What if a Pakistani voter prefers NOTA over Imran Khan, Sharifs or Bhuttos
I voted for the Imran Khan-led Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) in the 2013 elections, and now as the 2018 elections beckon, I’m not very sure about my voting choice. Being a categorical endorser of the power and sanctity of vote, my reluctance wouldn’t be much of a coercer on the day of the elections, but having been a consistent and vehement supporter of the PTI for years, there’s a great deal that is going on in my head today. And most of it not very good, mind you, PTI.
On January 17, 2018, a rally of PTI, Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) and Pakistan Awami Tehreek (PAT), the party of the religious scholar-turned-politician-turned-justice activist, Tahir-ul-Qadri, was staged in Lahore, ostensibly to demand justice for the Model Town tragedy. In June 2014, “14 people were killed and more than 80 others injured in a clash between the police and PAT workers over the issue of barriers placed outside the Minhaj-ul-Quran Secretariat [Dr Qadri’s organisation] in Model Town, Lahore".
The Model Town deaths are a huge stain on the mis-governance of the Punjab government of Shehbaz Sharif, and justice must be done to all the victims, that goes without any ifs and buts. Nonetheless, to piously declare that the Lahore rally was merely a united protest of archrivals – PTI and PPP - against the common foe and not another ploy to further weaken the ruling Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N) government is akin to saying the leaders of the INC and BJP are 4am friends.
New elections, new government, democracy flourishing, things are just the way they should be, but as the wise say, things never are what they seem to be, on any given day.
The options are so limited it’s like trying to present Vanilla as the flavour of the season. Indeed, Vanilla is familiar and comforting, but then so are the 1980s baggy jeans that you find hidden at the back of your old clothes closet and look at fondly but shudder to think how you used to preen in front of the mirror watching your slim waist accentuated in that monstrosity you called the latest fashion. Pakistani politics are exasperating, befuddling yet so simplistic that they seem farcical, and an exercise in bringing to the fore some of the most unsavoury sides of human nature.
Thank the Lord for that surreal phenomenon known as the Trump presidency and its Twitter manifestations, now most of the shenanigans of politicians across the globe, and especially in our region, make the once-fearful Chucky (remember that stocky, scary doll with evil imprisoned inside it?) pale in comparison pitted against the antagonists of a Black Mirror post-apocalyptic episode.
Nawaz Sharif, Asif Zardari and Imran Khan, three men in their 60s, and all clamouring, in an ungainly race, for that elusive chair in Islamabad that has many an intrigue of Game of Thrones but none of the sophisticated ruthlessness, warrior cunning and brutal single-mindedness of Cersei Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen and Arya Stark. The moves of our political leaders are opportunistic, clumsy, blatant and repetitive. Yes.
Imran Khan has an edge though: he has never lived in the majestic white house in Islamabad - the Prime Minister House for the uninitiated, not his 300-kanal Bani Gala house that despite its size is a simple structure, much like its linear-thinking owner. Despite his good intentions and the noble pursuit of a new Pakistan, Khan’s bumbling and fumbling political steps make for a very interesting read in what not to do when pursing the top-most position in the country.
Nawaz Sharif is a veteran of Punjabi and central politics, and his siyasi CV reads like a grade-sheet of an Ivy Leaguer’s final semester GPA. Minister, chief minister, and three-time prime minister, it doesn’t get better than that, right? Sharif has a huge vote bank in Punjab, the biggest province of Pakistan and a game-changer in the electoral power dynamics, and he has a legion of loyal supporters who twist, distort and shred words and reasoning to pieces on electronic and social media in justification of all real and alleged offences of Sharif and his family.
Despite being a proud political protégé of the dictator general Zia-ul-Haq, Sharif has no love lost for the military, alleged to be the real power in Pakistan - depending on who you ask - blames the establishment without naming names, and finds a conspiracy in everything that is done against him, his family and his party. His third-time ouster from power, on allegations of financial impropriety, done through a court order, criticised by all democracy-supporters including me, resulted in the emergence of the newfound clout of his daughter, Maryam, an articulate, dignified, and a strikingly lovely woman in her mid-40s who believes a clam exterior is enough to defend the indefensible. She is also flanked by an army of followers - many whose language would make a Shakespearean reveller blush - on Twitter to push the singular narrative of victimhood, and yes, entitlement.
Nawaz Sharif’s post-disqualification “mujhe kyon nikala” has all the makings of the next “mere pass maa hai” in the political hall of non-fame of immortal words.
Asif Zardari needs no introduction. Son-in-law of Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, widower of two-time prime minister, Benazir Bhutto, Zardari is said to be the real puppet master as the president of Pakistan (2008-2013) silently supervising and orchestrating the PM Yousaf Raza Gillani-government, a tenure labelled as a series of deliberate and unintentional missteps that need a two-volume tome to chronicle. Their good work sidelined, the PPP leaders have became known for their incorruptible corruption and a penchant for extravagant lifestyles.
The next-in-line, Bilawal Zardari-Bhutto, seems like a balanced and a pragmatic man, and PPP’s last hope to regain power outside Sindh, its home province. PPP is the Bhutto name, a la INC and Gandhis, as the cynics tip their hat to dynastic politics in the subcontinent.
And no, Justin Trudeau is not part of this clique despite apparently being a dynastic politician. In his world, you have to prove your worth on your own before getting a big head, bigger feet and biggest ego.
And then there is Imran Khan, the cricketer-turned-philantropist-turned-politician-turned-messiah. The most famous celebrity of Pakistan, an immensely popular politician, attracting tremendous audiences at his rallies and millions of Twitter followers in an ardent swoon of retweets and favourites, Khan’s electoral performances leave much to be desired. Known for his financial integrity, his singular battle is to combat corruption, and his singular mission is to be the prime minister of Pakistan.
Khan’s 2013 demand for investigation into electoral results of four constituencies and PML-N government’s churlish arrogance to react with noncompliance led to the 2014 months-long Islamabad dharna followed by non-stop rallies, interviews and demands of "Go Nawaz Go". Now Khan’s political message comes with the disclaimer: there will be a dharna if what if I say is not granted to me.
Khan despite his reputation of financial incorruptibility is considered a short-sighted politician suffering from the me-myself-I syndrome, and is quite frequently a subject of mind-numbing TV debates and Twitter hashtags. And ergo news of his alleged third marriage to his spiritual advisor gained Kardashian-level virtual traction and Kohli-Sharma wedding media attention. Khan’s half-English sons are not a part of his politics, but his party is a colourful potpourri of old PTI faithfuls and seasoned politicians who seem to have taken a page from Leonardo DiCaprio’s romance playbook for serial non-commitment to long-term relationships.
Not much changes in Pakistan despite myriad, mismatching chants of change. The next elections will be on time, or earlier, who knows, but what is as certain as the sun rising in the east: those who hope to be in power will never be the leaders we want them to be. We are doomed with our bravado-spewing, rhetoric-repeating, power-hungry megalomaniacs whose minions, the mini-me’s, despite their mighty efforts, bringing "laanats and betis" in their seriously un-clever, gratuitously disrespectful retorts and below-the-belt attacks in rallies, on social and electronic media, can’t put the Humpty Dumpty together again. Seriously.
See, that’s why I sometimes think NOTA wouldn’t be too out of place on our electoral ballot papers.
Also read: The ugly conspiracy of silence in Pakistan