The Great Arab Revolt - Part I

Apologies for the disappearing act from all of us. One thing or another has kept us occupied and unable to sit down to post. There's a bunch of stuff we have wanted to post on which hopefully we'll get round to. I myself have been particularly mulling over the Great Arab Revolt taking place over the last few weeks, about why what we are seeing is not a 'Revolution' (at least not yet), about what a comparative study of upheavals in modern history indicates about the implications for Pakistan, and why I think most analysts have mistaken at least one important aspect of the causes of this social change.

But for now I just wanted to draw your attention to an article in the International Herald Tribune today which makes for fascinating reading for Pakistanis as well. As we all know by now, the youthful protestors in Egypt who toppled President Hosni Mubarak had one stance that many of us in Pakistan found hard to relate to: their apparent respect and adulation for the military in Egypt. To be sure, the Egyptian army's "neutral" stance helped ensure that the Egyptian protesters were not mercilessly slaughtered in the streets and probably played a large part in forcing Mubarak to reconsider his adamant stance that he would cling on to power. But still, protesters needing to keep the military on their side as a tactical manoeuvre and reiterating continued praise for the army as 'the most respected institution in Egypt' are two very different things.

Many were lulled into believing fundamental differences between the perceptions and structure of the military in the two countries. But consider the following paras from the report titled 'Egyptians Say Military Discourages an Open Economy':

"The Egyptian military defends the country, but it also runs day care centers and beach resorts. Its divisions make television sets, jeeps, washing machines, wooden furniture and olive oil, as well as bottled water under a brand reportedly named after a general’s daughter, Safi.

From this vast web of businesses, the military pays no taxes, employs conscripted labor, buys public land on favorable terms and discloses nothing to Parliament or the public.

Since the ouster last week of President Hosni Mubarak, of course, the military also runs the government. And some scholars, economists and business groups say it has already begun taking steps to protect the privileges of its gated economy, discouraging changes that some argue are crucial if Egypt is to emerge as a more stable, prosperous country.

“Protecting its businesses from scrutiny and accountability is a red line the military will draw,” said Robert Springborg, an expert on Egypt’s military at the Naval Postgraduate School. “And that means there can be no meaningful civilian oversight.”"

Sounds familiar doesn't it? (In case it doesn't, try re-reading Ayesha Siddiqa's book Military Inc.) Then consider the following, also from the same report:

"Moreover, the military’s power to guide policy is, at the moment, unchecked. The military has invited no civilian input into the transitional government, and it has enjoyed such a surge in prestige since it helped usher out Mr. Mubarak that almost no one in the opposition is criticizing it.

“We trust them,” said Walid Rachid, a member of the April 6 Youth Movement that helped set off the revolt. “Because of the army our revolution has become safe.”"

So my questions are: are the youth activists of Egypt unaware of this structural issue of Egypt's political economy? Or if they are aware, have they chosen to ignore it? And if they ignore it deliberately, what does that say about the class structure and political aims of the youth movement? Alternatively, if it is indeed merely a tactical ploy to ignore it, how much longer can they afford to do so? Perhaps, rather than Pakistanis looking to Egypt for understanding on how to build a movement, Egyptians could also do worse than looking at Pakistan's history to understand why movements for real social change have failed.

Point Blank

Of course, everyone who has seen today's International Herald Tribune (IHT) which comes as part of the Express Tribune is wondering about the big gaping blank space on the international paper's printed op-ed pages.

Partial scan of IHT op-ed pages: empty space can be seen to the right of editorials  

You need only to see the front page of the IHT to see what that big gaping hole is all about. On the front page is the following teaser to what should have been inside:

One myth, many Pakistans

"A lethal attack on two mosques that killed more than 80 members of the Ahmadi religious sect was the result of years of ignoring religious diversity, writes Ali Sethi. PAGE 6"

Ali Sethi is of course the first-time novelist of The Wish Maker and journalists Jugnu Mohsin and Najam Sethi's son. You can read the full article, as it was published elsewhere in the IHT editions, here.

Having read the piece, however, I am at a loss to understand why it was considered necessary to pull this piece out, and that too so apparently last minute that nothing could be substituted for it. Sethi is not the most gifted of writers but, really, there is little in the article that is so shocking or so provocative that it should make the ET administration quake in their boots about possible repercussions. Even more bizarrely, ET editorials themselves have taken stronger lines against religious quackery and discrimination, one evidence of which can be seen here.

The blank space also recalls that particular era of Pakistani journalism, just after General Ziaul Haq imposed martial law in 1977, when military censorship was forcing newspapers to drop reports and articles that went against the regime. Newspapers responded by printing blank spaces in their stead, and sometimes entire front pages were printed blank, until the military authorities cottoned on to the fact that journalists were effectively conveying the brutal censorship to the public at large. Thereafter the military authorities forced newspapers to substitute other articles and reports for the censored material and forbade blank spaces. But of course the difference here is that there was no one ostensibly forcing the management of ET to censor its own partner publication.

What might be even more interesting to see is how the IHT editors and management respond to this censorship. Censorship of the IHT is no small matter - especially given how prized Americans hold the concept of free speech - and this may indeed have consequences for ET's relationship with IHT.

Watch this (non-blank) space for developments.

ET Phone Home

There are a number of question marks hanging over Sultan Lakhani's latest venture into the media, his plans to launch a new English newspaper called the Express Tribune (ET), affiliated with the International Herald Tribune (IHT), and tentatively scheduled to hit the stands in February or March 2010.

Nobody doubts the depth of Mr. Lakhani's purse, which managed to attract many longtime Jang columnists to the Urdu Express and which, at least initially, gave his Express television channel a distinct edge in live coverage of breaking news. But it remains to be seen whether a) the ET can make any dent in the Karachi market which is dominated by the newspaper-of-habit Dawn or against The News which, because of its chatpata-stories-that-usually-have-some-basis-unlike-The Nation-under Mazari, has become a must-read paper for political animals and b) there is even a market for another English paper (see what happened to The Daily Times!). ET will apparently include a 20-page IHT every day but whether many people will be willing to switch their regular paper just for the sake of the IHT (without something special in the local paper) is questionable. The apparent reliance on wire services and the Express group's television channels and Urdu paper to feed stories to the English paper does not promise a remarkably unique publication.

More immediate problems also loom for the new venture. One of the biggest question marks is over the staffing policy. True to his corporate roots, Mr. Lakhani is relying heavily on recently graduated MBAs rather than journalists. While the stated rationale for this is to get in fresh blood that can read and write English well, the danger is that, like many MBA-types, the young blood may be using the paper mainly as a stepping stone towards other corporate careers rather than building a career as credible journalists. There are already murmurings by some of the under-training staff that their work assignments may not "look good on their CVs"!

But adding to the sense of unease within the organization is the style of 'governance' that seems far removed from that of a newspaper and more akin to a corporate firm. Among the "rules" that have been enforced are a strict policy of an eight-hour-day with pay cuts for those not in the office premises for at least seven hours (you might wonder what about field reporters? but apparently none have been hired!), and a strict dress code which stipulates that men's shirts must be tucked in and no shalwar kameezes except on Friday. A proposed ban on jeans was only narrowly averted. It leads one to wonder exactly what the management's priorities are. Wouldn't instilling concepts of good, solid journalism into the MBA recruits be more worthwhile than focusing on their fashion? Perhaps Mr. Lakhani should take a look round other local newspaper offices or even watch a few recent Hollywood films about journalists. Corporate looks are not exactly high on journalists' agendas in any part of the world and there's a reason journalism attracts social misfits. Or read Jawed Naqvi writing about the image of journalists in today's Dawn.

If all this was not enough to cause misgivings among the employees, the language being used by the management with respect to them certainly is. This is part of what Editor Kamal Siddiqi wrote in an internal memo to his sub-editors after he discovered some of them were coming late to training or skipping it altogether:

"Let me just say you have embarrassed me. Despite my request last week, it seems most of you still think this training is some sort of a joke. Yesterday John showed me how some of you were missing from his group without any intimation. This sort of attitude is shameful. Training starts at 9AM not 9.30AM.  If you cant make it, let me know and I will request the management to shift you to some other department, like selling detergents."

A valid issue for the editor, churlishly handled. Especially considering that Mr. Lakhani has often been accused by his critics of knowing how to sell detergents but not administer a media organization. Small wonder that some of the editorial staff are already desperate to make an exit.