Trust Us, Even If We Do Not Trust Ourselves

So, most of our readers have probably already heard about the advertisement that the Government of Pakistan took out in the Wall Street Journal (WSJ) on the 10th anniversary of 9/11. According to Dawn, the ad was first offered to the New York Times, which "refused to publish it, forcing Pakistani officials to go to a business newspaper with a specialised but influential readership."

Here is the ad (via the LongWarJournal):

Pakistan's 9/11 ad in the WSJ

Irrespective of the merits of the advertisement - and there are many who have questioned its design and message - one of the intriguing questions that arise is why the New York Times refused to publish it. A half-page ad is, after all, darn good revenue especially in these recessionary times.

According to the WSJ's own blog, which shrugged off the ad's chances of changing the anti-Pakistan narrative in the American media:

"The [New York] Times asked for “more clarity in the ad about who was placing it,” according to a spokeswoman for the newspaper. The Times did not hear back from the government and so has not yet run the ad, she said."

Well, our sources inform us that the problem about the source of the ad arose because neither the Pakistan Embassy in Washington nor the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MoFA) nor the Ministry of Information & Broadcasting (MoI&B) were the sources of the ad. In fact, our sources confirm that none of these three Pakistani government entities was even consulted about the ad. In fact, the ad, designed by the Pakistani advertising agency Midas, was placed directly from the Prime Minister's Secretariat.

Why, you might ask, would the Prime Minister's Secretariat bypass its own subordinate media departments and its representatives who are specifically tasked with international relations work? Could it be, as our sources indicate, that the advertisement was the first instance of the country's premier intelligence agency directly placing an advertisement in a foreign publication?

The question that the WSJ probably needs to answer is how, if the three obvious points of contact (Embassy, MoFA, MoI&B) for advertisements from the Government of Pakistan did not sign off on the ad, was it able to confirm that the ad was, in fact, placed by the Government of Pakistan. According to the WSJ blog, which also raises this question:

"The ad as printed in the Journal carries a line at the bottom in small font saying “Government of Pakistan” next to a web address for the government. A spokeswoman for the Journal declined to comment."

Is there something essentially wrong about the ad? Aside from quibbles about the precision of some of the figures, some of the cringe-worthy wording ("Promising Peace To The World"?) and the obsequious offering up of Pakistan to the Americans, no. Is it wrong to try and sway public opinion in the US to a better understanding of the suffering Pakistanis have gone through in the fight against Al Qaeda-type terrorism? Once again, no. Those convinced that Pakistan is playing an evil double game will obviously poke fun at some of the assertions of the ad but there is no doubt that the often unnuanced and simplistic American narrative, that ignores how Pakistanis view the maelstorm they are caught in and their own interests, is in dire need of a corrective.

But what does it say about the Pakistani State if its organs feel they need to bypass each other to get a point across that, ostensibly, all of them should be agreed upon? What does it say about how policies are made and implemented?

Then again, we might also point out that the US$150,000 apparently spent on running the ad in the WSJ could have been better utiltized for things with a currently slightly higher priority than a PR exercise.

The Jazba of Corruption?

So yeah, I think we're all pretty psyched now for the Mother Of All Battles to take place in Mohali next Wednesday (March 30). An India - Pakistan World Cup semi-final is really the true final as far as both cricketing rivals are concerned (for one it will be a final, of course, even technically speaking). There can be nothing bigger at this World Cup. Nothing. And even as India completed its thrashing of Australia in the quarter-final today, the excitement at what is to come was already easily palpable. People on Twitter and Facebook were already sharing inspirational songs, hopes and cricketing assessments, expressing fears and neuroses, trash-talking to their digital brethren across the border and hoping to reverse-jinx the other side by talking up its strengths. And there's still five days of an agonizing wait ahead.

But more on that, perhaps, later. What I wanted to share with all of you today was this television advertisement which began airing (I think) on March 23rd. A long time ago, I did a post on the semantics of another mobile phone ad (also coincindentally of the same company) and I thought it's probably a good time to deconstruct another. You almost surely have seen the ad, since it runs repeatedly between the cricket (if you are watching in Pakistan), but have you really seen it? If you haven't, I suggest you take a look, particularly from 0:20 onwards (thanks to @shahidsaeed and @KhizM for helping locate the clip):





I hope you're already thinking what I'm about to say. Which of course is: Really Mobilink??? Did you really think the best way to promote your new product was to reference spot-fixing??? I mean, look at the evidence:

1. Mazhar Majeed character sitting outside tells batsman what shot to play next (0:20-0:25)

2. Side-kick character (the go-between?) reminds batsman not to get run-out without settling monetary compensation first (0:26-0:28). "Don't get run out, for free," he says.

3. Bowler gets his instructions to bowl bouncer also from outside the ground and shares the information with the batsman (0:28-0:30)

4. Batsman acknowledges the receipt of the information (0:31-0:34)

5. Bowler gives knowing smile and signals to batsman to seal deal (0:35-0:36)

6. The entire spot-fixing network is summarized involving the players, the bookie and the go-between (0:39-0:45)

7. The non-involved players represent the wide-eyed, clueless fans who cannot believe anything like this could happen (0:45-0:47). "Such?" [Really?] they exclaim.

8. The agreed deal is executed, with a lollipop bouncer being dispatched for a six (0:47-0:48)

9. Mazhar Majeed character displays his quiet triumph in managing another fix (0:49-0:50). Notice that he is not wildly excited like the other fans rushing on to the ground, his real 'interests' lie somewhere else.


After our recent shame with Messrs Butt, Amir and Asif, did Mobilink really want something like this to seem cool? And during the effing World Cup of all times??? When, for once, we've managed to forget all this and rise above it as a team??

And in the off-off-chance that nobody in Mobilink or the advertising agency actually thought about all this in quite these terms (which I am sure would be the line of convenient defence though everyone and their nanny knows that mobile phones have been banned by the International Cricket Council (ICC) even in team's dressing rooms for precisely these reasons), wouldn't you say that there's a sorry bunch of incompetents right there?

"Such."

What Were They Thinking?

We at Cafe Pyala have sometimes been accused (unfairly) of cynicism. But none of our pointed barbs can ever hope to plumb the depths of shameless opportunism that the following two commercials currently running on our television screens demonstrate.

Here's Habib Oil Mills and part of the late Madam Noor Jehan's family - specifically eldest daughter Zille Huma and granddaughter Sonya Jehan nee Rizvi - exploiting the memory of their legendary mother / grandmother to sell... ghee.





Okay, we know that singer Zille Huma and actor Sonya Jehan owe their entire careers to the memory of the illustrious Queen of Melody - Sonya even changed her film industry name to remind people more squarely of her roots - and that another of Madam's daughters, Hina Ejaz Durrani, had also recreated one of her mother's songs for a video sponsored by Mobilink. But boiling down (or should that be frying up?) intimate personal memories to the brand of banaspati the matriarch used looks just a tad like cashing in to me. Especially, especially if this story is not even true. Keep in mind that Dalda Banaspati has been a market leader in the ghee business for ages and the Habib Oil Mills' current position as a major force in the edible oil market has come about only in the last 15 years or so. I'm ready to stand corrected but I'm not even so sure Noor Jehan was such a loyal customer of Habib Banaspati.

The second shamelessly exploitative ad for ghee - what is the deal with hydrogenated oil and shamelessness - features the ever slimy Aamir Liaquat Hussain in a Mezan Banaspati ad that preys on the religious sentiments of the upcoming month of Ramzan.




Does Mezan really need the smug face of a rabid, phoney "doctor" to sell its oil? And isn't this what Aamir Liaquat's been aiming for all his life: making money off religion? He probably made loads from attaching his name to Haj packages but that probably didn't satisfy his desire to have his mug on television. The ad's enough to give anyone indigestion in my opinion.

Actually, I prefer seeing the ending of the alternate version of this ad - which you can see here - in which Mr JaahilOnline tells you about the savings you get (no noble hook about feeding the hungry) and mouths the famous Mezan slogan: "Har cheez Mezan mein achhi lagti hai" (Everything is better in Mezan). It gives me the pleasure of imagining him in a vat of bubbling hot oil.

Blooper Wars - Updated

Remember this?

Well, we've apparently got our own back at them now. According to Dawn today:

"An advertisement released by Punjab police seeking people’s cooperation in combating terrorism carried the insignia of Indian Punjab police to the embarrassment of many. The advertisement which appeared in several national dailies showed three lions standing back to back on top of the small insignia, clearly indicating its Indian origin. The base of the insignias of police in Pakistan and Indian Punjab is the same. The difference is that the top of the Indian Punjab police insignia has three lions while that of the Pakistani Punjab police features a star. The Indian insignia is an adaptation of the Ashoka’s emblem while the Pakistani insignia reflects the national flag."

Here's an image of the front page of The Nation from yesterday with the Punjab Police ad at the bottom right.

Here's is the logo of the Punjab Police of Pakistan...

And here's the logo of the Punjab Police of India...

Given the reputation enjoyed by the Pakistani Punjab police, especially in light of the chhitrol incidents and the violent escapades of the last few days in Bara Kahu and Faizabad, I would say it should actually be the Indian Punjab police that feels embarrassed. Oh well, let's just call it even stevens and move on.


: : : Update : : :

...No such luck. The Indian government has hit back today with an Indian Railways ad that puts Railways minister Mamta Bannerjee's hometown Kolkata in the middle of the Bay of Bengal and the capital Delhi in... Pakistan. Oooh, now that's getting provocative, no matter what Zaid Hamid thinks. Here is how CNN-IBN reported it. Can't wait for the Pakistani response to this one. (Thanks to WHS who pointed it out).

Gone With the Wind?

On the occasion of international women's day, thought I'd share with all of you some vintage Western (I believe they are all American) ads I came across. You know, just to remind ourselves where the current non-dialectical lecturers on women's rights are coming from.

And these are a few more current ads:

Hmmmm. Perhaps things have not changed all that much there either.

Required: A Healthy Sense of Humour

So how fragile are the egos of the people in government? According to sources, the following Ufone ad (admittedly not one of their funniest) was pulled off air (after a short run) because of grumblings from Those Who Matter over its portrayal of politicos. Since Ufone is a subsidiary of the formerly state-owned Pakistan Telecommunication Company Limited (PTCL), the resentment over the ad was conveyed in fairly direct manner to the Ufone management.



Ufone has such a quick turnover of its ads on the electroinic media that most people never realized that this particular ad going off air was anything other than routine. But it's probably why you won't find the ad on Ufone's corporate website.

Incidentally, this is not the first instance of Pakistani governments taking personally things that were probably not ever meant to be critical of them. In the mid-1990s, the video of one of pop singer Najam Shiraz's songs was banned on Pakistan Television because, according to reports published then, the government considered it "against the economic policies of the government." In actual fact, the song had merely referred to the exploitation of workers by "the hungry lions of capital."

What's that they say about dil mein chor?

Bizarre Inclusion of the Day

Here's an ad against female foeticide printed in the Times of India today (at least in the Delhi edition of the paper) by the Ministry of Women and Child Development of the Government of India.

You can see the actual page on their e-paper here. The ad is on page 23.

For some unknown and hilarious reason, the picture of the military man featured in it (along with other Indian national icons of sport and music) is that of a Pakistani Air Force officer. I have been told it is former PAF chief, Air Chief Marshall Tanveer Mohammad Ahmed, though I have been unable to confirm it. But there is no denying that it is definitely that of a high-ranking Pakistan Air Force officer. I mean, you can even read the 'PAF' on his wings, for crying out loud.

Chalk it up to the efficiency of state bureaucracy? Or do you think there's some underlying message here about Bharat Mata?


Update:
So, yes, it is Air Chief Marshall (retd) Tanvir Mahmood Ahmed (apologies for getting the name wrong) and  unbeknowst to me, it had already caused quite a media ruckus in India. Almost all papers in Pakistan have covered the story on their front or back pages today. Here's Dawn (which also had an earlier story on its website here), The News and The Nation.

Incompetent Authority Ad of the Day

Have a look at this quarter page PAID paean in today's Dawn, from Sindh Minister for Local Government Agha Siraj Durrani to his boss, buddy and former jail-mate, President Asif Ali Zardari...

In case you can't read it, or have missed it, this is what the copy says:

"The leadership of Mr. Asif Ali Zardari has given a consistant (sic) solidarity (sic) and peaceful political system (sic) to the nation. He fought hard to defeat the dictatoriship (sic) and striyed (sic) to implement the demoratic (sic) systemi (sic) in the country. During the short period of 1 year (sic), he did his best efforts (sic) to eradicate mis-management, terrorism and economical (sic) crises across the country."

"Saluate (sic) to (sic) our Hero, to his dynamism and consistant (sic) nature."

Saluate to him indeed! I'm no longer upset that public money, OUR tax money, is once again being used for shameless, unnecessary chamchagiri. I'm just over the moon that, thank God, Mr Durrani did not mention his hero's achievements in education or in appointing competent ministers or proof-readers!

A Lesson in Advertising Semantics

Have you guys seen this?




Most of you probably have, given how much it's on every television channel. But listen to the ad copy again, specifically, the dialogue. The woman says: "Mujh se shaadi ke baad tumhari awaaz tau aur bhi ziada khoobsurat ho gayi hai" (After marriage to me, your voice has become even more beautiful).

Now, the "Mujh se" seems superfluous here. She could as well have begun the sentence "Shaadi ke baad tumhari awaaz...." (After marriage, your voice...) and I'm quite sure that is how the lines were originally written. But she doesn't. And I'm pretty sure I know why. I know how these corporate types think, especially the corporate types who THINK they are creative managers of the media. (God knows I have dealt with enough of these wankers.)

Some bright spark must have suddenly felt that the line, as originally written, could have brought down the moral brigade on the company, for promoting adultery, so to speak. After all, here is this woman flirting away with a man who is obviously not present with her at night. So the shaadi could be interpreted as her lover's betrothal to someone else.

Their bright spark of an idea? You guessed it: add "Mujh se" in the beginning to make clear that the wedding is to this same woman we are seeing in the ad.

But here's my question: what is to prevent this ad to be taken as about a situation where the already married guy has secretly taken this woman as his second wife, and is now forced to sneak away from his "official" wife to flirt with this woman on the phone since he obviously cannot spend the night with her? Think about the indications...

1) She pointedly refers to "Mujh se shaadi", implying that his earlier wedding did not have that kind of effect on his voice.

2)They are newly married (since she refers to the wedding and they are still flirting) but are not together at night.

3)They speak in hushed tones.

I know what you're probably thinking: 'Well, he could simply be away for work after being newly married!' In which case, why would she need to preface her words with 'Mujh se'? I mean, if you're speaking to your spouse, you wouldn't normally say 'After marriage TO ME', now, would you?

Moral of the Tale: Corporate types only THINK they are being smart.