Why the Insaafian Dream is not the
Solution
Published in The News, September 25, 2014.
Let me begin by admitting that I agree with Imran Khan. Our
political establishment, by which I mean our major political parties, is full
of people who have no respect for the rule of law, who treat government office
as their own private business and use the police like their own personal
armies. These are mostly people who, absent media cameras, would scoff at the suggestion
that they are “servants” of the people. This must change. But, none of this
justifies the politics of that urban, middle to upper class segment of PTI’s
base that we have come to call Insaafians.
The politics of Insaafians is based on a very simple
premise: Pakistan’s problems can all be traced to the fact that corrupt,
morally bankrupt politicians are in control of government. Their lack of moral
character is mostly attributed to their “feudal” and “uneducated” backgrounds.
By contrast, Imran Khan is an incorruptible leader with a morally unassailable
character. If such a person were to lead Pakistan, they argue, Pakistan would
be transformed, politics would be purified of corruption, rule of law would
rein supreme, and Pakistan would be on its way to becoming a leader in the
world of nations, as it rightly should be.
Let’s suspend disbelief for a minute and accept that Imran
Khan is in fact as unimpeachable as Insaafians say. The question still remains, how will one man’s
moral character lead to the kind of “revolution” that they envision? Obviously,
a functioning government requires more than one moral person or even a few. It
requires a whole cadre of ministers and a diverse array of bureaucrats and
functionaries. How will PTI get these individuals to act so morally? Insaafians
largely respond in two ways. First, they say that Khan would dismiss people who
do not meet his high moral standards. Second, they say that the great leader
will become an example for all other politicians and will inspire them to act
in accordance with the highest of moral standards. This combination of top down
party discipline and trickle-down morality will purify politics of corruption
and vice.
PTI’s rhetoric of “revolution” belies the profoundly conservative
nature of this perspective. What we have here is the vision of a top-heavy and
centrally controlled administrative apparatus tasked with moral uplift and
reform. This vision of a paternal state ushering the country into modernity is hardly
new. It has been the primary justification for army rule in Pakistan since our
founding. Whatever the ideological differences between the regimes of Ayub Khan
, Zia-ul-Haq, and Parvez Musharraf, they all converged on the idea that
civilian politicians could not be trusted to govern Pakistan because they
lacked the appropriate moral character, especially discipline and honor, and
that Pakistan’s progress depended on standing above the corruption of civilian
politics. Similarly, Insaafians insist that our politicians are incorrigible and
politics itself must be transcended.
When PTI leaders claim that they have inspired a whole
generation of youth to participate in the political process, people who otherwise
see politics as a filthy vocation, they mask the fact that what they have
actually inspired is a kind of anti-politics that treats all political negotiation,
dealing and bargaining as a sign of corruption and immorality. When one begins with such an absolutist and
purist vision of what politics ought to be, the solution can only be a
centralized and authoritarian state. Insaafians dream of a state governed by
“educated” urban professionals—a technocracy—who, unlike “feudals,” are not
only more efficient but also morally upright. The argument goes that these
technocrats, untainted by politics, will faithfully serve the people and usher
in a “naya” Pakistan.
This discourse about the moral vice of our politicians
elides the real problem of governance in Pakistan, which is not that our
politicians lack moral character (why should they be less moral than
politicians elsewhere?) but that the majority of Pakistanis lack the capacity
to hold them accountable. This lack of accountability springs from the vast
inequalities of wealth and power that structure the relationship between
Pakistan’s elites (business, landed, and military) and the rest of the
population, including the middle class. Insofar
as PTI’s leadership draws from the same pool of privileged and powerful people
(and it does!), there is no reason to believe PTI will be any more accountable
than any other party.
The passion that drives Insaafians is certainly real. The
problems that Insaafians identify in the political establishment are real
enough, too. But the Insaafian vision of a moral state, purified of politics
and politicians, is not the solution. Certainly, one can argue that PTI will
govern better than PML-N or PPP, but this is a far more humble claim than
“revolution.” It need not come with the sanctimony we have come to expect from
Insaafians.
But, there is still promise here. If the Insaafians can
channel their passion into the difficult work of organizing people and building
up local institutions and, more specifically, organizing cross-class alliances
(lower to middle class) that can stand as a challenge to elite power and
privilege, then we might still find ourselves on the road to accountability and
a more substantive democracy. For this to happen, however, Insaafians must abandon
the framework in which the problem of politics in Pakistan is reducible to the corrupt
moral character of our politicians and instead focus on the structures of power
and inequality that allow elites, all elites, to evade accountability. This requires
first that we awaken from the dream of the great savior, but maybe this is like
asking for a naya PTI.
