The month-long protests in the heart of Islamabad against Nawaz Sharif’s government, monopolising media attention, seem to be teetering towards an anticlimax, notwithstanding continued efforts to keep them going. Barring the dropping of the proverbial ‘other shoe’ that some are still hoping for and others nervously apprehensive of, the protests may end soon or defuse to other locations. Many believe that the first shoe was already dropped in the form of a soft coup after an Inter Services Public Relations (ISPR) press release was gleefully welcomed by the leaders of the protests, although euphoria has since evaporated. Many others are hoping that the wearers of the shoes may be weaned away totally from the uncouth habit of dropping them with a thud, disturbing the peace of the residents below. Heavy rains and floods in Pakistan, creating a situation close to or worse than that of 2010, the cancellation of the visit of the Chinese president and other dignitaries and the free fall in the economy have so far failed to pressure the antagonists to rise to the occasion to at least agree to a temporary pause and return to normalcy in the interests of national unity. One wonders what will.
The protests are being staged in front of the complex of architecturally diverse buildings such as the National Assembly, Supreme Court, Presidency, Prime Minister’s House and the Federal Secretariat that symbolise state power. The protest march and the accompanying dharnas (sit-ins) were ostensibly intended to highlight an epic confrontation between the rulers and the ruled. The former is represented by the government and the parliamentary system, and the latter by the crowds whose varying strength and composition over four weeks has been a subject of both differing speculation and interpretation of the popularity of two firebrand populist demagogues who have for the past two years been knocking at the doors of power and trying to gatecrash them after being denied entry through traditional routes in an admittedly flawed developing democracy.
The month long dharna has all but paralysed the capital city and made it impossible for major government institutions to work. Islamabad’s famed D-Chowk where the protesters have retreated has become a quasi-residential sector of about 5,000 residents living in tents and on the street without any civic amenities or law enforcement force, creating serious safety and health hazards while their leaders stay in luxury containers. The situation is reminiscent of scenes from a decade ago in the camps established for the 2005 earthquake refugees, although those camps were much better organised. The situation in the D-Chowk compound is becoming increasingly tense and untenable and if the government is compelled to resort to forced evictions, a tragedy of Tiananmen Square proportions could result.
The leaders’ appeals for larger crowds to pressurise the government to yield to their demands, or the military to intervene, has seemingly failed as people increasingly realise the futility of the protests and are suffering greatly from the burden that the dharna is creating on their livelihoods. This has made the two leaders even more desperate in their rhetoric and actions and has driven them to go for broke rather than de-escalate the crisis. Perhaps the best thing that can be said about the dharna led by two new political leaders is that they have brought into serious question the legitimacy and viability not only of the governments led by Mr Nawaz Sharif at the Centre and by his brother in Punjab but have also challenged the prevailing socio-economic status quo in the country. Whether they have a credible blueprint, along with the ability to mobilise the political will and financial wherewithal to implement such a blueprint for a ‘new Pakistan’ is another matter. Their rhetorical speeches have always skirted this key question and have never gone beyond criticising ‘old Pakistan’s’ policies.
Regardless of the final outcome of the seesaw battle at D-Chowk, the staging ground for the ramparts of power in Islamabad will, in all probability, end when the hidden conductor stops the music or, more oppositely, when the game of political cricket ends and the umpire takes the bails off. Although this game has been played over and over in Pakistan, its results are becoming more and more difficult to predict. The entry of these two minnows as contestants has shown scant regard for the gold standard set by the game’s (read cricket or democracy) English founders. Match fixing, ball tampering, yorkers and bouncers, along with over two-run-a-ball strike rates and other flamboyant techniques have become an important part of the repertoire of these new, if still minor, entrants to the game, replacing the more sedate test cricket style. The latter has steadily lost its appeal as a spectacle sport and moneymaking business. In the same way, parliament is now in danger of being replaced by dharnas and long marches, which the spectators find more engrossing, even if devoid of substance.
While one may disagree with the use of dharnas to forcibly extract concessions from the government, there is much to be lauded about their spirit and ambience as a means of expressing popular will. However, if the organisers were serious about educating the masses, they would have adopted the template of the Occupy Movement in the US three years ago where Nobel laureates and eminent public figures addressed the audience and the poetry of Pablo Neruda and Faiz, among others, was recited to intellectually and emotionally involve the audience in a meaningful way instead of making it a cheap nightly song and dance show mainly for the rich and uncommitted youth. Although the organisers of the dharna, especially Dr Qadri’s well-trained and well-funded followers, have started to pay attention not only to food, clothing and other needs of the temporary residents of D-Chowk but also education, sports and other activities, the intention seems to be to keep them occupied rather than impart awareness and political education for the awareness of their rights.
If dharnas are to become a means of social transformation and instrument for promoting grassroots democracy, making them an integral part of our political culture, it may be well worth considering converting D-Chowk in Islamabad into a democracy park (like Hyde Park Corner in London) where all political parties and civil society groups are allowed to have a presence and chance to present their agendas and hold public debates on national issues. This will also provide an opportunity to the common people who have been quarantined from Islamabad’s corridors of power to savour its glamour and partake in the country’s governance in a more direct way. This may also be a fitting tribute to the organisers and participants of the dharna in Islamabad, whether they win or lose, for showing the courage to challenge the prevailing, antiquated and inequitable system of governance and development.
The writer is a freelance columnist. He can be reached at [email protected]