DEMOCRACY

Global reversal

Dr Niaz Murtaza 

Published June 11, 2024

DAWN

THIRTY years of history since Francis Fukuyama pronounced the end of history, given the apparent triumph of Western democracy, show democracy in retreat even in the West. The Economist’s Democracy Index score has fallen since 2000, globally, including in the West. It now even calls the US, the oldest one, a flawed democracy. It is not just autocracy, but also populism and religious extremism that undermine liberal tenets. The 15 largest states by population, each numbering over 100 million people and together accounting for nearly two-thirds of the global population, show a sharp reversal towards autocracy after some democratic gains.

India has seen autocracy rising, especially against the minorities, under Narendra Modi since 2014. It’s too early to see his recent electoral setback as a permanent reversal. China’s one-party autocracy has become a personalised populist one under Xi Jinping since 2013. Xi has nixed the term limit for presidents and cemented his philosophy into the constitution, while cracking down against minorities. The US, too, fell prey to a xenophobic populist autocracy under Donald Trump who may yet win a second term, in which he promises to be more autocratic. Staunch US support for Israel’s brutal genocide have undercut its democratic claims.

We next have five states in post-army transitions. After Suharto’s fall in 1997, Indonesia has had regular elections and steady democratisation. But the 2024 elections were won by Prabowo Subianto, an ex-army man accused of serious past abuses, thus raising fears he will rule autocratically. Pakistan moved towards democracy with two free elections in 2008 and 2013 after a decade of army rule, but since then has had two controversial polls and autocracy under hybrid regimes led by the populist Imran Khan and then PML-N.

Nigeria has had regular elections since 1999, but many of them, including the 2023 one, were seriously flawed, The Economist calls Nigeria a hybrid regime with illiberal governance. Brazil, too, has broken from its military past to hold regular elections but saw five years of rule by the xenophobic Jair Bolsonaro who ruled autocratically. He lost to Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva last year. But it is too early to write off populist autocracy. Bangladesh has become a one-party autocracy with its third rigged polls after it ended its neutral caretaker system.

Democratic gains are being lost.

Russia has become a personal fiefdom for the populist Vladimir Putin who may rule for another decade. Mexico bucks the trend in at least not showing a sharp autocratic shift though it is still a hybrid state for the Economist. Five years of relatively successful rule by the leftist (seen by some as a bit populist) Andrés Manuel López Obrador and the recent win of the feminist Claudia Sheinbaum Pardo augur well for Mexico. Ethiopia made promising democratic moves under Abiy Ahmed, which won him a Nobel Prize. Bu since then, it has seen autocracy with the brutal war in Tigray.

Japan has kept its bearings and escaped even populism. The Philippines has held regular elections since the fall of Ferdinand Marcos but had a populist autocracy under Rodrigo Duterte, who has now been replaced by Marcos’s son as president and his own daughter as vice president. Egypt is back to a military-backed autocracy after a brief period of elections won by the Muslim Brotherhood. Finally, Congo, after Mobutu Sese Seko’s fall, saw one to two free elections but has since seen a series of rigged elections and autocratic rule.

Thus, 13 of the 15 states have seen de­­mocratic reversals, about half have seen the rise of populist politics, and about a quarter the rise of religious extremist politics. The trend affects developed as well as underdeveloped states, Western and non-Western ones, states of multiple faiths, and the three largest regions — Asia, Africa and the Americas. The widespread scope suggests that global factors, too, are feeding the trend beyond national ones.

A key factor has been the failure to democratise capitalism and the increasing inequality it has given. After triumphing against communism, capitalism vanquished the gains of even welfare democratic states for the lower classes. A second factor has been the failure to institutionalise democracy globally as the internally democratic West maintains brutal autocracy outside its borders. Thirdly, increased uncertainty spawned by globalisation and new technology has also made it easier for autocrats to stoke fear and consolidate power. Against all this is the absence of a new global progressive ideology to address current global challenges. Only such an ideology can reverse the global reversal of democracy and attract the masses.

The writer is a political economist with a PhD from the University of California, Berkeley.
murtazaniaz@yahoo.com
X: @NiazMurtaza2

Published in Dawn, June 11th, 2024

INDIAN ELECTION

Is re-engagement possible?

There are many obstacles to a thaw in the frosty India-Pakistan relationship.

Maleeha Lodhi 

Published June 10, 2024 

THE BJP’s electoral victory has handed Narendra Modi a third consecutive term in office. In a closely fought election, the Congress party’s INDIA alliance made an unexpectedly strong showing. This left BJP short of a majority to form a government on its own and broke the myth of Modi’s invincibility.

Nevertheless, Modi cobbled together a majority with alliance partners to govern, but with a diminished mandate. He will head a coalition government and have to rely on wily and fickle political allies to survive in power. For a man unused to sharing power, dealing with coalition politics and regional kingmakers will be uncharted territory, as well as contending with a powerful opposition.

This challenging scenario will oblige Modi 3.0 to focus a great deal of attention on domestic political consolidation. That will likely see him double down on his Hindutva ideology to reinforce his Hindu base, especially as the BJP was mostly unable to make inroads beyond its strongholds. Modi and BJP’s vicious anti-Muslim rhetoric during the election campaign was more than just a tool of political strategy. It reflected party ideology and its deep-seated belief about the place of Muslims in ‘Hindu India’.

Its hard-line policy towards Muslims is therefore likely to continue. Coalition partners are unlikely to restrain the BJP in that regard. To consolidate its Hindu constituency, the Modi government might pursue with even greater vigour its Hindutva agenda, involving actions such as a uniform civil code, ending reservations for Muslims, and seizing mosques in Varanasi and Mathura to claim them as old temples. All these are part of its manifesto.

Related to this was the BJP’s resort to Pakistan-bashing in the election campaign. Modi compared his muscular response to cross-border terrorism with the infirm approach of his predecessors, saying he will continue to “hit terrorists in their homes” (“Hum ghar me ghus ke marenge“).His reference was to the air strikes he ordered on Balakot in February 2019 after a terrorist attack in Pulwama in occupied Kashmir. BJP leaders’ other pronouncements on Pakistan were equally belligerent and offensive. This too was part of the party’s strategy to appeal to its Hindu support base, having determined that the Pulwama episode had helped it reap rich electoral dividends in the 2019 Lok Sabha elections.

Again, anti-Pakistan tirades were not just election politics but indicative of the combative approach the BJP government may adopt towards Islamabad. Moreover, domestic political problems will create the temptation to ramp up anti-Pakistan rhetoric and for Modi to further harden his Pakistan policy.

These factors do not create a propitious climate for India-Pakistan re-engagement and, in fact, limit the scope for a thaw in the frosty relationship. The path to normalisation of ties is in any case strewn with formidable difficulties. The diplomatic deadlock between the two neighbours has remained unbroken for the past five years.

Relations were ruptured when India illegally annexed Jammu and Kashmir in August 2019, bifurcated it, and absorbed it into the Indian Union in brazen violation of UN Security Council resolutions. Formal dialogue was suspended by Delhi years earlier. And in February 2019, in the wake of the Pulwama crisis, India slapped 200 per cent customs duty on Pakistani imports in a bid to restrict trade with Pakistan. Islamabad’s response to Delhi’s Kashmir action was to halt trade altogether and downgrade diplomatic relations by recalling its high commissioner.

There are many obstacles to a thaw in the frosty India-Pakistan relationship.

However, backchannel communication between them led in February 2021 to recommitment by both sides to observe a ceasefire on the Line of Control in Kashmir in accordance with a 2003 understanding. This was a significant development following the dangerous confrontation between the two countries in February 2019, when Indian air strikes in Pakistani territory pushed the two countries to the brink of conflict. Agreement on an LoC truce marked a much-needed de-escalation of tensions. The ceasefire has since mostly held. But expectations that this temporary thaw would pave the way for the resumption of a peace process did not materialise.

The diplomatic impasse has since persisted, with verbal clashes punctuating tense relations. Islamabad made the resumption of dialogue contingent upon India rescinding its August 2019 action. Delhi showed no interest in resuming talks, saying that Kashmir was off the negotiating table.

Instead, it continued its repressive policy and human rights violations in occupied Kashmir. Despite Pakistan’s protests, India proceeded in the next three years to undertake a slew of sweeping legal, demographic, and electoral changes in occupied Kashmir aimed at disempowering Kashmiri Muslims. This further vitiated the climate and left ties more fraught.

In May 2023, foreign minister Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari visited India to attend a meeting of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation. But the opportunity for any re-engagement proved elusive as no bilateral meeting took place. Instead, the foreign ministers of the two countries traded stinging barbs, while India’s foreign minister, Subrahmanyam Jaishankar, accused Bilawal of being the “spokesperson of a terrorism industry”.

Meanwhile, another irritant was added last year to the long list of disputes between the two countries when India threatened to unilaterally modify the Indus Waters Treaty’s dispute settlement provisions. It also boycotted a court of arbitration hearing at the Hague on Indian hydroelectric projects on the Chenab and Jhelum rivers disputed by water-stressed Pakistan. The 1960 treaty has for over six decades survived wars, confrontations and tensions between the two countries, but Delhi’s stance put at stake the fate of this vital treaty that governs the sharing and management of trans-border rivers.

Against this fraught backdrop, the prospects for any normalisation of relations appear slim. There is certainly the need for a working relationship and regular communication — even by a back channel — to manage tensions. Norma­li­sa­tion of ties, however, has to be on a reciprocal and mutually beneficial basis.

For now, Delhi’s well-known terms for re-engagement — minus settlement of disputes — Modi’s hostile stance on Pakistan, and BJP leaders’ threats to seize Azad Kashmir, hold out little hope for any forward movement in bilateral ties.

The writer is a former ambassador to the US, UK and UN.
Published in Dawn, June 10th, 2024

The change is welcome, if cosmetic

Jawed Naqvi 

Published June 11, 2024

DAWN

THE change is cosmetic for the Modi government, for at the end of the day, it’s still a Modi government. For the opposition, the elections have brought a new energy and clarity of purpose. Principally, it is the fight for the idea of India as enshrined in the constitution.

The poorest voters feared the 400 seats sought by Narendra Modi were to subvert Dr Ambedkar’s statute book of rights and duties, which has so far guarded their core interests. They are the ones who cut the BJP to size.

If we remember Nehru’s election symbol, it was a pair of bullocks, indicating the Congress party’s rural base. After Manmohan Singh surrendered it to the stock exchange, Rahul Gandhi is putting the focus back on villages, their caste challenges, and the quest for jobs for their unemployed youth swarming the cities. The two ideals stated in the preamble that irk the Hindu right greatly are the promise to defend ‘secularism’ and ‘socialism’. And both have surfaced promptly in the opposition’s campaign. It is not uncommon in Delhi’s drawing rooms to hear the Congress being cursed for egalitarian appeal but it appears to have been reinvented with Rahul Gandhi’s reinvention of himself.

On the other side, Prime Minister Modi has lost his swagger given the compulsions of yielding to powerful regional satraps pressing their own interests, which takes a toll. Listening to others for the first time would be a test of patience for him, for he has no experience whatsoever of working with a coalition — not in Gujarat, not in Delhi.

Equally importantly, meantime, is his giving up the habit of referring to himself in the third person. Modi’s guarantee. Modi’s promise. These have been replaced with NDA this, NDA that. He is lampooned more freely since the results downsized him on June 4. A caricature shows West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee measuring his hollowed chest with a tape, and exclaiming: “20 inch!” She, indeed, deflated the BJP in West Bengal by more than the 36 inches she expunged from Modi’s boast of having a 56-inch chest.

All this is greatly amusing if the trimming of his wings is what one should be rejoicing over. True also are the visuals about Muslims, where the brakes have been evidently applied on abusive trolling against them.

Has Modi given up his belief of being a divine avatar, different from fellow humans?

But has Modi given up his belief of being a divine avatar, different from fellow humans? None can say for sure, for Modi is Modi. How could he give up all his ingrained habits and beliefs in one go?

On the first day in office — while curiously delaying the allocation of portfolios to 72 ministers amid rumours of a tussle — he signed off a routine money transfer to the farmers’ fund, only to claim to TV cameras that he was a lover of farmers. This gave the Congress a chance to interrupt his reverie. “The headline management and PR campaign of the one-third prime minister has once again started from the first day of his third term,” said Jairam Ramesh. Opposition MP Supriya Sule ad-libbed that the need was to wipe off the farmers’ debt — something Modi readily does for his corporate associates — not give them a dole.

Beyond the cosmetic veneer is the question: can he solve India’s problems of unemployment and biting inflation? Not within the confines of the neoliberal top-down economy he embraced, in fact, inherited from Manmohan Singh’s government. He gave five kilos of rice to the poor with his photo beaming from every bag or gas cylinder given in heavily advertised charity. During the campaign, he was seen asking the people to return the favour — and would they not. Indeed, many women voted for him.

Would that solve the problems of yawning disparity, sub-Saharan human development indices in BJP-ruled states? Very unlikely. When asked about the telling economic disparity, Mr Modi had famously snapped: “Shall I make everyone poor?” If that answer isn’t tweaked or edited soon, things would begin to look pretty much as they did.

On the wider landscape, there is the challenge of social harmony. In the early hours of Friday, shortly before Mr Modi was unanimously asked to head the NDA group as a prelude to his third swearing-in, two Muslim men were lynched in BJP-ruled Chhattisgarh.

According to The Hindu, the residents of Uttar Pradesh — Guddu Khan and Chand Miya Khan — were found dead while a third, Saddam Qureshi, sustained injuries in the Arang area of Raipur district. A common relative of Chand and Saddam said the three were lynched by a mob. He claimed they were waylaid, their vehicle was punctured, and they were thrashed and thrown off a bridge, causing the death of Chand and Guddu and injuries to Saddam. ‘Nine to ten persons’, some with previous history of cow vigilantism, have been questioned but a case was registered only for culpable homicide, not murder.

In Jammu, on Saturday, the day of the swearing-in, suspected Kashmiri gunmen opened fire on a bus carrying Hindu pilgrims to the Vaishno Devi Temple. The bus fell into a gorge killing nine and injuring several.

How shall we read both the incidents? Is India headed for more of the same under Modi’s new term? Or will things change because the two centrist allies are expected to heal the mistrust sowed between Hindus and Muslims in Kashmir and elsewhere? Are we to expect anything to improve the lot of Manipur where anti-Christian violence erupted again following the elections when the BJP retained power in the state assembly and the Congress won two MPs?

Meanwhile, an NDA ally from Maharashtra refused to take the oath of office, rejecting a junior minister’s portfolio. Praful Patel has been a ranking minister in earlier cabinets. There’s trouble brewing for Mr Modi ahead of crucial state polls in BJP-ruled Maharashtra and Haryana in October.

The writer is Dawn’s correspondent in Delhi.
jawednaqvi@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, June 11th, 2024

NDA, not BJP

Umair Javed

Published June 10, 2024 

DAWN

RESULTS of the Indian general election from this past week took most observers by surprise. A comfortable return to power for the BJP was the dominant analytical consensus prior to June 4. A return to power did take place, but Modi’s perch looks a lot more precarious.

Preliminary number-crunching and analysis in the handful of days since the results were announced reveal some key trends. As per Abishek Jha’s analysis for The Hindustan Times, a few primary statistics tell the story of this election. The first is that while the BJP’s vote-share remains roughly the same, its median vote share fell by around four per cent, the implication being that for the median seat it contested, BJP received a smaller share of the votes than in 2019.

Another key aspect was a return to electoral competitiveness for the Congress. Its median vote share went up by nearly 10pc to 38.8pc in the seats that it contested, while its rate of success in all contested seats also increased by nearly 2.5 times to 30pc.

A decline in the BJP’s median vote share and a concurrent rise in the Congress’s meant that the average victory margin per seat in this election fell by about 5pc compared to the last election. BJP alone lost 65 seats, while the INDIA alliance gained over 100. Overall, these figures reveal a decidedly more competitive election than the last two.

It is worth focusing on regional variations that can help explain the overall outcome of India’s recent polls.

So what explains these numbers, especially when the incumbent’s pre-results posturing was about crossing 400 seats, and most exit polls had them comfortably above 300?

Distilling these results to a single factor impacting a polity of 900 million voters would be amiss, given the scale of India’s political diversity. Ins­t­ead, it’s worth focusing on regional variations that can help explain the overall outcome. A few astu­­te observers, like Yogendra Yadav, correctly read the tea-leaves prior to the results by focusing on ground-level sentiment in Uttar Pradesh. It was, in fact, results in UP (along with Mahara­shtra) that help explain the BJP’s diminished position.

Grassroots accounts from UP point to several factors at play. One was a growing level of frustration with jobless growth; ie, stories about a rapidly rising GDP but without a concurrent rise in employment, especially at the lower tiers of income distribution. Colloquially referred to as India’s K-shaped post-pandemic recovery, recent successes in boosting GDP growth stand accompanied with widening inequality. Gains at the top are highly visible, with a new class of nouveau riche consuming conspicuously in the big cities, but are largely missing for poorer households in small towns, peri-urban localities, and villages (ie, mofussil areas).

This is also closely linked to India’s strange structural transformation, where agriculture’s share in value addition has fallen sharply, but its share in total employment remains persistently high. Unequal 8pc growth makes for good headlines, enriches upper-income households, and cultivates aspiration among upwardly mobile segments. But it also leaves large swathes of the population locked out of the benefits of growth with no clear pathway of getting in.

Observers were of the view that the post-Covid expansion in welfare programmes would be sufficient to offset the foundational flaw of jobless growth. It turns out that while welfare did shore up support for some key segments, it was not enough to keep lower/scheduled caste groups on their side. This is visible through the fact that the BJP lost more seats reserved for scheduled caste candidates than general category seats.

Crucially, these results also show the (current) limits of a politics that draws on divisive, communal mobilisation, especially in the face of economic uncertainty. The fact that BJP lost in the constituency of Faizabad, where Ram Mandir was recently inaugurated with much fanfare, and in the town of Banswara in Rajasthan, where Modi made references to mangalsutras being stolen by Muslims, is fairly revealing. A section of the electorate appears to be either exhausted with communal rhetoric or pays less attention to it in the face of a livelihood crisis. Either way, it shows that there is political space for alternative narratives that prioritise inequality and social justice.

All of these factors notwithstanding, the BJP and its allies crossed a simple majority threshold overall, and made gains in some southern states like Kerala. This salience, even if somewhat dimi­nished, shows that any predictions of an impending downfall or change in government are terribly premature. The party remains the most popular in India and will continue to set the terms of politics.

Moving forward, a few things are worth keeping an eye out for to get a sense of the short and medium-term direction of Indian politics. The fir­st is the type of constraints placed on the BJP by its coalition partners, Nitish Kumar and Chan­dra­babu Naidu, who have a decidedly different type of politics than the leading party. This may be visible in relaxing the authoritarian crackdown aga­inst opposition leaders, toning down of an abrasively communal politics, and perhaps diverting greater attention to redistributive policymaking.

The second trend is Modi’s stature within the BJP. This was the first election since 2001 that he was directly involved in which did not result in a simple majority for his party. There is some opposition to Modi-Shah’s dominance within the party, colloquially dubbed the RSS faction, led by Nitin Gadkari. These results may give them a little more space to manoeuvre internally, recalibrating the internal balance of power that had shifted decisively in Modi’s direction.

Finally, some predicted that a heavy mandate for Modi may lead to normalisation of ties with Pakistan, given the latter’s apparent readiness. With that mandate out of the window, the immediate direction of India-Pakistan relations may be determined by India’s domestic political compulsions. Will talking to Pakistan leave the government more exposed to hawks even further to the right? This uncertainty could mean a continuation of the status quo for the near future.

The writer teaches sociology at Lums.
X: @umairjav

Published in Dawn, June 10th, 2024

Fears for India’s Muslims as Modi’s Hindu nationalists win third term

AFP Published June 4, 2024

Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi gestures, at the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) headquarters in New Delhi, India, June 4. — Reuters

For India’s 200-million-plus Muslim minority, a third term for the Hindu-nationalist ruling party brings renewed fears for their future in the constitutionally secular country.

Many Indian Muslims worry Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s right-wing Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) will relegate them to “second-class citizens” in a Hindu nation.

“During the last 10 years, Muslims were publicly targeted, abused, and humiliated,” said housewife Shabnam Haque, 43, in Jharkhand’s state capital Ranchi.

“Hate against the community is increasing day by day and Muslims are being dehumanised. We fear this trend will increase.”

Demonstrators gather along a road scattered with stones following clashes between supporters and opponents of a new citizenship law at Bhajanpura area of New Delhi on February 24. — AFP/File


But while Modi celebrated victory, the opposition was stronger than pundits had predicted, and the BJP is dependent on allies without an overall majority of its own for the first time in a decade.
‘Very scared’

For some, the reduction of BJP seats offered a glimmer of hope.

“Diverse political representation is crucial for a healthy democracy, and a strong opposition is vital,” said Salman Ahmad Siddiqui.

The 42-year-old banker comes from Lucknow in Uttar Pradesh — India’s most populous state and the heartland of the Hindu faith — where the BJP lost its majority.

“The election results are unsurprising, reflecting a growing sense of unease among young people and the middle class,” Siddiqui added.

People react during a clash with police at a protest that turned violent in Mumbai. — Reuters

But Rahman Saifi, 27, a social activist from Uttar Pradesh, said the BJP still had a fresh mandate to drive forward its right-wing policies for its faithful Hindu followers.

“Even with a reduced majority, they may continue to push their agenda of establishing a Hindu Rashtra (country) in India,” Saifi said.

“It’s concerning.”

Hindu activists will likely be emboldened to call for more religious sites to be taken from Muslims.

Those demands have grown louder since Modi inaugurated a grand temple to the deity Ram in January, built on the grounds of a centuries-old mosque in Ayodhya razed by Hindu zealots in 1992.

“Muslims are very scared that […] they will implement anti-Muslim laws and policies in a dictatorial manner and promote hatred in society,” shopkeeper Anwar Siddiqui said in the northern state of Uttarakhand — a BJP heartland.

Far to the south, Muhammad Samshuddeen, 25, a shopkeeper in the tech hub of Bengaluru said that “India is a secular country for all religions,” adding, “We are here to live peacefully too.”

In Indian-occupied Kashmir, the Modi government’s 2019 decision to bring the region under New Delhi’s direct rule — and the subsequent clampdown — has been deeply resented.

The BJP’s third term will mean “further hardship”, 53-year-old Riyaz Ahmed from Srinagar said.

“We have been suffocated,” he said.

“If anyone tries to speak the truth you are uncertain you will remain free.”
‘Divisive agenda’

Modi was accused during campaigning of ramping up rhetoric targeting India’s key religious divide in a bid to rally the Hindu majority to vote.

At his rallies, he referred to Muslims as “infiltrators” and claimed the main opposition Congress party would redistribute the nation’s wealth to Muslims if it won.

“The BJP contested this election on a communal and divisive agenda,” said Anwar Siddiqui, the shopkeeper.

The BJP has promised to introduce in its third term a new common civil code for the country, which minorities fear could encroach on their religious laws.

India’s 1.4 billion people are subject to a common criminal law, but rules on personal matters such as marriage, divorce and inheritance vary based on the customary traditions of different communities and faiths.

A policeman walks past a burning vehicle during a protest in Mumbai. — Reuters

Sayeed Alam, 32, a construction worker in Gaya in eastern Bihar state, feared that “Muslims will be treated as second-class citizens”.

“We are already facing a lot of problems,” Alam said.

“Who knows what will happen next?”

While Modi had hoped to win more seats to push through policies without relying on coalition allies, the BJP still wields enormous power.

“What the community really fears is whether the new government will adopt a more hardline approach towards Muslims,” said Soroor Ahmad, 63, a newspaper columnist based in Bihar’s capital Patna.

But for 27-year-old Mohammad Rehan in Delhi, the BJP’s dented parliamentary strength represented hope for change in the future.

“The BJP cannot stay in power forever,” he said.

PAKISTAN

THE RISE AND FALL OF THE LABOUR MOVEMENT

Karachi’s labour uprising serves as a testament to the power of organised labour, in stark contrast to Pakistan’s trade union landscape today. What fed this movement and what led to its downfall?

LONG READ

Zia Ur Rehman 

Published June 9, 2024 

The Bab-e-Mazdoor Shaheed Qabristan monument stands at the entrance of Frontier Colony, a predominantly Pashtun, lower-income neighbourhood within Karachi’s largest industrial area, SITE. Erected by the Pakistan Institute of Labour Education and Research (PILER) and the Shaheed Mazdoor Yadgari Committee, the monument pays solemn tribute to the workers killed during the June 1972 labour movement.

On June 7, 1972, police opened fire on unarmed workers protesting overdue wages against the management of a textile mill. The next day, during the funeral procession of one of the slain workers, the crowd’s attempt to reach the Governor’s House escalated into a protest, resulting in further violence and fatalities at Banaras Chowk. Several more workers lost their lives. This brutal two-day confrontation sent shockwaves throughout Karachi, the industrial heart of Pakistan, leading to a citywide strike that halted economic production for 13 days.

The uprising occurred amid the political turbulence following East Pakistan’s secession to become Bangladesh just a year earlier. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s newly formed government, with the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) advocating socialist ideals, was suddenly at odds with the working class it claimed to champion.

In a national address on February 10, 1972, Bhutto, then both president and martial law administrator, promised new benefits for workers but also issued a stern warning against the tactics of “gherao [encirclement]” and “jalao [arson]” used to pressure industrial management. “The strength of the street will be met by the strength of the state,” Bhutto declared. By June, his government had acted on this warning.

Karachi’s industrial sector was famously brought to a standstill in June 1972 following clashes between the police and disgruntled labourers. This triggered the emergence of Karachi’s labour uprising, which serves as a testament to the power of organised labour, in stark contrast to Pakistan’s trade union landscape today. What fed this movement and what led to its downfall?

The 1972 labour movement that disrupted Karachi’s industrial sector is a significant chapter in Pakistan’s political and labour history. This piece draws on interviews with Bawar Khan, a prominent militant figure in the movement, and others, along with a review of existing literature, to reconstruct the events of those critical days. It explores the rise of the movement, its successes and struggles, and its lasting impact on the fight for workers’ rights in Pakistan.

A NETWORK OF LABOUR SOLIDARITY

Like thousands of others from various parts of the then-North West Frontier Province (NWFP, now Khyber Pakhtunkhwa), teenaged Bawar arrived in Karachi from Swat in the mid-1960s, seeking opportunities in the city’s booming textile industry.

“School wasn’t for me,” he admits with a smile. “So, I ran away from Swat to Karachi, twice actually. Finally, my father convinced me to stay and find work here.”

His first job was at Hafiz Textile in the SITE area. Back then, mill owners personally interviewed potential employees. When the mill owner saw Bawar, he remarked, “You seem quite young.” Bawar’s quick reply — “Young, but I eat too!” — earned him a smile and a chance. Those nine months at Hafiz Textile were Bawar’s introduction to the world of textile mill work and labour activism. He honed his skills and eventually moved on to other mills, finally landing at Zebtan Textile Mills around 1966.

Dawn’s front page headline on June 8, 1972 | Dawn Archives

At that time, the country was simmering with anti-Ayub Khan sentiment, and the labour movement was gaining momentum. Bawar recalls that the workers, including him, participated in strikes against Ayub’s dictatorship.

“Usman Baloch was our leader and mentor,” Bawar recalls with respect. “He taught us how to fight for our rights.” Baloch was a towering figure in labour activism during the 1960s and 1970s, organising workers across various industries and the informal sector — from construction workers at Lea Market to textile mill workers in SITE and government institutions.

Bawar also mentions Kaneez Fatima, Shah Raza Khan and leftist student leaders, such as Karamat Ali (now PILER’s executive director), who helped mobilise workers by spending much of their time with the workers at their deras [male-only shared houses] in labour chalis [settlements] in SITE.

Bawar’s dedication resonated with his fellow workers, leading to his election as president of the Zebtan Textile workers union.

When Yahya Khan took power in 1969, Bawar was arrested at the mill gate and sent to Landhi Children’s Jail — due to his young age — for a period of time. Around this time, a powerful labour alliance, the Muttahida Mazdoor Federation (MMF), was formed by figures such as Nabi Ahmed, SP Lodhi and Usman Baloch. Eventually, Bawar rose through the ranks, becoming the MMF’s vice president and a key leader of the workers’ action committee, which united thousands of workers from over 75 industrial units across Karachi.

Bawar explains, “Back then, if there was an issue at one mill, all workers from all mills would gather there to pressure the owner.” This period also saw the worker occupation of Valika Textile Mills in SITE in March 1971.

Laurent Gayer, a senior research fellow at the Centre de Recherches Internationales (CERI)-Sciences Po in Paris, observes that the meteoric rise of Bawar and Baloch signalled a profound change in the profile of trade union leaders in Karachi. “They rose from the shop floor and contrasted with the more educated, more polished professional trade unionists, who were often Urdu-speaking and rarely had any experience of industrial work themselves,” says Gayer, author of the forthcoming book Gunpoint Capitalism: Enforcing Industrial Order in Karachi.

Thus, the movement against forced removals, exploitative mill owners, and unfavourable government policies continued through June 1972.

THE EVENTS OF JUNE 1972

“It all begins with Feroz Sultan Mills,” Bawar says as he recalls what unfolded on June 7, 1972, and the firestorm that ensued. It was a typical day, with Bawar addressing workers at the gate of Zebtan Textile Mills during a shift change, a regular practice for labour leaders to mobilise support.

“News came in,” Bawar remembers, “that police had brutally baton-charged workers at Feroz Sultan Mills who were protesting for their overdue wages.” Bawar, along with hundreds of Zebtan workers who had just finished their shift, marched towards Feroz Sultan Mills to show solidarity.

As they approached the mill, chanting slogans against the management, the situation escalated. Police stationed at the gate opened fire indiscriminately, according to Bawar. The scene turned chaotic.

“Two of our colleagues,” Bawar says, “Painda Muhammad and Muhammad Shoaib, both from Zebtan Textiles, were killed in the firing, while many others were injured.” Police took Painda’s body inside the mill and continued firing from above, while enraged workers retaliated with stones, carrying Shoaib’s body away from the violence.

Workers brought Shoaib’s body to the Eidgah Ground in Pathan Colony. Labour leaders and workers from across the city gathered, delivering speeches until late at night. The workers unanimously decided to hold a massive funeral procession for Shoaib, culminating in prayers at the Governor’s House.

On the morning of June 8, thousands of workers converged at Pathan Colony. As the procession reached Banaras Chowk, a heavy police contingent, led by the then Deputy Commissioner (DC) Kunwar Idrees, awaited them. Tear gas failed to deter the crowd. Suddenly, police opened fire, killing several workers, all from Swat and Mardan districts, and injuring dozens more.

News of the killing spread like wildfire. Bawar, along with other labour leaders on the action committee, sprang into action. In defiance of the killings, workers across Karachi shut down factories in a citywide strike. Bawar recounts, “All major textile mills and other industries were brought to a standstill by protesting workers.”

Karamat Ali, PILER’s executive director, in his book Raahguzar Tau Dekho [Assess The Way], notes that while the labour leadership scrambled to strategise the next steps, the rank-and-file workers took matters into their own hands. He notes, “The entire industrial areas of SITE and Landhi, as well as Korangi and Kotri Hyderabad, were brought to a halt by the spontaneous worker-led shutdown.”

Production across the city plummeted. Karachi, the industrial heart of Pakistan, was effectively paralysed.

Nabi Ahmed (pictured above addressing the crowd) and Usman Baloch (standing next to Ahmed with his arms folded) at a gathering at Frontier Colony on June 8, 1972: in defiance of the killings, workers across Karachi shut down factories in a citywide strike | Raahguzar Tau Dekho


AN UNEASY TRUCE

With mills shut down for days, financial hardship gripped the workers, most of them daily wage earners. “The leadership felt the pressure and decided to negotiate with the government,” Bawar says.

Labour leaders presented a 14-point demand charter, which included an inquiry into the firing, action against responsible officers, the release of all workers arrested after the incident and the withdrawal of the cases against them. Other demands addressed civic issues, such as access to water, gas and electricity, faced by workers in the SITE area settlements, such as Frontier Colony and Pathan Colony. Regularisation of these settlements was also stipulated.

“They built makeshift dwellings because they had no other option,” Bawar explains. “But the Karachi Municipal Corporation would demolish them or demand bribes, claiming the land was unauthorised.” The workers toiled for eight hours in the mills, only to face another eight-hour struggle, just to find water in these neglected areas.

Kamran Asdar Ali, an academic who teaches anthropology at the University of Texas, Austin, in his paper The Strength of the Street Meets the Strength of the State: The 1972 Labour Struggle in Karachi, writes that the government seemed reluctant to address the action committee’s core demand — the suspension of implicated officials: “Some leaders complained about the state representatives dragging their feet: they would meet the provincial labour minister, Abdus Sattar Gabol, on one day; the governor of Sindh, Mir Rasool Baksh Talpur, on the second; and the chief minister, Mumtaz Bhutto, on the third. In turn, all three government officials relayed their discussions to Bhutto, who was on a foreign trip.”

However, the labour movement faced an unexpected complication. The National Awami Party’s (NAP) Wali faction’s local leaders not only opposed the movement in the localities but also actively undermined it, according to Bawar. They did this by taunting the workers with slogans such as, “Khoon baicha pani liya [sold blood, took water]”, creating division and mistrust.

To counter this and secure a public commitment, the labour leaders decided that the agreement with the government would be announced at Nishtar Park, inviting labour leaders and workers from across the city.

“At the rally,” Bawar reveals, “the government announced its agreement to meet our demands if the strike ended.” But the announcement sparked outrage among charged workers. They chanted “Khoon ka badla khoon [blood for blood],” demanding the arrest of police officer DSP Noor Khan, who had ordered the firing. Nabi Ahmed tried to calm them, but to no avail.

Seeing the growing tension, Baloch called Bawar to the stage. “I addressed the workers,” Bawar says. “I told them that we had accepted the agreement because further financial hardship would only weaken us. We can’t fight shopkeepers, who are not lending rations to us or our families. We’re securing what we can and are preparing for future battles. Our destiny lies in a ’mazdoor kisan raj [workers-peasants rule].”

Bawar’s words resonated with the workers. They hoisted him on their shoulders in agreement. “I told them to take one more day off,” he says, “and the factories would pay them for it.” Finally, after a gruelling 14 days, the factories reopened.

Bawar Khan (pictured above), now in his 70s, is living a quiet retirement in his village in Swat | Courtesy of the author



THE CRACKDOWN

Following initial negotiations with labour leaders, the Bhutto government took a sharp turn towards repression. While Bhutto’s labour reforms offered unprecedented benefits, such as inflation allowances, social security and increased worker participation in management, these progressive measures were coupled with a severe crackdown on dissent, particularly against labour leaders.

The government invoked the Defence of Pakistan Rules (DPR), a tool previously used to silence political opposition, to target dissenters, including vocal labour leaders. This crackdown heavily relied on the Federal Security Force (FSF), a paramilitary force created by Bhutto to quell dissent after a police strike in March 1972. Media reports from that time documented the detention of 58 labour leaders, including Bawar and Baloch, from Karachi, Gharo, Hyderabad, Kotri and Kashmore, within a year of the June 1972 unrest.

“From June 1972 onwards,” Bawar recounts, “the government kept arresting and releasing me, a cycle that went on for several years. They fabricated charges, including cattle theft, to justify these arrests.” He estimated spending a total of three years in various provincial jails under Bhutto’s rule.

When Gen Ziaul Haq took power in July 1977, he ended the DPR cases against political, labour and student leaders, including Bawar.

FACING OPPOSITION, FORGING UNITY

The 1972 Karachi labour movement drew its strength from a confluence of social, political and economic factors. Scholars and labour leaders offer various perspectives on its success, highlighting the city’s unique context and evolving worker organisation strategies.

Asdar Ali emphasises Karachi’s explosive growth — fuelled by industrialisation between 1947 and 1972, with a population increase of 217 per cent — as a factor in the labour movement. More than half of Karachi’s growth since the early 1950s is attributed to migration from India and from rural and other urban areas of the country, he writes. He further explains how the practice of “jobbers” — recruitment of workers from specific districts in the NWFP and Southern Punjab through economic and social coercion, often based on ethnicity — created a divided workforce with limited bargaining power.

However, by the late 1960s, a radicalised left-wing movement had emerged, challenging these “pocket unions” controlled by management, Asdar Ali writes. This movement aimed to organise workers into independent trade unions and address the complex ethnic and social hierarchies within workplaces and worker colonies. Gayer says that Bhutto’s coming to power had galvanised workers and many believed that this would mark the beginning of the “mazdoor kisan raj.”

In his August 1972 article ‘From Pathan Colony to a Workers’ State’ in the Pakistan Forum journal, academic Iqbal Khan noted that the June 1972 state violence against workers was not surprising. He highlighted that the period leading up to the incident, particularly following the announcement of the Bhutto government’s labour policy, saw a significant surge in working-class activism, which he described as “an explosion in working-class militancy.”

He writes, “Strikes and gheraos have become common, everyday occurrences in hundreds of mills throughout Pakistan; in many industrial units, there has been an almost perpetual state of war between management and workers, often involving bloody clashes.” To underscore the scale of this unrest, he cited official statistics. In Punjab alone, from January to May 1972, there were 63 strikes and 55 gheraos. The situation in Sindh was even more volatile, with 176 factories gheraoed — 150 in Karachi and 26 in Hyderabad.

Despite its strength, the 1972 Karachi labour movement faced significant challenges. Bawar highlighted widespread opposition, not just from established parties such as Bhutto’s PPP and NAP (Wali group), but also from some communist leaders because of their pro-China and pro-Soviet divisions. Even the Islamist Jamaat-i-Islami (JI) opposed the movement on religious grounds. Bawar reveals, “The Jamaat deemed the demand for profit-linked bonuses, separate from regular wages, as ‘haram’ in Islam.”

However, the movement achieved a remarkable feat — overcoming ethnic divisions within the workforce. According to Asdar Ali, the Mohajir-dominated trade union leadership, which played a crucial role in advocating for labour rights in Karachi, also managed to “contain, much to its advantage, the cultural and linguistic tensions between the more highly skilled local workers (Mohajirs) and the less skilled up-country migrants (Pashtun/Southern Punjabis) through a rhetoric of class solidarity and proletarian politics.”

As Bawar observes, “At that time, all ethnicities, Pashtuns, Urdu-speakers, Punjabis, Baloch, etc, were working together in the mills and participated in labour politics.” However, this unity proved fragile. Bawar laments that the rise of ethnic politics during Zia’s dictatorship, particularly the emergence of the Mohajir Qaumi Movement (MQM), fractured this working-class solidarity. “It caused a huge loss to the working class, particularly the poor labourers,” he says.

The family of a labourer, Nekzada, mourns his death after he was fired upon by the police during protests on June 8, 1972: police opened fire on protestors who had converged at Pathan Colony, killing several workers and injuring dozens more | Dawn Archives

BHUTTO’S CRACKDOWN: BALANCING ACT OR BETRAYAL?

Academics and labour leaders offer various explanations for Bhutto’s use of force.

One key factor highlighted by some academics is the precarious economic situation Bhutto inherited. Academic Iqbal Khan, writing for the Pakistan Forum, emphasises the near-collapsed state of the economy and dwindling foreign currency reserves and views allowing worker actions to intimidate capitalists as economic suicide.

Some view it as a delicate balancing act. Bhutto’s nationalisation programme itself could have been seen as a concession to labour demands, diverting attention from further worker activism. Perhaps Bhutto saw stabilising the economy and consolidating power after a turbulent period as more important.

The academic Tausif Ahmed Khan explains, “Industrialists, already displeased with Bhutto’s nationalisation policies, had been further alienated by a labour movement. By cracking down, Bhutto aimed to appease them and maintain economic stability.” He also suggests Bhutto might have aimed to project a moderate image to the United States, distancing himself from socialist ideals associated with strong labour movements.

Karamat Ali says Bhutto’s dictatorial and feudal mindset ultimately hindered constructive dialogue with the labour movement. According to him, “Bhutto touted his pro-worker actions, such as nationalising industries, appointing labour representatives to directorships and increasing worker profit-sharing, and therefore became resentful of labour criticism and viewed their activism as a threat to his authority.”

The labour movement also exposed tensions within the PPP. Radical elements, such as Mairaj Mohammad Khan, accused the government of betraying its pro-worker stance by appeasing industrialists. This internal conflict highlighted a growing divide between the party’s leftist wing and more conservative elements that feared prolonged strikes could destabilise the government.

Tausif Ahmed Khan argues that the weakened labour movement created a vacuum that Islamist parties like JI readily exploited. “This, combined with the rise of the Pakistan National Alliance [PNA] movement, swayed many Mohajir and Pashtun voters in Karachi towards the right-wing,” he says.

He also asserts that a vibrant labour movement could have bolstered Karachi’s historically liberal character, shaped by student and worker activism: “Its decline might have paved the way for right-wing parties to gain traction. This, coupled with the PPP’s struggles to establish a strong presence in Karachi, could explain the party’s ongoing challenges in the city.”

Many leaders and workers, primarily Pashtuns, later joined mainstream parties, particularly the National Democratic Party (NDP), according to the Veteran labour lawyer Manan Baacha. This party, formed after Bhutto banned the NAP for alleged subversive activities, became a new political home for these figures. Baloch, for instance, joined the Mir Ghous Bux Bizenjo-led Pakistan National Party.

“The PPP’s handling of the labour movement through an ethnic lens,” Baacha notes, “deterred them from joining that party.” He cites the 1977 national assembly elections, where Sherbaz Mazari, the NDP leader, defeated the PPP candidate in Baldia Town and SITE industrial areas, under the banner of the PNA — a testament to the shift in worker allegiance.

WEAKENING OF THE MOVEMENT

Karamat Ali, in his book, details how mill owners and the labour department collaborated to suppress worker activism by circulating photographs of identified labour leaders, creating a climate of fear. This repression coincided with a period of economic hardship. “The textile crisis,” he explains, “which heavily impacted the sectors with high worker mobilisation, was followed by the oil crisis, leading to widespread industrial closures

“With local industries crippled,” Karamat Ali adds, “many active trade unionists, primarily from the Swat Valley, were forced to return to their hometowns or seek work abroad in the Gulf countries until early 1975. This mass exodus significantly weakened the Karachi labour force, depriving the movement of its vital core.”

Baacha characterises the movement as “haadsaati” or ‘accidental’ and argues that this unplanned nature, while successful initially, ultimately hindered its long-term impact. The movement lacked the crucial element of political backing, causing it to lose momentum.

Mill owners, emboldened by Zia’s dictatorship, implemented a contract system and mass layoffs, which further weakened the labour movement, according to Baacha. He says, “Trade union leaders at the industry level became part of ‘pocket unions’ and began playing the role of ‘contractors’.”

Bawar’s story exemplifies the impact on individual workers. “After the imprisonments, I was blacklisted,” Bawar recounts. “No one was hiring me as a worker.” After months of unemployment, workers collected donations to send Bawar’s family back to Swat and helped him join the shipping industry as a seaman, where he worked for 12 years. Later, he worked as a labourer in the United States, until recently, when he returned to Pakistan permanently.

THE REMAINS OF THE DAY

The 1972 Karachi strike remains a significant event, a testament to the power of organised labour even when it falls short of its initial goals. Today, however, Pakistan’s trade union landscape presents a stark contrast. Weakened by fragmentation, economic shifts and government policies, their ability to effectively advocate for workers’ rights remains a significant challenge.

Bawar, now in his 70s, is living a quiet retirement in Dherai village in Swat. In early 2022, he visited Karachi to reconnect with old friends, where labour groups hosted programmes in his honour. “Unfortunately,” he says, “the situation for workers today, particularly in Karachi, is worse than in 1972. But there is no labour movement or trade union because of the divisions among workers on various grounds.”

“Our movement was not just about pay,” he reflects, “it was about respect, about being seen. Karachi belonged to the workers in 1972. It was a different kind of power, a solidarity that forced the government to listen.”

“Karachi needs that again,” Bawar says.

The writer is a journalist and researcher whose work appears in The New York Times, Dawn, and other publications, as well as for various policy institutes. He can reached at zeea.rehman@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, EOS, June 9th, 2024

Header image: On June 10, 1972, a labourers’ procession is taken out from Frontier Colony in Karachi. It passes through Narimabad and Golimar, and ends at Quaid-i-Azam’s mausoleum: after the events of June 7-8, 1972, factories across Karachi remained shut for 14 days as labourers continued their protests | Dawn Archives


The writer is a journalist and researcher, who writes for The New York Times and Nikkei Asia, among other publications. He also assesses democratic and conflict development in Pakistan for various policy institutes. He tweets @zalmayzia

DOCUMENTARY: A MOMENT IN TIME

Adam Behr 

THE CONVERSATION

The last time The Beatles ever played together, on the roof of the Apple Records building in London in January 1969 | Trinity Mirror/Alamy

In one sense, Let It Be — director Michael Lindsay-Hogg’s 1970 film documenting The Beatles’ recording sessions of January 1969, and their famous concert on the rooftop of the Apple building — could be viewed as something of a coda to the main event.

At the time, both the film and the accompanying album of the same name reached the public a month after the band’s break-up was announced. In the present day, its re-release follows Peter Jackson’s epic Get Back docu-series, which drew on the 60 hours of raw footage of the same sessions to provide a more complete account of the recordings.

So, why the fuss? Re-releases and re-masters are a standard feature of both the film and music industries, and The Beatles’ media and commercial juggernaut has arguably led the way in this for a long time. First, there’s the sheer length of time, since the film was last generally available more than 50 years ago.

The answer also partly lies in the distinctive way in which, beyond their huge financial success, the narrative of The Beatles as a band has been woven into popular music and wider history.

The re-release of the 1970 Beatles film Let It Be reveals how the history of popular music is written

Peter Jackson’s 2020 series, in many respects, superseded Hogg’s film, providing a fuller picture of the sessions, which also fed into the Abbey Road album, the band’s last recording (even though Let It Be was released afterwards).

Same events, different perspectives

A highlight of both the film and series was the concluding rooftop concert, but Jackson’s programme was widely acknowledged for adding context to the band’s closing chapter. The hours of jamming and studio high-jinks revealed moments of camaraderie and a less rancorous atmosphere than had previously been thought.

So, beyond the events themselves, there’s an element of historiography at play here — a concern with how history is written and constructed. Since Let It Be’s original release, The Beatles have become an increasingly important aspect of popular music, and wider social history. Beyond the mystique acquired by inaccessibility for so long, the film gains interest as a document of how the band’s last days as an active unit were framed, and experienced, at the time.

In purely functional terms, it’s obviously easier to give a more complete account of the recording sessions in the nearly eight hours afforded by Peter Jackson’s Get Back than the one-and-a-half hours available to Lindsay-Hogg on Let It Be.

Moments of discord appear in both, notably the famous encounter between a taciturn George Harrison — who walked out during the sessions — telling a cajoling Paul McCartney, about a guitar part: “I’ll play, you know, whatever you want me to play. Or I won’t play at all, if you don’t want me to play.”

These are diluted in the long stretch of Get Back, but become part of the central narrative of Let It Be. Filmmakers’ editorial decisions shape their stories, but are informed by their own contexts. Lindsay-Hogg was editing the film at a time when the band had just split, and trying to salvage a viable product from a somewhat chaotic process, since he’d originally been taken on to produce a television documentary and concert broadcast.

Re-tooling it as a film was a response to the band dropping the idea of a major event, the now legendary rooftop performance only emerging as a process of back-and-forth compromise.

Conversely, one of the iconic elements of Jackson’s Get Back series shows Paul McCartney coming up with the bare bones of the song of the same name more or less impromptu, and the pleasure in seeing how it develops.

But that relies on the more leisurely pacing of the long form allowed by primary release on a streaming platform, as opposed to the editorial constraints of a cinema (or even television) release.

The streaming format was, of course, a long way off in the future when Lindsay-Hogg was working with the band. Jackson’s series also works more profoundly because of the classic status Get Back (the song) has accrued over half a century.

For Lindsay-Hogg filming in 1969, it was just another jam — albeit by the world’s most famous band. In 2020, much of the audience was witnessing the genesis of a song they’d known their whole lives.

Framing popular music history

Get Back reviews the longitudinal process of a band at work, and one whose working processes had influenced many of the acts that followed in their wake. The Beatles’ success helped to shape the very idea of a band combining multiple songwriters and friends into a social, creative and business unit.

Their split was big news, and mattered in a way that the re-combinations of musicians into new working units had not done previously. Let It Be was tied into that historical moment, and the presence in the room of Lindsay-Hogg’s cameras helped to define it.

Viewed at the arrival of the 1970s, as the preeminent band of the 1960s announced their demise, Let It Be told the story of an ending, enhanced by the technical fact that it was blown up from a 16mm print, for TV, to 35mm for the cinema, adding a dark, grainy patina to the proceedings, now alleviated in the remastering process.

Now in 2024, it’s a document in a wider archive of Beatles lore and helps to inform the process of how the history of popular music is written.

The writer is a Senior Lecturer in Popular & Contemporary music at Newcastle University in the UK

Republished from The Conversation
Published in Dawn, ICON, June 2nd, 2024

PAKISTAN

Federal funding for universities

Stopping federal annual grants to provincially chartered universities is an ill-advised move.

Dr Muhammad Ali Shaikh 

UNIVERSITIES in Pakistan are again in the news — once again for the wrong reasons. The issue this time is that the federal government has decided to stop giving annual recurring grants to provincially chartered universities, ending a practice that had been in vogue since independence.

Accordingly, the federal government asked the Higher Education Commission (HEC) on May 24, 2024, to resubmit the budget proposal, reducing the demand to less than one-fifth of the original amount asked — from Rs126 billion to Rs25bn — catering for only the federally chartered universities.

The cited logic behind the federal government’s decision is that, as education has been devolved to the provinces under the 18th Amendment, it is now the responsibility of the provincial governments to foot the bill of universities established and chartered by them.

This decision sent shockwaves across the country, particularly among students and academia of some 160 affected universities. On their part, the Federation of All Pakistan Universities Academic Staff Associations sprang into action and held their executive council’s meeting in which they rejected the government’s decision and decided to launch a national protest movement and observe May 30 as a ‘black day’.

Stopping federal annual grants to provincially chartered universities is an ill-advised move.

It is an irony that 85 years ago on that day, on May 30, 1939, Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah wrote his final will, in which he bequeathed his entire personal wealth to educational institutions, showcasing his commitment to the cause of education. But with him were gone his ideals and aspirations.

Coming back to the present, let’s examine the issue and suggest a way out. First of all, the most striking aspect of the government’s decision is its abruptness. The practice of federal funding to all chartered universities, both federal and provincial, has been going on for a very long time. Even the 18th Amendment was passed 14 years ago.

If the federal government had been serious about the matter, it could have gradually eased itself out in a phased manner, after the passage of the 18th Amendment. Now, expecting universities, which are fully dependent on federal grants, to create alternative financial resources on such short notice — just a month before the start of the next financial year in July — is not understandable.

Another aspect is the federal government’s legal competence to take unilateral decisions in such matters. Constitutionally speaking, the forum for resolving issues that involve the interests of the federation and the provinces is the Council of Common Interests. Before taking any action, the federal government would be well advised to raise this issue in the CCI and have it resolved there.

It is also very important to involve the other stakeholders in the decision-making process. In the present case, these stakeholders are students, their parents, universities, representative faculty bodies and staff associations as well as the general public.

Here, it is pertinent to see what is happening across our borders, particularly in India and Bangladesh, because the three of us share the same roots in connection with our higher education systems.

In the case of India, its union (federal) government allocated an amount equal to $5.6bn for the higher education sector in fiscal year 2023-24, in addition to the state governments’ grants to their respective universities. Following this example, Pakistan, about one-fifth of India in terms of population, should have allocated at least $1bn in federal grants for its higher education sector.

Meanwhile, Bangladesh, which has a population of about 171 million, allocated over $1bn for its 53 public universities during the same year.

In contrast, Pakistan has frozen its federal outlay for higher education to Rs65bn since 2018. In dollar terms, this amount in June 2018 was equal to $537m (at the exchange rate of 121 rupees to a dollar), which has now shrunk in its dollar value to $232m (at the exchange rate of 280 rupees a dollar).

Despite repeated demands from academia and students, the government did not increase allocations for higher education during the last six years. This year, it is altogether ending it, except for an amount of $89m for federally chartered universities.

This move has already given rise to various conspiracy theories and interpretations. One such exposition states that the move is intended to benefit the already rich universities run and operated by the armed forces as almost all of them are federally chartered institutes, at the expense of poor public universities spread across the four provinces. This impression is not good for national coherence and harmony.

In these circumstances, the best course of action for the federal government would be to not only continue with federal grants to all universities until the matter is discussed and decided by the CCI, but to also consider enhancing the allocation to a level that matches at least the figures for Bangladesh — the rupee equivalent of $1bn.

On their part, the provinces should also shoulder their responsibilities towards higher education and contribute their bit, following the pattern in India. In the current context, Sindh is the only province that has provided grants amounting to Rs26bn to its universities, an action that needs to be followed by the rest of the provinces.

The universities should also find ways to boost their own resources, on the pattern of countries like China, Turkey, Malaysia, etc. One good way to do this is to rationalise their fee structures on the basis of the real incurred cost on various programmes, and then subsidise it for poor students only.

Last but not least, there is an urgent need to bring extreme prudence and transparency to university spending processes and enforce a mechanism of accountability to eradicate funds misuse and corruption. That is how we shall be able to develop our universities and help them play their due role in national development and prosperity.

The writer is a development professional and a former vice chancellor.
drshaikhma@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, June 3rd, 2024

Tyranny of learning

Nasira Habib 

Published June 4, 2024

SCHOOL education in Pakistan plays no constructive role in cultivating a civic sense in students. It fails to prepare responsible citizens. The social studies school curriculum claims a paradigm shift to an inquiry-based approach, focusing on ‘student constructed’ learning, instead of teacher-transmitted information. It also recognises that learning experiences must be relevant to students’ daily lives.

The prerequisites of such an approach are relevant cultural context, understanding of students’ prior knowledge, immersive teaching, active participation, and recognising the critical importance of their voices. However, these essential elements are missing in textbooks.

There has been no effort to locate the teaching of citizenship in students’ sociocultural realities in primary school textbooks. On the contrary, the text is context-neutral and abstract. The language is dull, monotonous and difficult. Not only linguistically but conceptually as well, it is age-inappropriate. The content is uninteresting and the vocabulary and concepts far more advanced than their comprehension level. A chapter on general knowledge uses six sentences to educate six-year-old Grade 2 children on rights and duties, including the right to religious freedom. Without explaining human rights, a table gives four types of rights and five kinds of responsibilities.

The rights include the freedom to choose an occupation, the right to shelter homes for destitute people, and the right to electricity, gas, clean drinking water, a safe environment, housing, education, protection, and healthcare. Furthermore, the textbooks want children to ‘define’ a government and its roles and responsibilities.


Are we producing responsible citizens?

The chapter on the role of the government and citizens for Grade 3 is no less pathetic. The curriculum expects seven-year-old children to link water shortages in some areas of Pakistan to the increase in population, a lower water table, absence of water storage facilities, poor water supply management and irrational water use. The textbook also asks them to give suggestions on how a government and citizens can collaborate to meet the needs of a community.

At the end of the lesson, they must know the qualities of good citizens, for example, being law-abiding, responsible, trustworthy, gender-just, tolerant, and respectful of others’ rights. The relevant chapters for Grade 4 take children farther away from their reality and achieve new heights of abstraction. The chapter on citizenship describes at least 33 complex concepts in 26 sentences. Almost every sentence presents a new idea.

Students are required to memorise the definitions of an ‘ordinary’, ‘digital’ and ‘global’ citizen. They have to endlessly repeat and commit to memory complex concepts like the caste system, international affairs, conflict resolution through dialogue, the UN Declaration of Human Rights, protection of language and culture, religious freedom, right of movement, speech and expression, payment of taxes, and changes in rights and responsibilities over time. In addition, 26 bullet points present an array of rights and duties for the three categories of citizens.

There is an absence of sensitivity in the textbooks pertaining to children’s lived experiences, the extent of their exposure, location, access to technology, etc. The textbooks also appear to overlook teachers’ ability to deal with such intellectually challenging concepts. The borrowed format of the presentation and layout of the text makes a mockery of the thought behind the format.

Such imposed and undemocratic education is a tyranny for learners. It leads them to using hollow words, having no de­­mocratic values and convictions, and la­­cking the courage to stand up for civic ideals. Poor governance, slackness in law enforcement, and rampant corruption reinforce their ignorance and disbelief in democratic values. People without a value system, logical thinking, and decision-making tools become conformists and follow the crowd.

We must teach democratic behaviour and form habits from the first day of school. Instead of talking about J.S. Mill and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, education must be structured around everyday happenings involving children, inviting them to express their views, listening to them, and giving them ownership in decision-making, such as developing classroom rules.

School life presents many situations in the classroom, in the lab, in the library, in the garden and on the playground, which themselves relate to issues of rights and duties, justice and fair play, gender equity and responsibility, and need resolution. Such immersion would help children think and act democratically. Textbooks must facilitate these processes. Otherwise, they are counterproductive.

The writer is an educationist, environmentalist and ecological gardener.
nasira@khoj.edu.pk

Published in Dawn, June 4th, 2024

PAKISTAN

Price of peace

Muhammad Amir Rana 

Published June 9, 2024 

DAWN

PAKISTAN is not alone in confronting armed opposition. Many nations grapple with persistent violence, often resorting to force over peace negotiations. This hesitation stems from the fear of concessions, neglecting the heavy price paid for prolonged conflict.

Colombia offers a compelling example. In 2016, it opted for peace, establishing a ceasefire with major rebel groups — primarily factions of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), which has been active since 1964. Despite initial setbacks, Colombia recently enacted a Total Peace Bill to forge agreements with remaining armed groups.

Colombia’s peace process has been arduous, with the government determined to achieve an end to the conflict, even if it necessitates meeting some of the armed groups’ demands. This dilemma resonates with states facing insurgencies, who fear internationalising their conflicts. While Colombia’s UN involvement, prompted by resistance demands, ultimately aided negotiations, core issues like land reform, victim justice, and political participation remain unresolved.

The success stories of other peace processes offer valuable lessons. Notably, many successful agreements involved compromises across the ta­­b­le. In some cases, these have caused major amendments in social contracts of the states, the autonomy of a region, the separation of a territory, or agreement on resource distribution. The Good Friday Agreement in 1998 in Northern Ireland helped end the violent conflict known as ‘The Troubles’, leading to power-sharing in the North­ern Ireland Assembly and disarmament of paramilitary groups.

Colombians took 50 years to assess the strength of the resistance movement.

The Comprehensive Peace Agreement of 2005 ended the Second Sudanese Civil War, granted southern Sudan autonomy, and led to a referendum in 2011, after which South Sudan gained independence.

The Peace Accords (1996) in Guatemala ended 36 years of civil war, leading to the demobilisation and integration of guerrilla fighters into society, and significant political reforms. The Mindanao Peace Process (2014) in the Philippines and the signing of the Comprehensive Agreement on the Bangsamoro established the Bangsamoro Autono­mous Region, granting greater autonomy and addressing the grievances of the Moro people.

Finally, the Final Agreement (2016) between the Colombian government and the FARC was signed. The agreement ended over 50 years of armed conflict. These peace processes typically involved lengthy negotiations, international mediation, and the establishment of frameworks for disarmament, political integration, and socioeconomic development to address the root causes of the conflicts.

A multifaceted armed resistance stretched out for 50 years in Colombia because it had roots in socioeconomic factors, took time to pick momentum, and once it picked momentum, it became more lethal compared with movements triggered by religion and ideologies. A mix of socioecono­mic, political, and ideological factors can nurture a separatist solid resistance against the states. The FARC emerged as a response to deep-rooted social and economic inequalities in rural Colombia. Vast land ownership disparities and peasant communities’ marginalisation provided fertile ground for the group’s initial support and recruitment.

Colombians took 50 years just to assess the strength of the resistance movement, which resu­l­ted in thousands of deaths, political instability, a poor economy, and a constant state of fear. Un­­governed and poorly governed spaces have always provided fertile ground for resistance movements, and Colombia was no different in this respect.

A similar situation was witnessed in the Fed­e­rally Administrative Tribal Areas — now the New­ly Merged Tribal Districts — where the state is still facing armed and unarmed resistance aga­inst its approach to governing these areas. The banned TTP wants to revoke the status of these areas to regain the strength it enjoyed before the military operations and under tribal arrangements.

Balochistan is facing the worst governance crisis; a hybrid governance system has failed to stop the power elites’ misuse of the province’s resources. It cannot deliver services to the people and needs help to conceive a development plan. The securitisation of the province fuels anger among the people, including those who have experienced urban life in other parts of the country.

A comparison between the Baloch and FARC armed resistance can be drawn as both movements are deeply rooted in socioeconomic disparities. An­­oth­er common feature that creates a conducive environment for the armed resistance movement lies in the structure of the parallel economies in the areas, which include illicit trade, smuggling, drug trafficking, etc. Both state and non-state actors become the beneficiaries of this parallel ec­­o­­nomy. The resolution of the problem can hurt their economic benefits, and they resist any attempt at this.

In Colombia, the FARC survived so long because of parallel economic structures, which significantly funded its operations through the cultivation, production, and trafficking of cocaine. Kidnapping for ransom and extortion of local businesses and individuals were also significant sources of income for the FARC, further sustaining the resistance.

Two factors that the state emphasises are regional dynamics and external support for the armed resistance. These are essential factors, but to deal with armed resistance, it must concentrate on other aspects too. For instance, the state underestimates the armed group’s ability to adapt its tactics and strategy to changing circumstances, as well as the local support network it has built up over time.

There is nothing new about the dynamics of armed resistance — a vast amount of literature is available on the subject. However, the peace process is challenging. First, realising that the chain of violence cannot be broken without a dialogue takes time, as the state evaluates strength in terms of resources, and not in terms of the local support that is available to resistance movements. The ceasefire between the Colombian government and FARC dissidents has been mixed, with both positive outcomes and significant challenges. However, spoilers continue to provoke both the state and non-state actors, which causes violations of agreements and inconsistencies in the implementation of peace agreements, often extending the peace process.

While a good takeaway from the Colombian peace process is that it has not caused the country’s disintegration, it is also true that had the peace process been started 40 years ago, the results would not have been very different. The state took 50 years just to prove it is strong, but real strength comes through dialogue.

The writer is a security analyst.

Published in Dawn, June 9th, 2024

Chinese advice

Muhammad Amir Rana 

PAKISTAN’S law-enforcement agencies have completed the investigation of the Dasu terrorist attack carried out against Chinese nationals in March, in record time.

This is, indeed, a remarkable achievement, but it does not seem to have impressed the Chinese authorities very much, as there have been reports that Beijing wants a large-scale anti-terrorism operation, like Zarb-i-Azb, against the militants.

On March 26, a convoy of Chinese nationals travelling from Islamabad to the Dasu Hydropower Project site in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa’s Kohistan district was attacked by Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) terrorists. The government announced compensation of $2.5 million for the families of the five Chinese nationals who lost their lives in the attack. A joint investigation team comprising police and intelligence agencies’ personnel was immediately formed to address Chinese concerns regarding the capability of Pakistani law enforcers to probe a high-profile terrorist attack.

The reports of China’s demand for a massive counterterrorism operation are reflective of Beijing’s concerns over the escalating threats to Chinese nationals working on CPEC-related and other projects in this country. Pakistan has a history of launching such counterterrorism operations at the request of China. The Lal Masjid operation in Islamabad in 2007 was launched after Chinese President Hu Jintao called Gen Musharraf. Prior to the operation, women students of the Jamia Hafsa madressah had kidnapped Chinese health workers who they believed were commercial sex workers.

One can take precautionary steps against terrorist groups, but what about intolerance?

International pressure, including from the Chinese, also worked in 2014 when the Pakistan military launched Operation Zarb-i-Azb in North Waziristan. China fully supported the Financial Action Task Force’s recommendation that Pakistan comply with its counterterrorism financing and anti-money laundering commitments. The maximum favour the Chinese officials extended to Pakistan in this case was to support the country’s need for more time to fulfil the financial watchdog’s requirements.

However, China’s latest demand regarding a large-scale operation does not seem feasible, as the TTP and its affiliates are hiding in Afghanistan, and cross-border operations would trigger a major conflict in the region. Moreover, there is also the Baloch insurgency, which is a complex issue that needs to be handled delicately. There is already an ongoing encounter between the insurgents and security forces in Balochistan. Any misadventure is likely to incur heavy political and security costs.

Pakistan’s economy is in the throes of a deep crisis, and a massive military operation would entail its own costs. At the same time, it seems that the Pakistani leadership is underestimating the demands of its friends for a fully secure environment for their investment. This is not only about China, a major investor in Pakistan, but also other friends of the country, such as Saudi Arabia, which have concerns similar to Beijing’s when it comes to putting their money here. These states are taking security concerns very seriously.

Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman recently approved a cooperation agreement between the Presidency of State Security in the kingdom and the military intelligence in Pakistan to combat terrorism and its financing. The Pakistani leadership appears overly confident in its assessment that the security challenges at home can be mitigated as before; it wants the states that are looking at investment prospects in the country to trust its capabilities. However, terrorist incidents such as the Dasu attack will only shake the confidence of foreign investors.

No doubt, the Taliban’s Afghanistan has emerged as a major security challenge for the country, but terrorism and extremism have a long history of state institutions using them as tools for political and strategic purposes. One can be aware of the dynamics of terrorist groups and take precautions, but what about intolerance, which can erupt suddenly and result in the lynching of innocent people?

The state has fanned the flames of intolerance in society, and this has eroded the social fabric and made conditions insecure for the minorities and for those who think differently from the state. Intolerance has become a huge hurdle in the way of economic progress, including foreign investment. How will the Chinese forget the incident last year when one of their nationals barely escaped lynching by a mob at the Dasu Hydropower Project site? The Chinese official was simply asking employees to complete their work before going for prayers.

Security firms dealing in risk assessment most often cite the killing of Priyantha Kumara Diyawadana, a Sri Lankan national lynched by a mob on Dec 3, 2021, in Sialkot, to show who controls the environment for investment.

If you were to ask a Pakistani official or leader, they would claim that Pakistanis are moderate in their views and the most tolerant society among Muslim nations. Such a claim was recently made in Beijing. Lynching incidents are dismissed as the actions of a few misguided and emotional youths.

However, defending the indefensible causes more damage and shakes even friendly countries’ confidence in one’s ability to maintain security. The truth is that Pakistan’s social indicators are amongst the poorest anywhere. A major reason for this is substandard education and an extensive network of religious institutions that nurture extremism and intolerance in the country. The establishment has not stopped considering the political utility of religious institutions either.

Extremism and intolerance are thriving with state support, as the power elites are not willing to review their connection with the clergy. Making policies to counter extremism and terrorism satisfies their conscience, and they believe that by simply placing policy drafts in the cupboards of the relevant ministries, they will automatically solve the issue. The maximum effort by the state to solve the problem has been to create institutions to counter extremism. Eventually, these institutions are used to appease the clergy.

China goes by its own model to forcefully ‘harmonise’ its ethnic and religious communities. However, for Pakistan, the first and foremost priority must be to abandon its approach of pacifying the sentiments of the hardliners, and instead, stand with the weak and the victims, regardless of their religion or community.

The writer is a security analyst.

Published in Dawn, June 2nd, 2024