Daily Times

They can appeal to a nation’s better instincts or give rise to its worst unfounded fears. We should not tolerate the rhetoric of violence in society. If unchecked, the growing mob mentality seen in Karachi can lead to our self-destruction. Just as fear stifles thinking of an individual, so a country comes to be self-immolating by burning itself up in hate rather than harnessing the promise of its collective strength. That is a perilous path, but it is one that Karachi experienced with violent and lethal outcomes after the attack on some media offices.

There is little need to recount the countless incendiary statements made by the UK-based Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) leader over the last few months. His words combine cunning and brutality, giving his audiences a licence to hate and commit acts of violence. His recent threats to retaliate hint at a frightening expansion of this disturbing trend, and some observers fear violence both with and without the London-based MQM office shutting itself from making final decisions in Karachi. Is this the future of the MQM in Pakistan’s politics? Ideology is not the issue here. People are free to support whichever philosophical solution to current problems they choose. But people should never tolerate violence as a part of the political process. This has to be a nation ruled by laws, not strongmen. It is not politicians alone who are creating a society that may destroy itself through fear, hate and anger and the suffering that ensues. It is how violence underlies the hidden policy outlook of so many other politicians and political parties alike. Given that violence and genocide were the basis of independence from colonisation, it should be no surprise that hate and brutality lie just under the surface of our so-called civil society. This country’s second original sin lies in the poor institution of democracy, which is also built into the foundation of capitalistic supremacy, the very fact on which this country was not built.

When politicians are inciting mob violence, there are a lot of memories that people have. People remember mob violence that led to lynching, and people remember mob violence that led to people being shot, being grabbed, being mistreated. It is something that has a deep, psychological resonance to people who have ever been in any position somewhat fearful, somewhat worried. The National Action Plan should ensure it that violence has no place in Pakistani politics.

The psychological relationship between the MQM leader and his audience looks, at first glance, to be exclusively top down. Altaf Hussain speaks, and then the masses erupt. That certainly seems to be how COAS General Raheel Shareef, Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif, Pakistan Tehreek — Insaf leader Imran Khan and nation see it. All of them have accused Hussain of inciting violence, and DG Rangers Major General Naveed Akhtar has reassured that there is no place for a national leader to prey on the fears of people.

But there are hints, particularly in political circles, that something more complex is happening. As much as Hussain shapes the feelings and behaviour of his followers, it is also probable that some of his followers are shaping him. The masses get bored, and then Altaf Hussain explodes. He is not alone. Political rallies of all stripes including Imran Khan, Dr Tahir-ul-Qadri, and even Chief Minister Shehbaz Sharif almost certainly has been involved in this sort of feedback loop. And they all deny taking any responsibility, even though strong memories exist to document the evidence of it.

This proposed symbiotic relationship between leaders and followers is based on an idea called emotional contagion. Our tendency to unconsciously mimic the outward expression of other people’s emotions until, inevitably, we begin to feel what they are feeling. It happens automatically. Despite the paucity of evidence, emotional contagion flows both ways — top down and bottom up.

When politicians are in front of a roaring crowd, the emotion they feel in return from that crowd is incredibly powerful, and they have to consciously regulate their selves to have it not happen. The politician sets an emotional tone that is picked up by the crowd, which expresses its own emotional state that the politician responds to. On both sides, the emotional mimicry has an influence on behavioural choices.

When a politician knows that he is losing his audience, and that talking about revenge will bring them back, the interaction could be seen as an expression of emotional contagion in action. From this perspective, Hussain’s use of violent rhetoric is not just something he is forcing on an easily manipulated mob. They respond to him. But he also responds to them. And they build up each other’s feelings of excitement and anger. Given the important role of bottom-up emotional contagion, people also get involved because it is also a function of our cultural belief in the ideal that leaders have all the power, that they are the ones running the show, although without the followers the leader is nothing.

Blaming mental health problems for inciting violence gives the public the false impression that most people with a mental illness are dangerous, when in fact a vast majority will never commit violence. Yet one large taboo remains stubbornly fixed — mental illness. Sure, it is part of the discourse these days whether Hussain has mental health problems. For a politician to publicly admit having stressed out would likely be far more politically damaging. It can create a crisis of confidence, and the party itself can face an almost insurmountable political problem.

Mental illness is probably more common in politicians than the public knows or wants to believe. Which raises the question: when roughly a fifth of Pakistani population use medication for their mental health, why shouldn’t the politicians of the country be able to as well? Nevertheless, many politicians have historically grappled with milder symptoms, powerful mood swings, depression and anxiety while serving in office. Those afflictions can be exacerbated by the stress of the job. While people are still trying to understand the underlying stress admitted by Altaf Hussain they are only partly convinced that stress can cause such extreme feelings of grief, concern and disappointment to become something more unbalanced.

The writer is a professor of psychiatry and consultant forensic psychiatrist in the UK. He can be contacted at fawad_shifa@yahoo.com