Indignity of labour

I had a bunch of startling (for me) realisations this week. One, that Islamabad Club has a rule against allowing domestic help into the dining halls; two, that many think this is okay; third, and most importantly, that the Islamabad Club is managed and funded in some part by the Pakistan government.
Hearing about such ‘rules’ is one thing; actually seeing them being implemented, and the fact that said implementation is done with immense pride, is the emotional equivalent of being punched in the mouth. On asking around, I was told that similar ‘rules’ exist at the Lahore and Sindh clubs as well. The people who passed this information on to me weren’t doing so in indignation; they said that the fact that such laws exist at all private clubs makes them okay. ‘If you don’t like them, don’t go there,’ I was told. Fair enough. But this goes beyond personal choice. For one, I wasn’t at the Islamabad Club out of choice, although I did leave the moment I discovered their anti-worker ‘rules’. Secondly, I’m flabbergasted at the fact that such regulations are in place in a country that is signatory to international human rights and workers’ rights conventions. Moreover, many of those who proudly pay for memberships to such places actually position themselves as great defenders of rights.
Even more alarming is the fact that the implementers of these rules aren’t the elite themselves, but the workers at these places. The elite patrons and members of these clubs don’t actively throw errant domestic help out; it is the waiters and floor managers who are made to do the dirty work. This disenfranchisement and desensitisation towards one’s own class is, frankly, appalling. One wonders if the workers at these places realise this dichotomy, and if they do, one wonders how they feel about it.
I was told that I was being unfair by targeting these establishments alone, and that, it was the members and patrons who were to blame. True, but only to an extent. This elitism is a two-way process: the patrons might demand such despicable rules, for which they should be taken to task; but by implementing them, the establishments themselves perpetuate this exclusion, and as such, become party to a crime. And a crime it most certainly is; it is inhumane, anti-worker, and ultra-vires to the Constitution. Which brings me to my next point.
The Islamabad Club is managed and funded in part by the Government of Pakistan. The current Patron-in-Chief is President Asif Ali Zardari. As such, dear reader, our taxes — money that was deducted from our meagre pockets — is being used to abuse workers. Instead of using its position as a donor and manager to ensure that laws (against child labour and the exploitation of workers, for instance) are implemented practically at the Islamabad Club, the government has, instead, turned a blind eye to the gross violation of the Constitution that is being carried out there. I’m sorry, but I cannot allow my money to be abused in this manner by being utilised for things that go against every value that I hold dear. As a taxpayer, I have the right to demand accountability.
Also, how insecure are our elite that they think exclusionary, inhumane policies of this sort are the only way to ensure the perpetuation of the status quo? We decry the violence of the other; surely these ‘rules’ are a form of structural violence too? One wonders if those who demand and implement such laws are aware of the havoc they wreck on the sense of self of those who possess or demand little more than self-respect.
Some friends and I had thought about protesting this abuse of our tax money. We had thought of writing to the Islamabad Club management and President Zardari. We had thought about going to the government department that decides and manages the funds that are given to the Islamabad Club and demand some accountability. We had also thought about going to organisations that utilise the Islamabad Club’s facilities for meetings and conferences, and ask them to rethink their decision of being associated with inhumane, anti-worker policies. In this last aspect, we have met with some success: the International Labour Organisation (ILO) has expressed dismay at the Islamabad Club’s rules and has decided to change the venue of at least one workshop. We will do the rest of the things we have planned too, but we’re not sure how far we will succeed.
The most important thing that we require at this moment is support from the people; we require support from members of the club, we need support from visitors, we need the support of workers, and assistance from members of the general public. This might seem like a minor issue, but if it is as inane as it seems, shouldn’t change be easy? More importantly, it might seem inane to those of us with the privilege of choice, but imagine the life of a worker who is denied entry while her/his employers dine at the club, or the feelings of a worker who is forced to throw his compatriot out just because of an illegal ‘rule’ that was put in place in an attempt to ape exclusionary Colonial policies. We celebrate our independence in August every year, and talk about sovereignty, but how independent or sovereign are we if we continue to perpetuate inhumane remnants of the Raj?
On a side note, is the Chief Justice of Pakistan a member of the Islamabad Club?

The writer is a freelance journalist and researcher based in Karachi. She can be reached via Twitter (@UroojZia) or email (contact AT uroojzia.com)