A society that lives by being inhuman is a society in decline
Pakistan really does not have much to cheer about these days, but the ugliness that some people exude makes life just about unbearable.
Arsalan Iftikhar’s ‘holy war’ against Imran Khan is symptomatic of the worst that a human being can be. But, this cannot be passed as a random happening. He is a miniscule representation of the morbid mindset that the country has regressed to espouse over decades of pursuing policies which have no linkage with being human. In the tradition of his not-so-illustrious father who laid the foundations of the judiciary’s role in perpetuating regression, he is ardently carrying forward a family legacy where the goodness of a human being can only be gauged by passing the test on the scales laid down by the religiosity-touting butchers who would cut throats at the slightest whim and bury the alive to drive the fear of God in people.
am no advocate of Imran Khan, neither would I want to be one, but I am a passionate advocate of being human. Tyrian’s is a case that has not been allowed to rest in over two decades. Every leader with political differences with Imran has proceeded to exhume the story and use it to score some points, be it the Sharif’s, or the lieutenants of the one who rules from London, or the attendants of the former dictator. The worst are the ones who are currently in power. They can stoop to the lowest when it comes to settling scores, be these personal or political.
Having rigged the previous elections and faced with the challenge of a long march to the capital, they opted for the worst that any human being would do: order another minion to do the hatchet job. The person selected for pursuing the ugly undertaking is the son of the former chief justice whom Imran accuses of having partnered the Sharifs in manoeuvring the 2013 elections. His appointment as Vice-Chairman of the Board of Investment, Balochistan was duly construed as a reward for the unseemly services rendered by his father, a post that he has resigned from since but not before the entire political spectrum protested against it.
In the process they forget that the child who was barely three years old when this ugly pursuit was initiated is now a young girl of over twenty and well into an adult life. They forget to feel the pain of such a child whom they want to use as a mere commodity to reap their evil fruits. To err is human, but to forgive and forget even more so. Tyrian has no role to play in Pakistan’s politics. She or her parentage should not be dragged in to score some unworthy points by those who are ensconced in the seat of power today and whose hold is getting shakier by the day. Lest they forget they have their closets, too, which may be brimming with ugly skeletons.
It has become a pastime among people to throw stones forgetting that they live in glass houses. It has also become a favourite penchant with the rulers to subdue opposition by resorting to crass body blows. The art of intellect and ideas has been buried deep. It is only a crude display of the mundane and the ugly that is presented as representing the Pakistani psyche which is dripping with juices of hypocrisy and shamelessness. On the international stage, this is what Pakistan stands out for.
The indictment is endless, but a society that learns to live and prosper by its infirmities and gives up on trying bringing in quantum improvement is reduced to being a mere congregation of people who would get together only when it would serve their petty purpose. Living by higher ideals, something that would open a window of opportunity for moving into a life that would be more meaningful, more gratifying, is alien to these self-seeking marauders.
We have degenerated to becoming a society where young girls refuse to go out as they are pursued with ogling eyes. It is a society where four-year olds are raped and killed, but the criminals are never prosecuted, leave alone punished. It is a society where the dead are worshipped but the living are mocked at. It is a society that thrives on hate, not compassion. It is a society that lives by rituals, not the spirit. It is a society that prospers by strict conformity to the mundane, not by intelligence, exuberance and innovation. These are qualities that have been banished and their pursuit has been declared illegal. It is a society where a woman who reports rape has to first prove her innocence. It is a society that lives by discriminating against humans by virtue of their faith, caste, colour or creed. It is a society which gives prime time space to preachers of obscurantism who deny the facts of history and get away with it, poisoning impressionable minds in the process. It is a society that preaches intolerance and bigotry. It is a society that advances by being small-minded, not large-hearted. It is a society that perpetually hurls abuse at the British, the Americans and all the ‘bad’ ones, but queues up endlessly at their high commissions and embassies begging for visas. It is a society that lives by slogans, not commitment. It is a society where substance is compromised at the altar of the appearance. It is a society where the accusing finger is always pointed in someone else’s direction, and seldom would it point inwards to see if we have erred, too. No, we can’t make a mistake. Faults have to be found in others, and only with those who disagree.
The indictment is endless, but a society that learns to live and prosper by its infirmities and gives up on trying bringing in quantum improvement is reduced to being a mere congregation of people who would get together only when it would serve their petty purpose. Living by higher ideals, something that would open a window of opportunity for moving into a life that would be more meaningful, more gratifying, is alien to these self-seeking marauders.
We talk of democracy when we nurture a despotic mindset. We believe in imposing rather than assimilating. We promote feelings of hate, not affection. We feel proud of the gun that we carry, not the book that we refuse to read. We kill for pleasure. We destroy to satiate some sick latent desire:
He has some reason, else he could not beg.
I’ th’ last night’s storm I such a fellow saw,
Which made me think a man a worm. My son
Came then into my mind, and yet my mind
Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard
more since.
As flies to wanton boys are we to th’ gods.
They kill us for their sport.
–William Shakespeare, King Lear
Do I need say more?