Pakistani television abounds on cable news networks. This means that the airwaves are dominated by hourly news headlines, current affairs analyses and political talk shows. It is also largely true that cable news channels do not always abide by professional principles of relaying developments without ‘shaping’ them. But that is something even the BBC and CNN cannot be absolved of, right? Right! More on them in a later piece but, for now, let us just say that with media outlets like the BBC and CNN, ideological inclinations are not so overt and ‘input’ from powerful quarters not as blatant as it is here. Second, unlike foreign news channels, most mainstream channels here carry the stamp of the media moguls who own the networks. Who decides what goes on air?Not professional journalists or news directors but the CEOs. The third factor is a gentleman –and what would our television be without him– the all-knowing, self-appointed crusader for the truth cum messiah-journalist (there are a handful of these actually). This fellow has spent a career writing sagacious op-eds in the country’s front-ranking dailies and has now descended on the television screen to be hosted by a young lady who, since she knows precious little about what is going on around her, simply performs the feat of reading out questions from cue cards while trying to look naïve and sound cute. This helps in accentuating the contrast between the assertive sage and the awe-struck host. The messiah-journalist is here to impart wisdom through his quotes from dubious history books, simplistic generalisations and folk wisdom. Occasionally, the cowed little host will ask a silly question and the crusader will work up a choreographed fit of righteous indignation. Consequently, we have round the clock emotion-ridden, obscurantist rhetoric. Some of it goes like this. “They are out to get us.” From a large number of television presenters and experts, we learn that the world is out to get us. Behind most acts of violence, political upheaval and high-profile assassinations, there is the ubiquitous hand of ‘foreign agents’. This is mostly referred to as the bairooni haath in Urdu, which approximates to ‘the enemy’s footprint’. It is true that western countries spend billions on spying on foreign governments. They have been known to depose elected leaders, to install proxy governments and wreak havoc in the world. Not all conspiracy theories are conspiracy theories. Governments are usually two-faced. They talk democracy, human rights, equality before the law and so on but behind closed doors everything goes. However, it is wrong to assume that everything that has ever gone wrong is the result of a hideous unending conspiracy. The US, India and Israel do not tell us to neglect public health, potable water and education. They cannot force us to not tax big business. They do not inspire us to promote mediocrity in our universities. We achieve all of that — and more — ourselves. What the bairooni haath refrain reflects is a mindset that is unwilling to concede that there is something seriously wrong internally. To such a mind, since ‘we’ are not capable of the heinous crimes that occur on a national scale, the evil that takes place must be externalised to malicious foreign organisations. This has prevented much-needed introspection and will continue to do so in the conceivable future. “The people are watching.” You hear this on television a lot. Not just from politicians waxing lyrical but talk show hosts, especially current affairs pundits. The popular Urdu refrain is “qaum daikh rahi hai, qaum faisla karay gee”(the people are watching, the people will decide). The people do have a say in who governs them when it is time to vote but elections in Pakistan leave a lot to be desired. First of all, there is the argument that the will of the people, translated into electoral victory for a political party, has often been thwarted through the disruption of civilian rule and frequent imposition of martial law. On occasions when it has been deemed prescient to let the civilians rule, electoral alliances have been cobbled up incognito. Going by the Supreme Court (SC) verdict in the Asghar Khan case, we know that in the past, the taxpayers’ money was used to forge political alliances (the IJI in 1988) to thwart a political party’s predicted victory. Political governments have also been destabilised and/or pressurised into submission midway through their terms in office. The people do not see. If they do, they pretend they did not. “The nation is vigilant.” Qaum zinda hai. Throughout Pakistan’s political history, the people have largely been docile when it comes to representative government and constitutional matters (except the Lawyers’ Movement but that too was launched in the 10th year of a dictatorship). We Pakistanis quietly accept removal of elected governments. We also rarely exhibit democratic vigilance during civilian governments and hardly ever hold political leaders accountable for their misdeeds. Lahore’s skewed infrastructure development is a case in point. Billions are being spent on widening uptown thoroughfares that hardly need widening, in addition to constructing a combination of underpasses and flyovers in posh localities.The metro bus is a welcome addition towards developing efficient commuter services and deserves to be appreciated but the congested downtown lies in utter neglect. Similarly, sporadic protests by a dozen or so civil society members have not been enough to alter the government’s plans for constructing a bridge near the Chauburji monument. In rural Sindh, the people have been electing hereditary feudal lords for ages and, in urban Sindh, the vote banks of certain political parties remain intact, despite serious, and not altogether unfounded, allegations of extortion and violence having been levelled against them. The only instances of spirited (and violent) public pressure are observed when roads are blocked, things set ablaze to protest against power outages and custodial killings or deaths caused by medical negligence at public hospitals. Otherwise, the qaum is rarely ever zinda (vigilant). The sair-hasil guftagu. Concluding the debate, talk show presenters announce the end of the programme by reciting the clichéd phrase that approximates to: “We have had a rigorous session of thought-provoking debate. We hope you will be able to make the best of what was offered. We will bring you more in tomorrow’s episode.”And they do. So stay tuned for more lies. The writer is a lecturer in English Literature at Government College University, Lahore. He may be reached at sameeropinion@gmail.com