Dream Deferred

Students in Punjab are trying to revive the National Students Federation along with its progressive spirit

By Babar Mirza

There was a time in Pakistan's history when students not only held independent opinions on the kind of education they were receiving but also had the moral audacity to agitate for the changes they wanted to see in the educational system. The students' movements at that time were not known for hostel-parasitism, petty violence or political banditry. Rather, the focus was on the problems faced by the students in their schools, colleges and universities. Students faced grave problems immediately after the partition. Karachi, the federal capital at the time, found itself bustling with youthful immigrants for whom the high costs and poor standards of public education were unacceptable. However, the response of students was not passive cynicism but a progressive belief in change through social mobilisation. The student organisation that led this movement through most of the 1950s and 1960s was the National Students Federation.

Since the NSF was a continuation of Democratic Students Federation (DSF), it becomes important to look at the latter's history as well. The DSF was formed in 1950 by half a dozen students at the Dow Medical College (DMC) in Karachi. According to Dr Haroon, one of the founding members of DSF, these students were inspired to act by progressive-Marxist ideas of change but their agenda was to address specific issues faced by the students. Hectic efforts to mobilise students at other educational institutions produced sweeping electoral results for DSF in 1952. A year later, DSF was also the leading representative of students' agitation for reduced tuition fees, better libraries and classrooms and a proper university campus. Not surprisingly, the protesting students were baton-charged, tear-gassed, injured and arrested, and, on Jan 8, 1953, six of them were killed when police opened fire at a rally. However, the students did not relent and put up such a show of democratic strength as to compel the education minister Fazlur Rehman to resign and the recently inducted Prime Minister Mohammad Ali Bogra to order the construction of Karachi University campus.

In the general crackdown against leftist organisation in 1954, the DSF was banned, along with the Communist Party of Pakistan, the Progressive Writers Association and the labour unions. However, in 1955-56, new students picked up the old threads and revived the DSF under the name of the National Students Federation.

The NSF prevailed in the electoral politics at campuses throughout the 1960s (not through a culture of fear as is the case with IJT, but through a culture of constructive debates). It was also the main mobilising force during protests in 1962-63 against the three-year degree course and in 1968-69 against the dictatorship of President Ayub Khan.

The issue-based approach of the DSF and the NSF during the 50s and early 60s kept them quite open to diverse progressive ideologies. A liberal Sindhi could get nominated by the mohajir-dominated DSF for union elections in DMC, and a woman could contest the post of the NSF joint secretary in the Karachi University. However, from 1965 onwards, the NSF suffered one split after another due to differences of opinion in ideological debates. The first split, for example, took place on the China-or-Moscow question. These splits shifted the organisational approach of the NSF from the issues in education to the issues in politics. The progressive students' movement didn't die during the 70s and 80s and was fairly active in crucial democratic movements, however, misdirected -- and sometimes misinformed -- focus on ideological issues became its perennial ailment.

After the decision of the present government to restore the student unions, some students in Punjab are trying to revive the NSF along with its progressive spirit. Students from Islamabad, Lahore and Faisalabad met in August in the city and decided to "resurrect the NSF as a non-partisan group while trying to keep all the parties of the Left in confidence". These students have since been trying to reach out to students in different parts of the province.

While prevailing circumstances often affect the fate of a political movement, NSF's history shows that organisational viability can only be ensured by consistent hard work and a ready-to-listen ideology. During the political events of the last two years, many students have become politically active and many others are yearning to find an agreeable platform for change. However, a lot of work needs to be done to convince these students for collective action through a progressive forum. It is very important for the student leaders to realise that their audience is their fellow students, who may have slightly different notions of the ideal but pretty much the same plans of action. Indeed, it would be quite unfortunate if the large reservoir of politicised youth was left to decay in various isolated ideals.

'Their backs against the wall, they've no option but to fight'

Asad Rahman went to Balochistan in 1971 at the age of twenty to develop a programme for social development in collaboration with the National Awami Party (NAP). During the 1973-77 Baloch insurgency, Rahman led guerrilla forces in the Marri tribal area in their struggle against the Pakistan Army. After the ceasefire, he moved to Afghanistan where he helped organise a refugee camp for around 5,000 displaced Baloch families. His vast experience and knowledge, especially as an educated Punjabi, of the history and demands of the Balochi people is crucial to understanding the present scenario.

By Babar Mirza

The News on Sunday: How would you contextualise the present unrest in Balochistan?

Asad Rahman: It's a little known fact that the Pakistani government had acknowledged the independence of Balochistan on August 4, 1947, and the Khan of Kalat had declared the same on August 15, 1947. However, Pakistani government coerced the Khan into signing the merger document on March 30, 1948, resulting in the first armed struggle of Balochs, led by Khan's brother Abdul Karim Khan, against the Pakistan army. However, physical control over the territory was not acquired until Oct 6, 1958, which resulted in the second Baloch insurgency led by Nauroz Khan.

Moreover, Balochis have been exploited for the past sixty years and have been given nothing in return. They have been pushed to the wall. The present confrontation, the fifth so far, started in 2002 when the late Nawab Akbar Bugti demanded the land rent, taxes and royalties that the federal government owed Balochistan -- a total of 88 billion rupees accruing since 1954 [Rs 128 billion according Balochistan Finance Minister Mir Asim Kurd]. The military operation launched to suppress this demand led to Bugti's assassination in 2006.

TNS: But the Musharraf regime did launch some development projects in Balochistan, especially the Gwadar Port project.

AR: There has been a demographic change in the district of Gwadar. No Baloch is employed in the Gwadar port. Instead, the jobs have been given to MQM supporters coming in from Karachi. This is being done to make Balochis a minority in this district and to ensure that the elected representatives from the district are not Baloch.

Musharraf has adopted a policy of genocide in Balochistan for the past five years. People are being forced to move out of their areas. 10,000 Baloch families have been displaced and 1,100 Balochis are missing. Balochistan is getting exactly the same treatment which was given to Bangladesh until it seceded.

TNS: The PPP-led central government recently apologised for the military action in Balochistan. How would it affect the ground situation?

AR: An apology cannot make up for the sixty years of bloodshed and injustice. Central government has been treating Balochis as third class citizens, and Balochistan as a colony. Just an apology cannot make things nice and happy. First and foremost, the central government would have to withdraw all military forces from Balochistan and release the 1,100 missing Balochis. Then it must sit down and negotiate with the Baloch nationalists to give them complete provincial autonomy. Excepting defence, communications, international affairs, international trade and currency, all other subjects have to lie with the provinces. And, of course, the Balochis must be given control over their natural resources. If the central government is not willing to do that, I do not see Pakistan lasting another five years.

TNS: Is their any hope for improvement under the fairly elected democratic government of Feb 18? Is the present political and military leadership really willing to sit down with Balochis and accept truth and reconciliation as was done in South Africa?

AR: I don't think so. None of them has that character. They are neither statesmen nor diplomats. Not even patriots. Most of them are self-serving individuals, and I do not see a politician on the scene today who is willing to do all this.

The politicians and military of today do not realise the gravity of the situation. When the country is faced with a secession movement and crises of food, energy and water resources, they are preoccupied with constitutional packages to get themselves entrenched in the present government. They don't have the guts to stand up against Musharraf, especially Zardari.

What I am trying to say is that the politicians in Islamabad are blind. They are only self-serving, and have no concern for the integrity and sovereignty of Pakistan.

TNS: So, what is the only option the Balochis have today?

AR: Secession. Under the circumstances, that's the only option they have.

TNS: Do the people of Balochistan support this cause?

AR: If you visit Balochistan, meet the students, tribesmen, politicians, even the settlers over there, you will realise that 95 per cent of the population of Balochistan wants independence and self-determination, which was promised to them by Quaid-e-Azam. This is a very important point. The stand-still agreement between Quaid-e-Azam and the Khan of Kalat recognised the independence of Balochistan.

TNS: It is widely believed that the sardars do not represent the will of the Balochi people. To what extent is this perception true?

AR: There are a lot of misconceptions about the tribal system in Balochistan. The sardars are very much representative of their tribes. They are not like the maliks and chaudhris of Punjab. This is because sardars and nawabs are not among the ruling elite. They are not rich politicians like the Bhuttos and the Sharifs. If you go see their homes, the way they treat their tribes, the way their tribes treat them, you'd realise that the notion that it's the war of sardars and ordinary Balochis have nothing to do with it is a complete misconception and sheer central government propaganda. How can you say that when people have supported their sardars in all the five civil wars that have been fought so far? It was people who were fighting, not the sardars!

TNS: In your opinion, what's the normative argument in favour of provincial autonomy?

AR: The first thing you must recognise is that Pakistan is a multinational state and not a homogenous nation-state. Then you should look at the stages of social, political and economic development of various regions of Pakistan. Rural Sindh is 100 per cent feudal, Karachi, Hyderabad, Sukkur are post-feudal but pre-capitalist. Balochistan and NWFP have tribal systems. Parts of Punjab are tribal, parts feudal and parts pre-capitalist. How can you have a singular social or economic policy when you have such diverse cultures and development stages? This is the argument for provincial autonomy: each province should be able to set its own priorities and develop itself according to its own conditions, and not according to what is discussed in Islamabad.

Islamabad is divorced from the realities of the people. They make policies for towns and villages that they have not even heard the names of. The point that I am trying to drive home is that they sit in their cocoons in Islamabad and think they know it all, when actually they know nothing.

TNS: Are Baloch nationalists likely to receive any help from outside?

AR: In the present geo-political situation of the region, there are many players who are going to help them, for example, the US, UAE and Iran, the last in its own defence. The US is very active in this region and is, in fact, financing an anti-Iran militant group called Jindallah.

Moreover, the current US strategy is to achieve the balkanisation of Pakistan, leaving Punjab as a landlocked Pakistan whose nuclear capability could thus be neutralised. This is evidenced by the new map of the Middle East prepared by a US think tank which shows Sindh as part of Rajasthan, NWFP as part of Afghanistan and Balochistan as an independent 'Greater Balochistan' including Baloch areas in Iran and Afghanistan. In this weak economic military state of Balochistan, the US hopes to control its natural resources and seal its border with Iran. The US also plans to use the cantonments being built in Balochistan in their operations against Iran.

The US has dropped Musharraf by the way. He is no longer the US administration's boy, but only Bush's boy. But Bush will be out in November. If you have been following their statements and discussions, you can see that they have dropped Musharraf.

TNS: How would Balochi members of parliament respond to this situation?

AR: In the National Assembly session of 2nd June, Taj Jamali, former chief minister of Balochistan and current member of the House, said that Musharraf must be tried for all the deaths in Balochistan and if anyone had to shoot him, he would be the first person to do so. These remarks, expunged by the Speaker, were by a Baloch leader who is considered to be the most moderate, and show that Balochis are at the end. Their backs are against the wall, and they have no option but to fight.

Danger of ideas II
Obscenity, Sacrilege and Sedition
-- reasons why the law does not approve of certain
publications

By Babar Mirza

On the 6th of February 1957, police raided a book shop on Temple Road in Lahore and seized 22 albums mostly containing life-sized nude pictures of females. The shop owner was charged with offending the law against selling obscene books, magazines, etc. After a couple of appeals, the case eventually reached for revision before Justice Faruqi of the Lahore High Court to determine whether the photos were obscene.

During the proceedings, the court heard the opinions of doctors, professors, students and some exponents of art. Most of the witnesses -- including such eminent figures as Shakir Ali, Ishfaq Ahmad, professor Sirajuddin (Principle of Government College, Lahore), Rashid Akhtar (Pakistan Radio's assistant director) and Mrs. Anna Molka (head of Punjab University's fine arts department) -- testified that the pictures expressed the beauty of the human form and were not sexually stimulating or obscene.

Justice Faruqi however held otherwise, but with some very interesting reasoning. He accepted the rule that 'obscenity as understood in law consists of publishing or exhibiting such matter or object which has the tendency to corrupt the minds of those who are open to immoral influences by exciting in them sensuality and carnal desire,' but didn't apply this subjective standard of morality in its conventional form.

He noted that except for three photographs, the 22 albums forfeited from the bookshop contained only photos of nude females. Questioning why the beauty of the human form could only be expressed through females who are naked, he quoted a research concluding that photographs of nude females were produced primarily for the consumption of males, majority of whom were erotically aroused by the photos 'just as they were aroused upon observing living females.' Using this reasoning, Justice Faruqi held nude to be obscene.

Sadly, gone are the days when we had so many exponents of art and a feminist judge. In 1992, the law changed as well. Deciding on a petition filed by Habibul Wahab Al-Khairi, the Federal Shariat Court held that Islamic law did not acknowledge the 'accepted morality' of the people and 'the shameful deed is to be analysed objectively in the light of the teachings of Islam.' Subsequent case law and my own knowledge do not contain much understanding of the Islamic concept of obscenity, but I must humbly submit that the idea of an objective morality sounds like a unicorn to me.

Obscenity is not the only reason why the law does not approve of certain types of publications. In fact, the Press and Publications Ordinance 1963 contained fifteen sub-sections on the basis of which published material could be forfeited and the publishers and writers punished. In 2002, the government had the good sense of repealing this law in favour of the relatively limited (though still absurdly broad) provisions of the Pakistan Penal Code and Criminal Procedure Code.

The provisions of the Pakistan Penal Code assign punishments for producing material which is obscene, seditious, creates disharmony among different classes or groups of people, maliciously and deliberately insults the religious beliefs of a class or group or defiles the sacred name of the Prophet. Moreover, some provisions introduced by General Zia ul Haq provide for exceptional limits on Ahmadis regarding their freedom of expression. Depending on the provision violated, punishments range from three months to death. Publications punishable under the Penal Code are also liable to be forfeited by the government under the Criminal Procedure Code.

These laws are predictably broad and boring, but its through cases that you learn that the long arm of the law in this case is attached to a small brain. Since Saadat Hasan Manto was sentenced to pay a fine of 300 rupees for writing and publishing 'Thanda Gosht,' there has hardly been any conviction on the grounds discussed in the last paragraph (though Ahmadis are still the exception). The reason has nothing to do with the merits of a case, but the fact that officials exercising legal authority have always made glaring procedural errors which showed their slothful and discriminatory approach.

In 1964, the governor of West Pakistan ordered the owner of a printing press to deposit Rs. 20,000 as security for having published two books titled 'Jawani Ke Raaz' and 'Shab-e-Aroosa.' This order was held to be illegal by the Lahore High Court in 1976, as it was not preceded by a show-cause notice (which implies the right to hearing). For the same reason, the court declared illegal the order of the provincial government to forfeit three books written by Fakhar Zaman (the order of forfeiture was issued in 1978 and the judgment was given in 1996).

In some other cases, the authorities lost their case because failed to point out any specific grounds for forfeiting a publication or fining a publisher. These include cases involving Mahmood Khan Abbasi's book 'Khilafat-e-Muavia wa Yazeed' (1961), a review of Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto's book 'Myth of Independence' published in Fahmida Riaz's magazine 'Awaz' (1982), Yousuf Saleem Chisti's book 'Tareekh-e-Tasawwuf' (1985) and Ghulam Ahmad Parvaiz's booklet 'Firqay Kaisey Mit Saktay Hain' (2006).

In two cases, the officials felt so relaxed as to even forget to produce the material the alleged possession of which was punishable under law. In the first case, a publisher, a bookseller and a peon in WAPDA were convicted in 1976 by the military court for possessing obscene literature. It took three years before the Lahore High Court found that 'this so-called 'obscene literature' allegedly recovered from the petitioners in the case is not forthcoming on the record,' and therefore, the decision of the military court was illegal.

Similarly, in 1979, the summary military court of Gujrat sentenced Attaur Rehman, who was Yehya Bakhtiar's private secretary, to rigorous imprisonment for nine months and a fine of Rs. 5,000 for possessing booklets titled 'General Zia Ki Taqreer Ka Post-mortem' and 'Reply to General Zia's speech of June 25, 78.' The High Court reversed this decision next year on the grounds that nothing had in fact been recovered from the accused and that no public witness had come forth to support the case of the prosecution.

In a 1960 case, certain passages from the book 'Mizanul Haq' -- which compared Christianity and Islam and tried to show the superiority of the former over the latter -- were held to have the deliberate and malicious intention to insult the religious feelings of Muslims. On an assurance by the Bishop of Lahore, the court allowed the publishers to delete the offensive passages from the future editions of the book but did not reproduce them in the judgment.

In a 1962 case, certain passages from Duncan Macdonald's book 'Development of Muslim Theology, Jurisprudence and Constitutional Theory' -- which was also part of Punjab University's Masters in Political Science syllabus -- were also accused of intentionally insulting the feelings of Muslims. This time, the court did reproduce the relevant passages, but didn't order for their expulsion from the text: Chief Justice Kayani re-wrote the passages to make them legally acceptable.

Thus we see that the legal standards to determine what's obscene, seditious, or religiously insulting are quite vague under Pakistani law. Except for a few early cases, courts seem to prefer a case-by-case approach to avoid having to come up any standard definition. More importantly, the added callousness of state officials suggests that any alleged violation of these laws would seldom lead to legal sanction, provided, of course, the alleged violator doesn't go missing or die at the hands of a fanatic.

Danger of ideas

Politics, religion and sex -- all the ingredients for banning a book

By Babar Mirza

"An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all," said Oscar Wilde In 'The Critic as Artist.' However, governments can't live with this and try to keep a check on ideas that may arouse a challenge the status quo, especially the norms (the legal word for dogmas) of politics, religion and sex.

You must have heard about a number of political, philosophical and literary works that are or were banned in one country or another: The Bible, 'The Satanic Verses,' 'Candide,' 'Confessions,' 'Ulysses,' 'The Rights of Man,' 'The Communist Manifesto,' 'Mein Kempf,' 'Did Six Million Really Die?', etc. These bans are imposed on importing these books or producing them locally. In Pakistan, the former is achieved through the Customs Act 1969 (Section 15, 16) and the latter thorough Pakistan Penal Code (Section 292), Criminal Procedure Code (Section 99-A), and, until its repeal in 2002, West Pakistan Press and Publications Ordinance 1963.

Under the Customs Act, it is prohibited to import "any obscene book, pamphlet, paper, drawing, painting, representation, figure, photograph, film and article." Moreover, the federal government can prohibit importing or exporting of any good of specified description by notification in the official gazette.

The list of such notifications concerning books, pamphlets, etc. makes quite an interesting read. Yes, 'The Satanic Verses' is there. So is Martin Lings's 'Muhammad.' In addition to books considered hostile to the state's version of Islam, proscribed publications include, among others, those that espouse Pakhtoonistan or other ethno-nationalist movements in Pakistan, call for revolution by the masses, discuss or describe sex, extol the Jews or mar the image of the Pakistani government or the Saudis.

Let's now have a look at some notable mentions in the list. Dr Fazlur Rahman's 'Islam' was banned in 1969 due to its modernist approach. In case the name is not familiar, Dr Rahman was the first Muslim to receive the prestigious Giorgio Levi Della Vida Award in 1983, and had been appointed by President Ayub to serve as the director of Central Institute for Islamic Research from 1962 to 1968.

Norman Daniel's 'Islam and the West,' which in fact "explores the political and religious considerations behind distorted Western views of Islam," was banned twice, first in 1961 and then in 1967. 'Preaching in Islam' by the famous British orientalist Sir Thomas Walker Arnold -- who was the teacher of Allama Iqbal and Syed Suleman Nidvi -- is also banned. Other great works included in the list include Bernard Lewis's 'The Arabs in History,' Hendrik Van Loon's 'The Story of Mankind' and V. S. Naipaul's 'Among the Believers.'

Some important books about Pakistani politics, including Collins and Lapierre's 'Freedom at Midnight' and 'Mountbatten and the Partition of India,' Tariq Ali's 'Can Pakistan Survive?' and Fakhar Zaman's 'The Prisoner,' are also duly mentioned in the list. Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto's 'If I am Assassinated' and 'My Pakistan' were banned, as you might have guessed, in 1979. Three other books about Z. A. Bhutto -- written by Shahid Javed Burki, Victoria Schofield and Salman Taseer (the current governor of Punjab) -- were also banned in 1980.

Except for Saadat Hasan Manto's 'Shikari Aurtein,' most of the books that are banned because of their obscene contents are pulp fiction or anthropological and psychological studies. It is fun just to read through their titles: 'Abnormal Psychology,' 'Woman: Her Charm and Power,' 'Turkish Art of Love,' 'Diseases of the Male Genital Organs,' 'Sir Naked Blade,' 'Angelique and the Sultan,' 'The Cradle of Erotica,' 'Sir Rusty Sword,' 'The Pirate,' etc. Why? And does it mean that some pervert in fact read these books before banning them?

Evading the general categories of politics, religion and sex, there is another category in the list that I call the 'nuggets'. Read this April 1957 notification: "Any book, magazine, pamphlet, leaflet, newspaper, or other like publication, which contains stories told, with the aid of pictures, without the aid of pictures or wholly in pictures, being stories portraying (i) the commission of offences; or (ii) acts of violence or cruelty; or (iii) incidents of a repulsive or horrible nature." You might think that this still leaves you with books on taxonomy, but sorry; it doesn't. Next is Ludvik Vecera's 'Classic Roses: A Concise Guide in Colour' which contains the history, descriptions, superstitions, and legends of roses.

Then there is a July 1981 notification, whereby eight books concerning Jews (including Collin and Lapierre's 'O Jerusalem') were banned, the last of which is the source of my unquenched curiosity as to its subject matter: its author is not mentioned and it is titled 'My Bigtime Book.' H. G. Wells's 'Pocket History of the World' and Sir Walter Scott's 1923 historical novel 'Quentin Durward' (which is about a Scottish archer in the service of French King Louis XI) are also among the 'nuggets' for which there is no rational excuse for being kept on the list.

It's only appropriate to mention that those intending to visit Pakistan in near future need not be alarmed, as customs people actually never check your luggage for these books, and most of the better known books in this list (except for 'The Satanic Verses') are easily available on bookshops and libraries in big cities. Taxpayers, however, do need to be alarmed as it is their money which is used to pay the officials who write these notifications.

Free speech activists also need to be duly informed that this or any other official list is not the problem in Pakistan, but the fact that Pakistanis don't read. We chat about politics, ogle at women and remain silent about religion. Consequently, reading doesn't really figure in our popular culture.

Lastly, I must point out that although I had a 2006 edition of the Customs Act, the list therein went only so far as 1989 (this list is also available on paksearch.com). So I had to plod through the Federal Bureau of Revenue's website which hosts government's notifications from the year 1970 to 2008. Apparently, there was only one Section 16 notification in the past 19 years (compared to 229 in the previous 42 years), dated June 2002 and banning 'Tareekhi Dastavaiz: Shias, Muslims or Kafirs?' written by Mrs. Ziaur Rahman Farooqi. Knowing how well organised government websites are, I hope that those who write law books shall soon furnish any deficiency in the list for the purposes of both information and entertainment.

(To be continued)

Utopia for me
Without a trial lens

By Babar Mirza

"I mean Negative Capability, that is when man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason."

John Keats's famous definition of the quality crucial to form 'a Man of Achievement' has inspired many in literature and philosophy. I heard about it only a couple of years ago from a friend who has a good taste in literature (though my good luck in this regard doesn't compensate for the regrettable rarity of this breed now a day).

Initially I thought of it as a hedonistic ideal implying an escapist lifestyle: complacency, the lack of will to explore, or submission to a chaotic or false reality. Moreover, I found it beneath human dignity to stop being curious about that deceptive specter called truth, or being incensed by the malicious lies I am told? But, as soon turned out, I was too drunk in youthful adventurism to understand its real meaning.

Truth no doubt is a worthy ideal; seeking it has always been the lofty ambition that distinguishes humans from other living species. In the beginning, nature crafted those superstitions that labelled fear and dependency as truth. The more sophisticated social systems, later on, derived the strength of their foundations from an unknowable but certain supernatural force. But the more we came to know, the more we doubted the certain. After the failure of nature and God to deliver 'objectively' verifiable certainty, science made the last attempt to give definite answers to the same 'big' questions, but ended up miserably with the Uncertainty Principle.

In social theory, liberalism (a euphemism for capitalism) leaves the individual free to find any answer he or she likes as long as it doesn't conflict with the business interests. Not much help there. Communism, on the other hand, held the very questions to be irrelevant and exploitative and concerned itself with the material only, which, it claimed, fashioned the inner-self or the spirit. Notwithstanding the moral appeal of communism to struggle for a better future, the idea of a purely biological, materially determined life doesn't give me much to live on. Existentialism is another notable modern philosophy that urges human beings to discover and actualise their true potential; for me, it's a rephrasing of the problem, not a solution.

'To be or not to be?' had always been the question, and, it seems, shall always be. In fact, reviewing major ideologies of the past and the present seems like trying different lenses on an optometrist's trial frame until you can read the images on the last line of the box; the only difference being that here you never find the right match for your eyes. The answer seems to exist but doesn't reveal itself. We try to guess and even be reasonably sure about it, but soon time and events collapse the castles built on our interpretation of those blurry images.

It was at this point that I realised the true import of Keats's immortal sentence quoted in the beginning. The result was a tendency to look at things without any trial lenses. Hence I found in me a passive submission to the uncertain, but this submission is only provisional, and in a delicate balance with active struggle for truth. I must reach after 'fact and reason', but without any haste or irritation, and even if I never get there, I must not lose sight of the essential ingredients of my life -- the natural beauty and the unique individuals that surround me.

In short, I should be content with the certainty I have at any given point, and that I can do through finding common grounds among people and understanding and tolerating other's eccentricities, even relishing in a union of dissimilar individuals. These are the sources of that peace of mind that give me reason to live.

Some intellectuals proudly boast about how they are interested in ideas and not people. I pity them. It's hard for an idea to apply equally to two individuals, let alone a community or a nation.

However, my motive is strictly personal. It's my utopia. Having realised that truth is not out there, I don't see any point in fretting over it. Caring to look above every night to see how beautifully the moon wanes and waxes and the utter delight felt on seeing it round with a milky light; trying to feel the pain of others and, subject to my capacity, helping them assuage it is the summary of my utopia, and no cost appears to be too much for it.

Union is strength

May 1, 2008, an ideal opportunity to revisit the labour laws in Pakistan that blatantly court the employers at the cost of putting workers into misery

By Babar Mirza

In his speech to the National Assembly on obtaining vote of confidence last month, Prime Minister Yousuf Raza Gillani announced that trade unions would be restored and the Industrial Relations Ordinance (IRO) 2002 would be abolished. On the face of it, it sounds like good news: trade unions protect labourers' rights so they should be allowed to function, and IRO 2002 must be some inherently unjust law enacted by Musharraf that should be discarded in toto.

No doubt, the prime minister knew how it would sound. In the presence of such pressing matters as the restoration of judges, war on terror and energy crisis, an announcement concerning perennial labour issues just needed to sound good to evade public scrutiny.

Hardly has anyone pointed out the fact that, unlike student unions, trade unions were not banned during the previous government. Also, a law regulating industrial disputes between employers and workers -- a crucial determinant of the orientation of a government's economic policies -- cannot simply be abolished without having formulated an alternative legislation (in its election manifesto, the PPP had in fact promised to 'review' the IRO 2002). However, the prime minister didn't even suggest anything in this regard. The lack of legal and political insight manifest in the announcement is quite similar to that was exposed in the announcement to abolish the Frontier Crimes Regulations (FCR). The point being that you may want the laws in question to be one way or another, but it would be chaos if you try to get rid of them entirely.

Having a law in a particular way implies following the social consensus on a particular question or favouring one social force over another when there are conflicting interests involved. The IRO 2002 falls in the latter category: it determines power distribution and rules of the game between employers and workers, and any change in this law would translate into increasing the relative power of one party over the other.

Currently, as has also been the case historically, labour laws in Pakistan blatantly court the employers at the cost of putting workers into misery. The first step in this relationship is to exclude as many workers from legal protection as possible with such handy excuses as national security. Thus, the right to unionise -- almost a sine qua non for other labour rights -- is extended only to industrial workers, orphaning a long list of occupations and institutions: agricultural workers, teachers, charity/non-profit workers, export processing zone workers, workers employed at managerial and supervisory posts, and numerous institutions that have even a quixotic connection with security or state.

The second step is to brainstorm about all the procedural requirements which would be so time-consuming and pointless that trade unions could seldom satisfy them. The pre-requisites to announcing a strike are so numerous, protracted and strict that one is deluded into hopelessly imagining a gauntlet upon the Great Wall. Unions of bank employees cannot use bank premises or any other facility for union activities. Time periods for notice, negotiations, conciliation and arbitration seem to attempt at diluting the workers' resolve to go to strike. Even if the resolve endures, the government's power to ban any strike lasting more than 15 days on grounds of 'hardship to community' comes as a lethal axe to the workers' struggle.

The laws facilitating these two steps include the Industrial Relations Ordinance 2002, the Essential Services Act 1952 and the Banking Companies Ordinance 1962. And here we are only talking about laws directly related to unions, which is just the tip of the iceberg.

According to prominent lawyer Faisal H. Naqvi, Pakistan has a body of 160 laws, regulations and rules concerning labour, though most of them are ignored in practice. However, laws relating to the employment contract, wages, working conditions, rest time, maternity benefits, child labour and bonded labour are crucial to gauge the wretched state of labour rights in Pakistan.

The third step involves enforcement. Government officials, police and employers all work together to ensure that the meagre legal rights available to workers on paper are not accessible to them in reality. Ayub and Zia couldn't care less about workers and relied exclusively on the third step to secure themselves and those who were secured through them. Contrary to popular perception, and quite ironically, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto also used the strength of the state to crush the strength of the street in early 1970s. The Labour Policy of 1972 is a record of Z. A. Bhutto's aversion to labour activism. Benazir Bhutto's first term in office lifted the Zia era ban on trade unions, but in her second term, she hardly did anything worth mentioning for workers. Nawaz Sharif also couldn't develop a reputation for adopting pro-labour policies during his two terms (because, for example, he didn't allow trade unions in his own factories).

At present, though both PPP and PML-N have the heavy mandate and pressure of the people to at least make some promises to the workers, they still might succumb to a massive global (read US) pressure to introduce liberal market mechanisms, just like they did in the 1990s by accepting economic reforms suggested by IMF and the World Bank. Much would depend however on the workers themselves. If they consistently put sufficient pressure on the government, they can get their rights restored as well as duly enforced.

Unfortunately, not much exists at present in the name of 'the labour movement'. Due to legal and political constraints and divisions among workers, the percentage of unionized workers is no more than three percent of the national labour force (that is, less than 1.5 millions workers out of total of 51 million). Unlike 1968-69, when students and workers together toppled a military dictatorship, participation of workers in the political events of last year was marked by its absence.

However, the workers can get a good deal if they exploit the political space available now to assert and obtain their rights. They must also realise that no one, not even the present popular government, would give them their universally recognised rights unless they make vigorous and united efforts in this regard. In this regard, the May 1 offers them an ideal opportunity to get together and organise themselves to struggle for their rights.

Two perspectives
A roundup of an intellectuals' debate on blasphemous caricatures

By Babar Mirza

Tariq Ali had predicted the end of worldwide socio-political uproar following the publication of controversial cartoons in a Danish newspaper in September 2005, rather contemptuously, as "with no gains on either side." A superficial look at the relevant events indeed confirms this prediction: protests by Muslims were matched by republications in Europe, leaders of first world countries only conceded abuse of freedom of speech when they could condemn the burning of Danish embassies.

This February, when police arrested several people who allegedly planned to assassinate one the cartoonists, the Danish newspaper, though it had apologised for hurting the feelings of Muslims, reprinted a cartoon in retaliation. Were it not for the loss of human lives and property involved, a cynical comparison of this controversy with the domestic issues in American presidential elections -- a pillow-fighting of 'values' as they are -- might not be much off the mark. However, given the importance of freedom of speech as a fundamental human right, one must go in to nuances to track down the changes in global attitudes in the wake of cartoon controversy.

Religious satire, under the garb of freedom of speech, is as integral to the heart of modern Europeans, as it is repugnant to Muslims. The republications of cartoons in Europe were frequently accompanied by an assertion of the right to freedom of speech. In March 2006, a French newspaper even solicited the signatures of Salman Rushdie, Tasleema Nasreen and half a dozen other 'victims of Islamic militancy' on a statement which compared 'Islamism' with Fascism, Nazism and Stalinism and called for strengthening 'universal secular values.' However, Media's self-defence was not accompanied by their politicians' support.

The Council of Europe, former US president Bill Clinton, Russian President Putin and Irish president Mary McAleese condemned the reluctance of the Danish government to interfere in the issue. Later on, President Bush and British prime minister, while condemning the ensuing violent protests, also acknowledged the restraints on freedom of speech imposed by religious sensitivities. The United Kingdom went so far as to enact a religious hatred law to avoid similar controversies in the country.

However, one must not lose sight of the fact that Western media, at least in principle, is not used to taking instructions from politicians. As was clear from many of the statements accompanying republications of cartoons, newspapers were not indifferent to religious sensitivities, but they genuinely believed that giving in now would hurl them on to a slippery slope of stifling censorship -- a matter of life and death for them.

This compromise -- preferring freedom of speech over provocation -- was most evident in the report of Danish Director of Public Prosecutions which held, almost ridiculously, that although the cartoons might be an 'affront or insult', they were not 'mocking or scornful'. "Slapping some one on the face is not the same thing as swearing at him, and we only punish the later," the Danish DPP seemed to be saying.

One can thus look at the cartoon controversy in one of the two ways: it exposed some genuine loopholes in the Western notion of freedom of speech and thus undermined its legitimacy, or, on the brighter side, it helped to determine the global scope of freedom of speech, and thus expanded its understanding. To determine which of the two views are more plausible, one must also look at the controversy from the viewpoint of Muslims.

No doubt, Muslims were strongly offended by the cartoons, and protested at an unexpectedly large scale. But just like story of the West, the protests were not free of inconsistencies either. The clearly anti-US nature of protests -- though no major newspaper in the US has ever published the cartoons -- has also been well noted. Similarly, the first newspaper to republish the controversial cartoons was Egyptian, though the government and religious organisations did not take it as controversial. However, a similar republication in Yemen was viewed differently, and the editor of the newspaper was sentenced to imprisonment for one year. These facts raise the important question whether Muslims were protesting against the mere depiction of the Prophet or the allegedly defamatory nature of depiction?

Moreover, in a recent conference held at LUMS to discuss the controversy, Dr Nomanul Haq revealed that Islamic law had no concept of blasphemy, which was in fact a medieval Christian concept. He explained that the notions of apostasy (irtidaad), innovation (bid'a) and hudood did not encompass blasphemy, and speaking ill of sacred people, objects or ideas was made an indirect crime in the post-Mongolian period only in so far as it could lead to breach of peace. Given the highly credible views of Dr Haq, one can begin to see that perhaps Muslims were in fact not protesting against the cartoons but venting their anger at something else.

So, in the last analysis, it seems fair to conclude that Western media did realise that globalisation of communities entailed some limitations on freedom of speech, which though legally not recognised, should be morally enforced. Similarly, given the frequency of republications, Muslims also realised that they cannot impose their social values on others in their entirety (even if the editors of the Danish newspaper were convicted of defamation or blasphemy, they would have been imprisoned for two years at most, and not hanged).