POP Goes the Weasel
By Rakhshanda Jalil,
My visit to Post-Osama Pakistan (POP) coincided with Senator Kerry’s. While I was speaking at the launch of Jamil Ahmad’s stunning debut novel, The Wandering Falcon, in Lahore, some tough talk was being doled out in Islamabad. Yet, oddly enough, the buzz of this high-profile visit of the Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and the senior-most U.S. official to call on Pakistan since the May 2nd raid on Pakistani territory by the US Navy SEALS was muted.
Perceived as a ‘friend of Pakistan’ in US circles, Kerry met with Pakistani Prime Minister Yousuf Raza Gilani and President Asif Ali Zardari in Islamabad, after holding talks with Pakistan’s army chief.‘My goal in coming here was not to apologize for what I consider to be a triumph against terrorism of an unprecedented consequence,’ Kerry said later of his meeting with the country’s top brass. ‘My goal has been to talk with the leaders here about how to manage this critical relationship more effectively.’ Coming in the wake of strident concerns in the US over Pakistan’s alleged complicity or incompetence, Kerry’s visit — and his public acknowledgement of the mistrust and anger against Pakistan in the US — invited scorn and derision among the Lahoris I met and interacted with. An editorial in the influential Daily Times, dubbed it no more than ‘pressing the “reset” button’ that is, a reaffirmation on America’s part to put the Pak-US relationship back on track in order to combat terrorism. That it is an iron hand, beneath the velvet glove, pressing the button this time seemed too galling a truth to acknowledge both publicly and privately.
The Chief Minister of Punjab, Shahbaz Sharif, in a knee-jerk reaction to the chorus of anti-American sentiment, vowed to break the begging bowl mentality and refuse all foreign aid. Perhaps more significant than the statement itself, which my Lahori friends cynically dismissed as little more than tokenism and a calculated attempt to pander to popular sentiment, was the sub-text of Sharif’s avowed stance. ‘The rich will have to make sacrifices to rid the country of slavery of other countries… If we have to live an honourable life, we will have to get rid of foreign aid,’ claimed Sharif, a multi-millionaire with a string of scams and scandals dogging the length of his political career. A day later, he climbed down by clarifying that non-US aid was, however, kosher! In the Punjab Chief Minister’s smoke-and-mirrors chicanery, I was struck how, once again, adversity had deteriorated into a farce. Yet another opportunity to occupy, no matter how briefly or how tenuously, a high moral ground, had been allowed to pass. Once again, bluster dominated reflection. Once again, the real point was missed.
Talking to Lahoris of all ilks, devouring the country’s major newspapers and listening to a cross-section of voices on national television during my five-day stay, I was struck by the deafening silence behind the cacophony. It isn’t horrific that Osama should have been hiding in a six-canal house a short distance away from the Kakul Military Academy; what is truly horrifying is the way in which Pakistanis seem to be dealing with the events of May 2nd. As their country seems to reel from one catastrophe to another without pause or restraint, Pakistani intelligentsia too seems intent on apportioning blame – just as their political leaders have been doing since the outcome of Operation Geronimo flashed across our TV screens. Save for a few honourable exceptions the bulk of popular opinion seems to tilt towards a harangue of the US forces which have violated Pakistani sovereignty by entering its space and to harp on the continued killing of Pakistani citizens on Pakistani soil by American drone attacks in the North Waziristan area. While the former is an untenable position to take given Pakistan’s avowed commitment to the war on terror, the latter is indeed a disgrace.
I come back from Pakistan with more questions than answers. Why has this blame-game become a pattern? Why is it easier to play this double game with America rather than look inwards and introspect? Why is it easier, still, to display not a trace of remorse that something so appalling has happened? Why this eagerness to dismiss, even among informed and intelligent Pakistanis, the notion that the state has failed, and so has civil society in their assigned roles? Why is there no serious attempt to question the military and civilian leadership’s professed ignorance of Osama’s presence on Pakistani soil, that too not in some remote frontier area but in the garrison town of Abbottabad? Instead of the outrage over America’s intrusion upon Pakistani sovereignty why is there no collective questioning of the long-standing practice of offering sanctuary and safe houses to terrorist organisations? And what of Afghanistan? Why is there no remorse for this ‘fall guy’ in this proxy war?
While there are no satisfactory answers to these questions, I left Lahore with a few certainties. One, evidently the city and its people have emerged as practiced survivors with vast resilience, hardened veterans of a war on terror blue-printed in distant Capitol Hill. Behind bougainvillea-trailing high-walled compounds, gun-toting security personnel guarding barricaded gated communities, espresso-sipping ladies in floral-print lawn suits, life goes on at its unhurried pace in this city of gardens and canals. Its oases of privilege sit in uneasy proximity with its pockets of squalor as the residents of Defence and Cantonment keep the unwashed multitudes of Anarkali and Baghbanpura at bay. Be that as it may, the city as a whole is to be credited for keeping its head. Most Lahoris I spoke to expressed more outrage over the brazen release of CIA operative Raymond Davis than any overt sympathy or grief over the slaying of Osama Bin laden. Save for a ghaibana namaz-e-janaza (in absentia funeral prayers) organised by Hafiz Mohmamad Saeed, leader of the Jamaat-ud-Dawah, the militant right has been largely marginalised and silent. While there is anger against America and the state there is no overt demonstration of sympathy for Osama or any celebration of his ‘martyrdom’. Perhaps in this small mercy lies hope for the future of POP.
—
Rakhshanda Jalil visited Lahore for the launch of Jamil Ahmad’s The Wandering Falcon (Penguin India) on 15 May 2011. She blogs at at http://www.hindustaniawaaz-rakhshanda.blogspot.com