, especially if they impose deprivations instead of bestowing benefits. Generally speaking, respect for the law is not a common component of the Pakistani civic culture.

Folks in Pakistan want a government to protect their lives and property and deliver certain services. The government’s performance of these functions costs money and the people provide it, even if reluctantly, by paying taxes. Taxes are among the most unwanted obligations. Many citizens will understate their income and overstate their deductable outlays while filing their tax returns. They will also take as much advantage as possible of any loopholes that may have been left in the relevant law. The obligation to support the government, which they have set up to serve them, is thus evaded much too often.

Telling the truth and keeping one’s promises are universally acknowledged obligations. But these are not without an element of ambiguity. There is first the question of who wants to know and whether he is entitled to know the truth of a given matter. There can be little doubt that in a democracy the people have the right to know the truth about the current state of affairs and the government’s doings. In many cases governments all over the world tell their people less than the whole truth. The difference between them in this regard is one of degree and not one of kind. In Pakistan the commitment of the government and politicians at large to tell their constituents the truth of various matters is extremely infirm. The same goes for the promises they make. They will not say what they think and they will not do what they say. Prime Minister Gilani’s government has earned notoriety on both counts. It makes promises that it knows it is not going to keep. Its mentor, President Asif Zardari, is on record as saying that promises are not like the Quran and Sunnah, which cannot be violated. They may be broken when that course of action is found to be expedient. His government’s efforts to suppress the truth fail at times, but that is because our media people are alert and so very competent.

Representatives in the assemblies have been sent there by the people to serve the public interest. The people may have identified their interests. If a representative belongs to Edmund Burke’s school, he may decide that they do not know what their real interests are and that it is for him to figure them out. In either case, he is to serve their interests for the most part and not his own. It costs several million rupees to contest an election for a seat in parliament. There are several reasons why a man would want to get elected. It adds to his prestige in his hometown; it gives him nearly Rs 50,000 in pay and allowances every month in addition to numerous other perquisites; it gives him a measure of influence with the higher bureaucracy, which enables him to do errands for his constituents. He is expected to work in the afternoons and evenings for 120 days in a year. In fact, he does not put in more than a small fraction of the required number of hours. Almost every day the Speaker of the National Assembly has to adjourn the House because of a lack of quorum. It is evident that a great majority of the MNAs are not fulfilling their obligations in connection with making laws and policies and overseeing the executives’ performance.

The writer, professor emeritus at the University of Massachusetts, is a visiting professor at the Lahore School of Economics