Movements, not media spectacles

Madiha R. Tahir
We need a serious consideration of the Pakistani multitudes – that mass of labouring, non-English speaking Pakistanis which, at present, appears to us indistinguishable and threatening

Let me concede at the outset: the Islamists are not entirely wrong. They note an uncanny affinity between our rhetoric – we liberals, leftists, secularists – and the contemptible discourse about Islam and Muslims in the west. They observe our hypocrisy regarding the rule of law. They perceive our alienation from most Pakistanis. They have understood us much better than we have understood them, and the price we pay for these weaknesses is evident on the streets.

Following the murder of Salmaan Taseer, nearly fifty thousand men rallied under clear skies in Karachi this January and called for the blood of a poor Christian laborer and mother of five, Aasia Noreen, better known as Aasia Bibi. The demonstration was notable less for its size than for its unity of argument, its single-minded message in support of Pakistan’s blasphemy laws. Here, I met a lawyer inside the Jamaat ud Dawa camp who explained to me that discussing the blasphemy laws was itself blasphemous. I met a young boy, no more than eight, who was able to deliver a lengthy extemporaneous speech arguing for Sherry Rehman to be charged with blasphemy for proposing an amendment to the law. I spoke with young boys and old men who could articulate clearly the Islamist narrative around the blasphemy laws. It’s a unity built from decades of repugnant state policies, and top-down Islamisation, but also – and more importantly for us – from movement building, dialogue and persuasion.

In short, they’ve been doing the hard work, and we have not.

The blasphemy issue is fundamentally not a struggle about laws and amendments. It’s a political battle about differing visions of society, both equally modern. That battle cannot be won by cutting deals with political parties, which are in any case, morally bankrupt. Those of us who stand for democratic politics must build a movement that is broad and wide and deep. But, that will first require a self-education.

For one, we need a serious consideration of the Pakistani multitudes – that mass of laboring, non-English speaking Pakistanis which, at present, appears to us indistinguishable and threatening. We speak about democracy but we’ve written off the majority of the country as ignorant, addled by religion and therefore prone to fanaticism. Open the leftist e-zine Viewpoint for example and there is Pakistani analyst, Pervez Hoodbhoy conflating religiosity with extremism. “In a society dominated by traditional religious values,” Hoodbhoy declares, “heroism often means committing some violent and self-destructive act for preserving honor.” In other words, so the logic goes, most Pakistanis are religious and consequently, violent. We cannot talk to them, we say. We declare ourselves under siege.

Then, we bludgeon them. Hoodbhoy, of course, looks to the Army. Many of us, too, have backed military force. It was used to devastating effect in Swat during the 2009 military operation. Mounting evidence, such as videos leaked last year and the more recent Wikileaks memos, suggests that the Army committed egregious human rights abuses there including torture and extra-judicial killings. We may be queasy about pulling the trigger ourselves, but many among us have had no trouble backing state violence that has destroyed the lives of those who are both geographically and politically on the margins of Pakistan. We also count among our ranks those who have supported dictators here at home because we claimed that Pakistanis were not ready for democratic politics. Thus, it appears that we are willing to talk to people so long as they are the right kind of people. And most Pakistanis by our standards are not. So much for our democratic principles and respect for the rule of law.

All of this also fits rather neatly into western imperial discourse about Pakistan. When American counterinsurgency analyst, David Kilcullen declares that Pakistan will not survive more than six months, one can hear its echo in Ahmed Rashid, who, writing in the New York Review of Books , raised the specter of a failed state and an Islamist takeover in the wake of the recent floods. Or when staunch Zionist and American right-winger Daniel Pipes says that Islam is fundamentally a violent religion and Muslims are extremists, one faintly hears reverberations of Hoodbhoy. To be clear, Hoodbhoy is not the equivalent of Pipes nor Rashid the same as Kilcullen. The point here is that a Pakistani liberal discourse that is ostensibly about democracy, human rights, justice – ideals that ought to run counter to imperialism – nevertheless shares certain features with western, imperial discourse. Both feel under siege by religion, particularly, Islam, and believe that most Pakistanis cannot be dialogued with. This should be unsettling for us.

Moreover, it’s a framework that makes organising around the blasphemy issue a fraught task. We’re willing to do just about anything rather than talk to an actual, fellow Pakistani. Instead of convincing people, we bicker about which political parties to ally with. Instead of building real leverage by persuading Pakistanis, we bus in people to our rallies and call it “street power” –which it isn’t. Instead of a movement, we’ve settled for a media spectacle.

We need to carry our principles consistently, to think democracy anew. Here’s the somewhat abstract, philosophical point at the back of it: we must begin to think of democracy as a constant, ethical practice rather than an institution. We must engage with Pakistanis rather than dealing with politics through our patronage networks and backroom deals. Success from such acts will remain episodic. The movement must act out democracy in its actions, functioning and process. I’m aware that what I’m putting forth is bound by particular conceptions of the public sphere and communication, but space does not permit me to elaborate on that here.

Finally, I do not intend to downplay the threats that may come from trying to mobilise and engage with communities beyond those we regularly connect with, but we will have to start somewhere, somehow. The reality is, whatever the Islamists may claim, we actually have very little idea about what Pakistanis uncommitted to either side think. They may be religious, but it doesn’t follow that they have strong convictions about politics.

It’s time we talked to them.

Madiha R. Tahir is a freelance journalist based in Pakistan. Her work has appeared in Foreign Affairs , The National , and The Columbia Journalism Review, as well as on “Democracy Now!” PRI’s “The World” and other venues. She is also co-editor of a forthcoming volume, Dispatches from Pakistan

February 4-10, 2011 - Vol. XXII, No. 51