Our politicians
I love rhetoric. And why shouldn’t I? Rhetoric has always served me well. Those who have known me since the heydays of my public speaking career will vouch for the fact that my speeches, especially the ones in Urdu, were laced with rhetoric and I took pride in my ability to milk each and every speech to the fullest, often rehashing the same piece over and over again, a common practice in the public speaking circuit of Pakistan. A good orator finds the most effective and emotional rhetoric in the most unfortunate of circumstances. This may sound insensitive but had there been no Kashmir, Bosnia, Rwanda, Palestine or poverty, the declamation competitions all over Pakistan would have been a massive bore.
It’s not just me. We, Pakistanis, on the whole, love our rhetoric. In fact, there are very few things we love more than rhetoric; our insatiable desire to hog the limelight might be one; our ability to indulge ourselves in a bit of conspiracy theory, be it as a principal instigator or as a Chinese whisperer, is another. You throw these three in the mix and you have a potentially explosive and/or embarrassing scenario at hand. While most of us often get away with this proverbial foot-in-mouth disease, the 24/7 media outlets and the wonder that is the internet ensures that those who enjoy even the most insignificant of prominence on our national airwaves are made to relive their gaffes over and over again.
Ever since the boom of the private news channels in this country, we have had enough sound bites on our national airwaves to last us a lifetime.
Be it a former law minister who sometimes fails to control an itch on nation television or lashes out at a reporter after inexplicably misinterpreting the term ‘long arm of the law’ (ah Wasi Zafar, how I miss thee); or one female parliamentarian explaining the origins of the political career of another; or a former prime minister, while giving an interview to an international news outlet, asking the interviewer in what has to be the best example of when not to use rhetorical questions or how not to phrase them, as to why don’t all those who claim unhappiness at the state of Pakistan just leave the country; or this nation’s favourite multi-coloured tie enthusiast former interior minister appearing before dozens of journalists and cameras and stating with a straight face that the reason for the high number of killings in the largest city of the country was due to angry and vengeful girlfriends and wives (a whole new piece should be written as an ode to Mr Malik, the mothership of all quotable quotes); or a former world cup winning captain trying to explain to us how he plans on dismissing two batsman with one delivery; or the former chief minister of Balochistan equating a fake degree to a genuine one; or the chief minister of the most populated province wildly shaking the microphones a la Zulfikar Bhutto and abruptly walking off the stage at a function for no rhyme or reason, or choosing to sing a poem to prove a rhetorical point over and over again to the extent that the poet’s family issues a request to all politicians to completely stop using the poet’s pieces (at least Altaf Bhai provides us with a wider range of songs), or clips of the passionate CM promising to end the energy crises within six months, nine months, two years or three (I have lost count to be honest) only for his brother to come in to power and dispel the CM’s promises as statements made under josh-e-khitabat – formal Urdu for rhetoric; and the list goes on. Is it really a wonder why we get most of our entertainment from news channels?
What seems to be even more fascinating is how our politicians fail to learn from their mistakes. In collaboration with some of my friends who have a wealth of experience in devising political strategies, I pitched our services to a number of organisations including some of the mainstream political parties as political strategists and crisis management consultants. One aspect of our services was speech writing and preparing party members for their appearances on various television channels as guests or for other such interviews. What should be a necessary service in this day and age of electronic media was met with extreme reservation. We were advised in no uncertain terms that we had no business to coach elected representatives as to what they should say before the cameras. The main theme seemed to hinge around the question ‘how dare you?’.
While someone may still be excused for being outwitted by an interviewer on live television, one can simply not overlook statements made by anyone in writing. You may be caught off-guard by a tricky question or may fail to clearly express your point due to a lack of proper grasp of a particular language, mostly English as is the case with our politicians, on TV but you should be prudent enough not to state something in writing without giving it due thought. This is where the micro-blogging site Twitter exposes the ignorance and/or absurd views of some of our politicians.
In theory, the concept of interacting directly with your fans and followers is wonderful and keeps you in the loop as to their opinions about you. Hence, it is very tempting for our leaders to take up this forum. They often forget that all those who follow them may not be their fans or admirers and may just avail this opportunity to vent out their frustrations or just have fun at the politician’s expense and it is the reaction of our politicians to such a crowd that leads to further entertainment. An MNA from Faisalabad, for example, runs one of the most entertaining accounts on Twitter because his replies to such provocations are often laced with niceties that one cannot repeat in public. The fact that some of his relatives and party leaders are on Twitter as well and have yet to reprimand him openly lets one to believe that maybe they enjoy the show as well.
More often than not, the followers hang on to every single tweet or statement as testament to the writer’s own views on a subject. Take Mr Imran Khan’s latest tweeting sensation on the killing of the TTP leader, Wali-ur-Rehman, for example, and how the drone attack killing this ‘pro-peace’ leader of TTP let to the killings of our soldiers in retaliation. This naturally raises a number of questions. First and foremost, TTP has job opportunities for peace-loving leaders as well? Secondly, is the leader of the PTI justifying the attack on our own soldiers? Yes we know you dislike the drones and we ourselves believe that drones are wrong, but do you really need to elevate the status of a leader of an extremist militant organisation, which are in the business of killing people and do not acknowledge the constitution of your country, to prove your point? Why not just label him a shaheed and get done with it?
Till our politicians start being more responsible and prudent with their statements, they are a PR disaster waiting to happen. But maybe they enjoy it themselves. Maybe the spotlight, no matter how unflattering, is what they crave. Maybe the red light of the camera is too much of a temptation to turn down. Who knows? In the meanwhile, let the rhetoric flow. Let the entertainment go on.
The writer is an advocate of the high courts, a guidance and career counselor and a public-speaking coach. The views expressed here are his own. He can be contacted at azhar@alumni.law.upenn.edu