make its citizens safer. That it did so, speaks to the enduring stupidity that the post 9/11, George W Bush era injected into foreign policy and national-security thinking in the US.
The key question that Pakistanis need to ask however is whether a national debate that has lasted not for weeks, or months, but now YEARS, about what the government should do to bring back Aafia, makes any sense. If you are an adult, with any kind of an education, a functioning mind and some measure of the fear of God in you, can there possibly be any answer but the obvious no? Of all the things Pakistan needs to be doing right now, of all the things we should be talking about to hold this government to account for its actions, should we really spend this much time and effort discussing the rights of, a possibly innocent and possibly not, individual person?
The only possible explanation for getting this worked up about Aafia Siddiqui is if we've consumed our lessons about Bin Qasim with such effervescent zeal, that we can't possibly fathom not all trying to be mini-Bin Qasims ourselves. For once, it seems our skewed reading of South Asian history does have serious consequences.
Why do we allow our national discourse to be dominated by an individual's 86-year jail sentence when we've hosted another kind of 63-year sentence for a population that now possibly exceeds 180 million?
Increasingly, it is clear that we are not necessarily obsessed with Aafia Siddiqui, or cricket scandals, or public lynchings -- but rather that we are obsessed with sustaining irrationality and emotion in our national discourse. The national appetite for gossip and rumour is not a reflection of the actual dynamics between the country's key institutions. Rather, it illustrates how badly choked an organic cultural genesis in this country has been, and continues to be today. Politics, public policy and governance are serious things. They determine how safely you can sleep at night, how comfortably your children can play on the street, how important the health of your pregnant wife, your newborn child, or your middle-aged husband are. Politics is why the tap water is either drinkable, or might kill you. It is the difference between a madressa where you can send your child, or one on the news after the latest bombing. Politics is the difference between a cricket team that regularly wins and loses, and one that is constantly the butt of jokes, and the topic of controversy.
Instead of treating politics, and the public policy that our politics produces, with any degree of seriousness, our largely irrational and emotional national mode of conversation has produced a narrative in which politics is our sports, our entertainment and our leisure all wrapped in one. Politics is Pakistan's Major League Baseball, Pakistan's Bollywood, and Pakistan's stamp-collecting, chess-playing, and new language-learning.
Our interaction with politics, with public policy and with governance thus has been reduced to taking in the latest dramatic performance on the nightly talk shows. If Aafia is not getting sentenced, then some clown is getting caught with a fake degree. We're titillated by inanity and buffoonery, and we love it. Worse, we think watching these shows is somehow a proxy for political engagement. Will Firdous Ashiq Awan unleash a tirade this evening? Did Wasi Zafar slap anybody today? Is the chief justice going to find the petty thief that stole an old lady's purse today? Will the suo moto on that be at the Supreme Court, or will our investigative sleuths do the leg-work on this one? On and on it goes.
The average Pakistani today, is wearing a big neon sign that says: Titillate me, please. You can't read the footnote, but I can bet it says, "Because I am gullible and easily entertained."
Our national obsession with being titillated by the shenanigans of our politicians does not come for free. While we bask in the inglorious gamma rays of corrupt politicians, generals, judges and bureaucrats, whatever governance exists, though it was never equitable or egalitarian, is coming apart at the seams. This country's institutions are begging for dramatic reform -- while we watch grown men shout inanities at each other.
National life in Pakistan is governed by four inter-woven institutions. Together they are more important to Pakistanis and to Pakistan -- individually and collectively -- than any of the drama on the nightly talk shows. Pakistanis need to start paying attention to these four institutions: the civil service, local governments, public financial management, and the federal government. They will make all the difference between a bright future for this country, or no future at all. Fixing them will ensure that all daughters of Pakistan are treated like we would treat our own, instead of the faux love this country heaps upon just one.
If you don't understand the links between effectively protecting Aafia Siddiqui's rights as a Pakistani citizen, and the omnibus of reforms required to fix the civil service, produce effective local governments, ensure good public financial management and, a lean federal government -- then you're watching too much TV. Turn it off.
The writer advises governments, donors and NGOs on public policy.