THE WAY IT WAS: To keep or not to keep promises —Mian Ijaz Ul Hassan
The state that traditionally represented the citizen or at least a privileged
section of the citizenry now represents none but itself. Instead of protecting
the rights, providing for needs and addressing the concerns of the citizens, it
is engaged in protecting, promoting and preserving itself. This may seem harsh
but it is true
I learnt from Daily Times (June 20) that, keeping a promise made six months
earlier, Malik has stepped down as PBC chairman. So there is after all a man
amongst us who keeps promises. Malik’s full name is Pervez Inayat Malik. He
resigned as the Punjab Bar Council executive committee chairman to fulfil his
promise to Mr Masood Chishti, his rival candidate in the elections held on
February 5. It seems both had agreed to hold the office for six months each.
Well-done Mr Malik! What a shame, however, that he was unable to find an excuse
to hang on to his position. No doubt had he stayed the legal community and the
country would have gained from his able leadership. Mr Malik cannot deny that
there are certain things that have to be suffered in the larger interest of the
country. Those of us steeped in the martial tradition feel ashamed at Malik
Sahib’s capitulation without giving battle.
Zia ul Haq promised elections in 90 days but held on for 10 years. Musharaf
should at least be appreciated for making no promises. Why make a promise if you
don’t intend to take off the uniform? Why dress in borrowed robes if it
entails losing your pants. Kar lo jo karna aih. Ever since Ayub Khan was
inducted to the cabinet as defence minister in the early fifties I find people
becoming increasingly devious and indifferent to keeping promises. Today, those
who should be setting a good example don’t make false promises but simply lie.
The state and law have been strange bedfellows for near sixty years — an odd
couple at best. Actually the state has had happier marriage with some of the
judges. The advocates can keep the law if they please. Ismet Chughtai, the
famous Urdu novelist, once wittily observed, “Thank God there is corruption in
our country otherwise nothing would get done!” I had always believed that
corruption in our country was a result of us being corrupt. Everything could be
put right if our iman was stronger, which is of course partially true. It was
explained to me later by someone as able as Mr Pervez Inayat Malik that
corruption was not the outcome of individual practice but primarily the result
of a weak state structure. If a citizen cannot have a legitimate kaam done
without as they say greasing an official palm it reflects upon the weakness of
the state that cannot have its writ enforced. At the time of The Raj there was
little evidence of corruption because the Gora state structure was in place.
There was a clear chain of command where duties and individual responsibilities
were clearly spelt out and fixed. Everyone was accountable for his acts. The
state was not concerned whether a person was individually virtuous or pious but
how he performed his duties. No one was above the law and no one could step out
of line.
We now have a state which functions differently. Instead of subscribing to the
written word of law it relies on the unwritten word of command. This is an
innovative way of circumventing the pain of rule of law. A person can have
access to whatever he needs only when he is connected to the state. Even a
candle will not light if it is not connected. The state is the source of power
and not law and justice as Asma or Aitzaz believe. I have seen people standing
in a queue waiting for their turn that never comes unless they get connected. I
remember once going to Dr Mehmood Malik for medical advice. Finding my chemistry
in improper balance he advised me to check into Mayo Hospital. Later the same
evening I drove to Mayo Hospital, walked to the registrar’s office, situated
at the entrance leading to the Gora Ward, and presented him with Dr Malik’s
note. The man in the white coat carefully studied Dr Malik’s note and then
entered my name in the register. I was told that all rooms were reserved and
that I should return and enquire after a few days. I thought of asking a school
friend who headed the Urology Department at Mayo but then foolishly dismissed
the thought. I was in no hurry so why ask for a favour. My turn would come in
due course of time. I enquired after a week, a fortnight, and a month and later
just for the heck of it, after several months, but my turn never came. The moral
of the story is that queues are for idiots, just as zebra crossings decorate our
carpeted roads to snare pedestrians to their death.
If you want to avoid vehicles colliding into your posterior you must always look
in the rear view mirror before stopping at a red light. Incidentally as far as I
know the rear view mirror is not for combing hair. Stopping at an amber light
can, however, cause great damage to the vehicle and your health. For some
drivers defying the traffic signals can be part of political activism. I
remember my friend Irfan Husain, a law-abiding cynic who seasonally likes to
season his meat with chocolate sauce, stopped at a red light much to the chagrin
of the vehicle following him. The limousine behind honked and honked in
annoyance. Irfan was infuriated but kept his cool. Honks were followed by long
hoots. Irfan clenched his teeth but did not budge. At the change of the signal
when Irfan moved ahead the red car at his rear raced forward and jammed the
breaks next to him. “What is the matter with you, stopping in the middle of
the road?” the infuriated driver shouted stretching his head out. “Can’t
you see? The light was red,” Irfan pleaded, raising his voice. “You are
obviously a government chamcha” was the remark hurled at a perplexed Irfan
before the car sped away screeching. For most of our citizens the government and
the state are one and the same thing. This is because more than half the time
governments have been directly presided over by the army. On most other
occasions, they have been managed by it.
On an another occasion, a friend commuting by bus from the Old to the New
University Campus saw a young student tearing the seat cover to extract a piece
of foam rubber, when he restrained the lad from damaging the seat the student
replied, “What is to you? It belongs to government.” The lesson to be drawn
from these rather commonplace examples is that in a citizen’s mind state and
government conjure up apathy, arrogance, corruption, violence, injustice, rule
of goons, plots and privileges, extravagance, abuse, patronage, propaganda and
lies. The list goes on. To paraphrase it in two sentences: The state is rich and
authoritarian. The citizens are wretched and poor. The state that traditionally
represented the citizen or at least a privileged section of the citizenry now
represents none but itself. Instead of protecting the rights, providing for
needs and addressing the concerns of the citizens, it is engaged in protecting,
promoting and preserving itself. This may seem harsh but it is true.
At the same time I am of the view that citizens should not violate but enforce
law. They must not wreck traffic signals but obey them. They should refrain from
tearing seats of transport vehicles because they are for our their own comfort
and use. One should not cut one’s nose to spite the face. What purpose is
served when angry individuals burn buses and private cars or smash shop windows?
If this is political activism it hurts us more than any one else. It helps make
enemies of individuals who could be friends. Citizens embittered by personal
frustrations should not waste their anger on divisive issues but direct it
towards people’s common causes.
Prof Ijaz-ul-Hassan is a painter, author and a political activist