Once upon a time in Bahawalpur

Or the power (and limitations) of logic

Those who have been there would know that few things can match the unpleasantness of being expelled from school. I have had that experience at Sadiq Public School back in 1991, although I was ‘reinstated’ immediately. The nauseating Mujhe kioon nikaala ballyhoo takes me back to that summer all those years ago.

One fine day (with almost no rain, all summer days in Bahawalpur are without exception fine – in fact too fine for anybody’s liking) shortly before the summer break, on reaching school I was told to report immediately to the vice-principal’s office, which at Sadiq was never considered a portent of good news. It was completely out of the blue too, for I had consistently been the best performer of my batch; conduct-wise too I couldn’t think of anything reproachable that I had been guilty of – at any rate I hadn’t been caught doing anything of that sort.

The vice-principal specifically instructed me not to attend the assembly and wait for him to return. The mystery was deepening. When he returned, he told me to meet the principal, who informed me without any fanfare whatsoever that I was free to go home. When I asked why, he remarked that I should ask my father. When I asked permission to use his phone to do just that, he curtly told me to use the vice-principal’s phone. The principal was obviously fuming even after expelling me. To cut the story short, my father reached immediately and before going into the principal’s office assured me that he would go to the High Court if he had to. Sitting in the vice-principal’s office, I saw more people join the conference (including the junior school principal who doubled as the Liaison Officer). Two hours later, I was told to go to my class as my expulsion had been retracted.

As I found out later, the principal and my father had been ‘discussing’ a matter for some days – I later perused the whole correspondence. What had happened was this: The principal had decided to run a summer’s camp during the summer vacations and wanted all parents to pay for it. And it wasn’t voluntary – well, the attending part was voluntary but the paying part wasn’t. My father had written to point out that forcing the parents to pay for something they didn’t even want was unfair. In what was supposed to be a reference to my father’s profession, the principal had retorted that that would be analogous to arguing that soldiers should only be paid during wars and not during peace times. My father had replied that since the parents were already paying regular school fees for summer vacations (when usually there was no school), demanding extra for the summer school would be analogous to the soldiers’ demanding that they should be paid extra during a war (the principal himself was a retired Air Force officer). This proved to be the last letter of the exchange, for the principal apparently responded to it by expelling me first thing the next morning.

Logic had finally prevailed that day as the school had been obliged to accept me back as a pupil – at least that’s how I took it at the time. Of course, I have learnt a thing or two since. My father’s argument was without doubt more logical, but I am now convinced that the threat of taking the issue to the court must have proved to be much more decisive that day than any superior arguments. Of course, logic has its role to play in the world. It absolutely rules the roost when it comes to software and anything controlled by control-boards (PCs, washing machines, microwave ovens and the like), but humans operate on emotions rather than logic. Sure, logic prevails in human affairs as well, but only when it is backed by power. From things as small as being expelled from school all the way to invading a country or pulling out of one are controlled by emotions and on what one can get away with.

Mind you, it’s not just faulty reasoning that has this limitation. The problem with even the soundest of logic is that it doesn’t lead to a unique solution. That’s because every logical system starts from the point of some assumptions (axioms) that are outside that logical system. Starting from different axioms, two logical systems – both sound – would lead to different (sometimes conflicting) conclusions. Logic therefore doesn’t bring anything decisive to the table in this sense – whether in the metaphysical or in the moral realm. It can show inconsistencies in your argument but it won’t bring new information.

In any social or political dispute, both sides usually come with their own ‘logical’ arguments. The issue is invariably settled not based on the pros and cons of the respective arguments but based on which side possesses superior power. Occasionally logic appears to carry the day, but that is simply because the power equation is in its favor. Power can be seen to make the shakier arguments to prevail on a daily basis. It isn’t the least bit surprising that an overwhelming majority of people attest to – in deed even if not in word – the ethics of Machiavelli and Nietzsche. Sadly, the small minority subscribing to Spinoza’s ethics will always constitute the exceptions that prove the rule.