Daily Times

I am not a political activist. However, as a young person I was involved in student protests, consumed moderate amounts of tear gas but always managed to ‘withdraw’ when confronted by a police lathi charge. My attitude to any confrontation with the forces of law was always based on the adage that ‘he who runs away lives to fight another day’.
Here I must admit that I was never committed enough to any particular ideology to fight and if possible suffer bodily harm for it, though I did admire those that were capable of such enthusiasm. Fortunately for me I developed my political sensibilities at a time when ‘flower power’ ruled the roost and the slogan that most inspired the likes of me was ‘make love not war’.
And after seeing what happened to some very famous lawyers on Saturday, September 29, I have decided to totally nip in the bud any idea of involvement in such affairs as being extremely detrimental to my health and physical well being.
But I have wondered recently whether it might not be fun or at least moderately diverting to be hauled off to jail for a day or two every so often. No, no, I am no Nelson Mandela but I wouldn’t mind being an Imran Khan.
I will never even get close to the good looks of Mr Imran Khan, nor have the fame he has had in cricket. But I was most impressed when I read a recent news report in a local paper that the Punjab Police raided his house four times in one day in an attempt to arrest him. Here I must admit that Punjab Police, unlike The Mounties, is not known for getting “their man”.
Most likely Mr Imran Khan was in a television studio recording a program where he was vituperating against the government while the Punjab Police were repeatedly raiding his home to find him. Whether the lack of success of these multiple attempts at trying to apprehend him was intentional is important. Nevertheless I am trying to figure out a way of spending one day in a jail as a political prisoner and becoming a national hero thereafter.
The major problem I do have with going to jail is that what if it is for more than a few days and I don’t become a national hero even then. Reminds me of an under-reported case of a bureaucrat arrested by NAB in the early days of the Musharraf regime. Evidently the NAB guys just forgot all about him and he languished in jail for quite some time until somebody remembered him and let him go.
Being an unimportant sort of a person, my fate is likely to be that of the unfortunate bureaucrat. So, my road to fame and political prominence is severely obstructed by my present lack of fame, political prominence and financial resources. Based upon my understanding of the political scenario as it exists today, the road to political prominence requires expenditures of considerable amounts of money, something that I presently do not possess.
If, however, I had the money, I could have bought at least a seat in the provincial assembly and then bought a ministry. Thereafter, using the ministry, I would have recouped my expenditures many times over in a short period of time and would have enough money to spend on those that transform common people into well known personalities almost overnight. Clearly with all my money, I would be able to get more than the famous ‘fifteen minutes’ of fame. But then as one of my friends often says, it ain’t gonna happen.
The other road to political good fortune as I have learned during the last few years in Pakistan is through marriage. Sadly, my wife, brilliant and beautiful that she is, is of no value in Pakistani politics. Moreover over my children, smart and good looking as they are, happen to be Americans who under no circumstances will accept getting married to some mediocrity just to advance my political career.
That leaves me friends and contemporaries that might be willing to help me with my political career. Here again I am in a quandary. As I have found out, in Pakistan, life is all about quid pro quo. Having no ‘quids’ to offer there is no ‘quo’ that I can receive! Drat! So what to do in such an environment? Indeed I do have some influential friends, but they do tend to disregard my political aspirations.
I keep trying to make my friends understand that in an interim set up, my appointment would be good for the country. After all, I am entirely honest, never took a bribe or gave one and have done a good job in my present position in spite of overwhelming odds. But, they keep ignoring me. And I do understand why they do it, because they think that a person like me would never fit in.
But then what about the poor country? Having spent some time in Pakistan, I know for a fact that most politicians around deserve to be sent back to school to learn Urdu, English, Punjabi (or any language of their area) and, of course, the basic concepts of politics, economics, and sociology.
After all, how many of our ministers in the federal and state governments have any idea about supply-side economics, trickle-down economics or, heaven forbid, the Laffer Curve. And I do not even wish to mention quantum mechanics and the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle.
Clearly it is unlikely that I will ever become an interim minister. I hold no hereditary seat in a Sufi system, and General Musharraf has never heard of me. Moreover, I am not and unlikely ever will become a well-known person. So, my country will never be in a position to avail of my services, and I am doomed to eternal obscurity!

Syed Mansoor Hussain has practised and taught medicine in the US. He can be reached at smhmbbs70@yahoo.com