‘Z A Bhutto hanged, buried in Naudero.’ This was the first sentence of my first-ever op-ed in December 2011. My elementary school mind in 1979 couldn’t grasp the enormity of the act that shadowed headlines in badly-printed newspapers and darkened screens of grainy, black and white television screens. All I remember feeling was a confusing sadness partly compounded by my mother’s huge grief at what later came to be uncomfortably addressed as the judicial murder of a much loved prime minister of Pakistan. To me Bhutto’s hanging had a context, a background, a face and a name. General Ziaul Haq. To my unformed mind, he stood for all that was wrong with my country that at that time contorted into wails of mourning for Bhutto all across Pakistan.
Pakistan and its war in 1965.Its cleaving into half in 1972. Its allying in the US’s war in Afghanistan in the early 1980s. Its strategic depth. Its forced ‘Islamisation.’ Its Kargil debacle. Its 1998 ouster of the elected prime minister. Its flawed foreign policies vis-à-vis its immediate neighbours. And in my mind there was one unifying factor contextualising the mess Pakistan was: the face of one army general replacing the other. A befuddling circle from General Ziaul Haq to General Pervez Musharraf, while bemoaning the ineptness of a series of elected prime ministers, it was always a man in uniform who could be blamed for the mess my beautiful but flawed homeland was.
I don’t represent a media house or a political party. My opinions are not agenda-based, my opinions are not to elicit a reaction of any form. I write merely as a Pakistani whose deep love for her country makes her wonder how despite being what it is — a land of promise, potential and plenty — Pakistan today stands at a crossroads with destination unknown. I wonder how we have reached this point of international irrelevance — the Riyadh Summit instead of working as an eye-opener will end up being a mere PML-N promotion headline and Maryam Nawaz Sharif’s tweeting delight — existing as a giant country sans any long term domestic, regional and international outlook and policies.
And then there is internal ‘dissent.’ And the efforts to ‘curb’ it. Social media is enraged at the FIA’s ‘questioning’ of social media ‘activists.’ The PTI is fighting the battle of freeing the activists while the PML-N glancing sideways hopes its virtual lions will be saved along with the hyaenas of other parties or those in search of a party to latch on to, or leech off of. And the usual bashing from angry whispers catapults into a cacophony of voices: twitterati, human rights organisations, talk show anchors, op-ed writers, smart alecs, perennial cynics, overseas critics and ordinary mortals have a new topic. How to save Pakistan’s freedom of expression from the civilian-hungry jaws of the big bad villain: the army of Pakistan. This time flexing its muscle through FIA.
To safeguard the “national security” the fundamental rights of people are being crushed. People are not allowed to express themselves. There is no denying the relevance, the significance, the urgency that comes with fighting this war. It has to be waged for Pakistan to keep its patina of democracy from peeling like layers of yellow paint on an old colonial bungalow.
No one should be banned for expressing an opinion no matter how distasteful. Barring incitement to violence though propagation of hate and bigotry, freedom of expression should remain subjective, not a tool the state could hurt you with.
But then… without much ado, the fight becomes uni-dimensional, its context losing track of its nobility of purpose as the “enemy” narrows into the one in uniform. The khaki of the army, without much effort, superimposes on the blue of FIA. The army becomes the usual bogeyman, the entity to hate, the punching bag to unleash bottled-up anger on. Shoved aside is the explanation that as long as opinions are merely opinion, their velocity and intensity are allowed to spread and affect. An organised campaign to undermine the office of the COAS — who accepts the supremacy of the office of the prime minister — and efforts to incite action against the armed forces is being monitored, and action has been taken against that. Primarily.
Sacrifices of countless men in uniform are forgotten, turning their high command into a band of mercenaries for whom patriotism is self-advancement and national security a ploy to keep their cosy positions firewalled from any questioning
But . . .
While a few social media activists are being eulogised, the bashing of the other entity is still in perpetuity. Millions of nameless, faceless soldiers and officers who devote their lives to protecting the borders keeping us safe narrow into the faces of a general or two who are targeted for everything that is bad in a Pakistan where corruption is rife, accountability nil, highest offices dynastic corporations, and politics a game to reach the top. Sacrifices of countless men in uniform are forgotten turning their high command into a band of mercenaries for whom patriotism is self-advancement and national security a ploy to keep their cosy positions firewalled from any questioning. To uphold the sanctity of freedom of speech — a fundamental right of all human beings — the virtual guns are turned towards men in khaki. The noble fight muddies into a personal unleashing of anger.Missing the bull’s-eye of healthy criticism the justified self-defence convolutes into an orgy of gratuitous fury.
Time and again, the fauj is caricatured as an ogre that feeds on the blood of aspirations of the civilians. Forgotten is the dedication of all those who patrol our borders, our streets, protect our mountains and glaciers, and oversee rescue operations in floods, earthquakes and terror attacks. Side-lined is the singular love of a soldier for his homeland. And trivialised are the years of single-minded hard work their commanders invest in strengthening of the security paradigm of a Pakistan that fights enemies within and without.
For how long will the men in khaki be our excuse for making a mess of everything that is glorious about my beautiful but flawed homeland, Pakistan? Until when?
The writer is former Oped Editor, Daily Times. She is a columnist and a writer and can be reached on Twitter at @MehrTarar