Daily Times

It’s kind of corny. It comes from the family, one of those tales you find in sentimental, memory-based accounts of the events of 1947. But here it is. It was August in Amritsar. And yes, there was a lot of violence, hell turned inside out. Most of the family made it to the border and reached the refugee camp in Lahore. The elders recall the early days when they were reliant on the philanthropy of the residents of their adopted city for food. Not having any crockery, they took rice in their shawls and ate with their hands. There was little drinking water available, the new government was slow in allotting residential quarters, and things were getting tougher and grittier every day. But that’s not what they were complaining about. Marauding Sikhs had gotten hold of the eldest brother (Muslims were doing pretty much the same to Hindus in the areas they dominated). He was still in Amritsar, if he was alive. The aging patriarch fell ill over the almost certain loss of his firstborn son. Then — it gets pretty dramatic here — he turned up from nowhere. For some reason, the men had been locked up in a makeshift cell to be executed the next morning, he related. There was a terrible storm. The Sikh watchman dozed off in the middle of the night. One of the prisoners — it gets even more dramatic here — managed to pull the keys from the watchman’s pocket. And then they ran. And while they ran, they thought only of Pakistan. It meant the world to them, a promise they wished to embrace.

By now the Panama Papers has been written and talked about ad infinitum. The tale above has something to do with it, and a lot that has nothing to do with it. During a conversation with an analyst and writer in a professor’s office — yes, that can still happen on rare occasions — she related her attendance at a court hearing, and commented that Pakistan was in fact ‘loot-istan’ for all and sundry. Everyone thinks they can plunder as if that constituted the raison d’être for the country. While I’m sure she meant it sarcastically, what if there is some truth to it — the suggestion that most of us believe somewhere deep down within that we got this country from the imperial English and the conniving Hindus to eat to the bones and suck to the marrow? Like the Biblical Promised Land, this land was ‘ours’ to take, in ways that diverge bizarrely from the Biblical account. And, please, let’s not say it’s just the politicians and their rotten ways. It’s us — all of us — each nibbling on some part of the bone.

Your typical aam admi (ordinary man), the decent peace-loving family-guy-next-door, will usually be found to be evading his taxes, flirting with the electric power supply, paying the LESCO line-man to decelerate his electricity meter, encroaching on that extra marla of land from whichever side possible, devaluing his property on its official registry, and raising hell if government plans to demolish his house to make way for another bridge, bus, or life-enhancing red, green or orange project. He wails and mourns because government reimburses the amount mentioned on the official registry, and we know that amount was significantly deflated to evade property tax when the decent, peaceful family-guy-next-door erected his abode.

Your typical government official, civil or military, makes good use of the state’s resources. Government vehicles, fuel, GOR houses, ‘contacts’, and a lot more. A student of mine comes to university on a shining white car with a valued green number-plate and a police siren on the roof. I presume it was given to daddy by the force, but doubt if the rules say it can be used for the riding pleasure of the prince charming. He’s a nice chap otherwise, but who in their right mind would refuse a shining white car with a green number plate? Daddy earned it when he was promoted to BPS 20. In fact, daddy earned it when he topped the civil service examination long ago. Isn’t that why we got this country?

There was the ephedrine scandal not too long ago. Then the Hajj scam. And the Oil and Gas Regulatory Authority (OGRA) scandal. Two prime ministers were removed by the intervention of the superior judiciary. Their scions were implicated. The Federal Investigation Agency and the National Accountability Bureau were tasked with investigating into the alleged wrongdoings. Earlier this year, the Defence Housing Authority scam. Lots of TV headlines. Nothing came through on any instance. It is time for a new headline now: the Panama Papers.

Doesn’t it all make a bit more sense now? Why do judicial commissions never fix responsibility? Why can’t binding verdicts ever be delivered? Why is the evidence always lacking? Why are hearings always adjourned? Why doesn’t anybody who got away with billions ever punished? Why does life go on as usual after every Hajj, DHA, OGRA and Panama scam? Maybe, it is because that’s what Pakistan means to us now. It’s loot-istan. Make off with whatever you can.

There are still people who relate the events of 1947. Soon there will be no survivors left. The generations that witness the completion of the next Orange or Purple Line project will probably have no idea of what it meant to those who ran on the night of the storm in Amritsar, or those thousands who eked out an existence in the refugee camps, or those millions who died for a promise.

The writer is a lecturer in English Literature at Government College University, Lahore. He can be reached at sameeropinion@gmail.com