Tujh ko kitnon ka lahoo chahiye ae arz-e-watan
Jo tiray aarz-e-berang ko gulnaar karein
Kitni aahon se kaleja tira thanda hoga
Kitne aansoo tiray sehraon ko gulzaar karein
(How much blood do you need, o homeland,
To grace your visage with a rosy hue?
How many sighs will it take to cool the fire in your belly?
How many tears will it take to make your deserts bloom?)
FAIZ – the South Asian subcontinent’s answer to Pablo Neruda or Nazim Hikmet – often serves as a source of comfort during periods of national trauma, and there is no dearth of verses that could be deemed to address the precarious position in which
The verses above date back to 1979, the year that a particularly pernicious military junta sent
It was characteristic of Faiz Ahmed Faiz to locate glimmers of hope amid the murkiest gloom. This time around, it is somehow harder than before to empathise with his admirable quest.
The sense of despondency has little to do with all the hyperbole and clichés being flung around with reckless abandon. Benazir Bhutto personified
Nor did the attack on her person come as a surprise. After all, her mortal enemies had made their intentions clear on October 18, the day she returned to
There is only a microscopic chance that the identity of her killers will ever be established beyond reasonable doubt. The ungainly and unnecessary dispute over the precise cause of her death, despite the presence of so many eyewitnesses, points towards a clumsy official attempt to divert attention from inadequate security arrangements. The authorities may be closer to the mark in attributing the assassination to a jihadi conspiracy. Yet an intercepted telephone conversation does not in itself constitute adequate proof.
After the devastating bomb blasts of October 18, Benazir had pointed the finger at remnants of the Zia regime within the security establishment, and the culpability of such forces is clearly not out of the question. One is disinclined to put too much store by the email she purportedly despatched to CNN’s Wolf Blitzer via her American spokesman Mark Siegel, saying that in the event of her murder, the role of Musharraf should be highlighted. All angles, however, are worth investigating: what seems like paranoia may indeed have been prescience, although the pre-emptive charge begs the question why Musharraf would seek to jeopardize his own authority.
It is impossible to imagine such matters being satisfactorily addressed by a local inquiry, and it’s probably too late even for international investigative agencies to uncover clues and unravel conspiracies, given that crucial forensic evidence has been washed away. It’s nonetheless worth a try.
Benazir was undoubtedly correct in claiming that the foremost threat
That’s why the US was scrounging around for alternatives last week – without, of course, accepting any responsibility for its role in facilitating Benazir’s return, just as she was disinclined to revisit her second administration’s role in strengthening the Taliban menace that she now appeared so keen to combat.
But these discrepancies pale in comparison with her portrayal in much of the western press as a paragon of democratic virtue and as a tireless crusader against a military role in politics. Her inauguration in 1988 as the first female head of government of a modern Muslim state – a considerable achievement in symbolic terms – was based on a compromise with the army, and 19 years later she was prepared to go down the same dead-end road once more. Furthermore, as the PPP’s unelected chairperson for life, she appeared to be unacquainted with the notion that democracy begins at home.
Perhaps the most unkindest cut of all against the party she helmed thrice as long as her father was to bequeath its leadership to the organization’s least credible luminary. Many an adherent of the PPP attributes its abysmal record in power during the 1990s to Asif Zardari’s influence. There may be some exaggeration there, but his ensconcement as minister for investment was, for many, absolutely the last straw. The extensive allegations of kickbacks and corruption have never gone away. Small wonder that the party’s new leadership has been so dead set against the postponement of the elections scheduled for next Tuesday, knowing that its electoral prospects will dwindle without a strong sympathy vote.
The feudal farce enacted in Naudero on Sunday was almost beyond belief. It belonged to a different century and bore no relation to any sort of democracy. After last week’s monumental tragedy, there was an opportunity for the PPP to redeem itself. Amin Faheem or someone of his ilk could have been named as caretaker chairperson, with party elections scheduled within a month or so. It is not inconceivable that the party could have ended up with a leader of Aitzaz Ahsan’s calibre and credibility, and democratization may well have led it back towards its social-democratic roots, minus the wadera approach that has rankled since the days of Z.A. Bhutto.
What we have, instead, is a recently bereaved and seemingly bewildered child as a potentate-in-waiting, with his widely distrusted father as the regent and Faheem as the potential PM in the event of an electoral miracle. A burlesque made in Absurdistan, it betrays an enormous degree of contempt for followers of the PPP. It’s deeply unfortunate that the party lost its leader, but it didn’t have to turn suicidal as a consequence.
On the other hand, many of Benazir’s political rivals, not least Nawaz Sharif, have displayed a considerable amount of dignity and decency; the sombre and conciliatory mood offered an opportunity to cobble together a broad-based civilian alternative to the Musharraf regime that could relatively uncontroversially have overseen a return to democracy. No one took the initiative. It may be a temporary sensation, but yesterday’s gloom now seems to stretch out to the crack of doom.
ZNetwork is funded solely through the generosity of its readers.
Donate