Dawn Editorials (with Summary and Vocabulary)
DAWN EDITORIALS
February
2, 2024 (Friday)
Day’s Vocabulary
- Rudimentary. involving or limited to basic
principles
- Caricature. make or give a comically or grotesquely
exaggerated representation of (someone or something)
- Moorings. a place where a boat or ship is moored
- Praxis. practice, as distinguished from
theory
- Bastion. an institution, place, or person
strongly defending or upholding particular principles, attitudes, or
activities
- Baffled. totally bewilder or perplex
- Sundry. various items not important enough
to be mentioned individually
- Ubiquity. the fact of appearing everywhere or of
being very common
- Accolades. an award or privilege granted as a
special honor or as an acknowledgment of merit
- Caveat. a warning or proviso of specific
stipulations, conditions, or limitations
- Grime. dirt ingrained on the surface of
something
- Incessant. (of something regarded as unpleasant)
continuing without pause or interruption
- Despoliation. the action of despoiling or the
condition of being despoiled; plunder
- Ghettoised. put in or restrict to an
isolated or segregated place, group, or situation
Summary
- Education
spending: All
major parties promise to increase spending to 4-5% of GDP (currently below
2%), but this seems unrealistic given Pakistan's economic situation.
- Right to
education: Only
the PPP explicitly mentions implementing Article 25A, guaranteeing free
and compulsory education.
- Curriculum: The PTI moved away from
a single curriculum but JI wants a uniform system with Islamic and
Pakistani ideology at the core, raising concerns about further religious
influence.
- Public-private
partnerships: All
parties except JI see them as a tool for improvement, but there are
concerns about potential privatization and avoiding government
responsibility.
- Higher
education: Both
PTI and PPP promise a university in each district, raising questions about
quality over quantity and existing unemployment among graduates.
- Overall: The manifestos offer
little hope for significant improvement in education. Most initiatives
mentioned have already been tried with limited success, and key issues
like Article 25A implementation are ignored by most parties.
Article
DO party manifestos show intentions?
Going by past record, they do not. Hardly ever have parties adhered to
manifestos. But manifestos do show what parties want the people to know or
think about their intentions.
Should party manifestos be judged on the basis of what is being
promised or should there be some assessment of whether or not the promises are
realistic and what plans, however rudimentary, have been shared about
how promises will be fulfilled?
If we go with promises alone, a party with no intention of
fulfilling them can promise the moon in their manifesto. If realism is the
test, the more realistic plans will look too modest compared to those promising
the moon. The best option seems to be to have some idea of what the promises
are, while keeping in mind our current position, and examining the ways parties
are suggesting for fulfilling their promises. Since worked-out plans are not
shared in manifestos, it remains a bit of a guessing game.
I had the opportunity to look at the education sections of the
manifestos of four political parties: the PML-N, PTI, PPP and the Jamaat-i-Islami (JI).
But we have never really gone above 2pc, despite many manifestos
promising this in the past as well. When the country raises only about 9-10pc
of GDP in taxes, how can education spending reach 4pc? Are all parties just
parroting what they are expected to say about education expenditure? Seems to
be more than a possibility.
The promise to
raise education expenditure to 4-5pc of GDP is an old one.
The PPP seems to be the only one that has given some thought to
the implementation of the right to education. The say they will ‘implement
Article 25A of the Constitution in letter and spirit’. And they do talk about
ensuring that a primary school can be reached within 30 minutes and secondary
school within 60 by every child (however, one is not clear if this is the
walking distance or distance travelled by other means).
It is good to see the PTI move away from its insistence on
having a ‘single’ curriculum to a ‘common core’ syllabus. They also mention
midday meals and free textbooks. But there is no discussion of 25A.
JI’s manifesto is quite elaborate but the most disturbing as
well. They do say they want education to be for all but they also say they will
have a uniform system of education for everyone. They do not elaborate on what
this means.
They want education to be a federal responsibility and not a
provincial subject. They want to put Islamic and Pakistani ideology at the
centre of our curriculum and want to ensure that all education is in accordance
with the requirements of the Quran and Sunnah. They promise to do away with
co-education.
Islamiat and Pakistan Studies are already compulsory subjects.
The PTI’s last government added a lot of new content to these subjects. The
Single National Curriculum added religious material to the curricula of other
subjects such as English and Urdu. Nazara Quranic recitation was made
compulsory. For higher grades, the teaching of the Quran with translation was
also added.
What more does JI want? How do we make education more Islamic
and Pakistani? There are many educationists who say that we have already turned
mainstream schools into madressahs.
On the whole, the manifestos are a disappointment. The promise
to raise education expenditure to 4-5pc of GDP is an old one and has never been
implemented. Given our current economic situation, it seems unlikely that any
government will be able to do that in the foreseeable future.
All parties, other than JI, mention they will use public-private
partnerships more extensively for improving educational access and the quality
of provision.
There is no real commitment to implementing Article 25A other
than by the PPP and JI. The PPP is the only party that makes the commitment
explicit. Most of the initiatives mentioned in the manifestos of the PML-N, PTI
and PPP are from their respective stints in government. But those initiatives
did not do a whole lot for education access or quality improvement even then.
How will they do better now?
If these manifestos represent the best thinking of these parties
on education issues and proposed solutions, education will remain a neglected
area and 26 million children will continue to stay out of schools and the
majority of children who are in schools in Pakistan will continue to get
poor-quality education.
Summary
Shifting Power Dynamics in Pakistan:
- Marginalized communities: Balochistan and
Gilgit-Baltistan, traditionally seen as peripheral regions, are
challenging the dominance of the center (Punjab and Islamabad) through
protests and activism.
- Women's leadership: Baloch women,
especially, are emerging as vocal leaders demanding justice and
accountability for disappearances and other human rights abuses.
- From margins to mainstream: Local grievances are
gaining national attention, disrupting the complacency of the political
center.
Examples of Challenges:
- Balochistan: Protest movements
against disappearances, underdevelopment, and lack of economic
opportunities.
- Gilgit-Baltistan: Sit-in against
withdrawal of wheat subsidy and imposition of taxes, highlighting
marginalization and neglect.
Wider Implications:
- Redefining center and
periphery: Traditional
notions of power dynamics are being challenged by voices from the margins.
- Social and political change: Indigenous ideas and
experiences are forcing a re-evaluation of dominant narratives.
- Growing dissent: The comfortable center
is being confronted by demands for justice and equality from oppressed
communities.
Article
OVER recent decades, in social and
political theory, the notions of ‘core’ or centre, and ‘periphery’ have been
challenged and completely upended.
In earlier social science, especially under the hegemony of
colonial writings, which morphed into what scholars termed as ‘orientalism’,
centre or core, and periphery mattered, primarily to emphasise dominance based
largely on racial and religious caricature.
The ‘centre’ was always London or Paris, when it came to British
or French imperialism, and the colonies were, literally, the peripheries,
inconsequential to how they perceived themselves to be, marginalised. The
entire structure of colonialism is based on this lie.
Subsequently, later in social theory, notions of democracy,
liberalism, religious and other practices, were also put into a comparative
frame of ‘real’ or ‘authentic’ practices (of the West, developed countries),
contrasted with more localised, indigenous or evolutionary practices in other
parts of the world, away from whatever was considered the core at any
particular time. At times, such a core or centre was a physical location, at
others an ideology, or a practice or particular way of doing something.
In Pakistan too, this notion of centre/ core and periphery, has
had both locational and ideological moorings, the dur-daraz
ilaqay, both in terms of where they are and how ‘backward’ they are
considered to be. However, the politics of agitation, protest and resistance is
reorienting and refocusing such notions completely, overturning outmoded
concepts, bringing the periphery right onto the central platform.
The voices of
the oppressed people are now increasingly being heard, and the oppressed are
finding supporters among those who reside in the locales of power.
Protest movements in both regions, Balochistan and
Gilgit-Baltistan, both of a very different nature, in terms of locale as well
as demands, are countering the centre from where such concerns originate.
Even the cruellest form of inhospitality and violence towards
those who gathered did not result in their resistance coming undone. Moreover,
a triumphant return to the centre of their
homeland, in the form of a massive jalsa in Quetta, seen by thousands live and
later, underscores how one cannot ignore the so-called peripheries.
The Gilgit-Baltistan
sit-in, too, related to issues which emanate from the centre,
Islamabad, such as the withdrawal on wheat subsidy or the imposition of taxes,
has lasted a month in temperatures which are often sub-zero. The sit-in has
moved towards a complete shutter-down strike and closure, with little public
transport and protests all over the region.
It is not just the Baloch or the people of Gilgit-Baltistan who
have come to challenge the hegemony and dominance of the centre, of Punjab and
Islamabad; importantly and most noticeably, it has been the women, especially
from Balochistan, who have emerged as leaders and spokeswomen asking difficult
questions and demanding answers from the powers responsible for those who are
being disappeared or silenced.
Balochistan is the least developed province of a country which
is fast under-developing and losing its economic and social position amongst
comparable countries which have now all moved ahead.
At a time when a pale and unexciting general election is taking
place in the heartland of Pakistan, it is voices coming from the responses to
Dr Mahrang Baloch’s rally in Quetta, which have become the voices of all the
people in Pakistan. Even from the periphery’s periphery — Turbat — from where
the protest march originated following the extrajudicial killing of Balaach Mola
Bakhsh attributed to the Counter-Terrorism Department, the bastion of
power and privilege in Pakistan, Islamabad, has been awakened by calls from
marchers 1,000 miles away. Demands for justice and retribution spoken softly at
first, from the inconsequential margins of power, have become much louder in
the bastions of power.
Just as social and political theory has been forced to surrender
to the hegemony and dominance of the so-called norm, which was always conceived
in an imagined and imperious centre, after being challenged by indigenous ideas
from indigenous people, so too, the dominant ideas and practices from the
centre in countries are being challenged by those supposedly on the margins.
The voices of the marginalised and oppressed people of Pakistan are now
increasingly being heard, and the oppressed are finding supporters and
sympathisers among those who reside in locales of power.
The complacent, secure and comfortable centre in Pakistan — of
politics, privilege and policy — is being overturned by those who have been
marginalised, oppressed and underprivileged, from the furthest regions in the
furthest peripheries of the country, as their voices now increasingly become
mainstream.
Summary
- The question of suffering: The article explores the
age-old question of why suffering exists, particularly in a world created
by a benevolent God.
- Different perspectives: It examines various
perspectives on suffering, including religious explanations (test of
faith, consequence of actions), philosophical views (necessary for growth,
understanding), and personal reflections.
- Finding meaning: The author acknowledges
the difficulty of finding meaning in suffering while experiencing it but
suggests accepting it as part of the human experience and focusing on our
response to it.
- Islamic perspective: The article draws on
Islamic teachings, highlighting that everyone faces challenges and our
limits are respected during such tests. It emphasizes finding grace and
resilience in dealing with suffering.
- Key point: Ultimately, the article
suggests that the question of "why" might not be as important as
how we approach and endure suffering in our lives.
Article
A STILLBIRTH. A toddler diagnosed with
Down syndrome. A teenage case of leukaemia. A rare blood disorder in the 30s.
Cancer with a single-digit survival rate in the 40s. Death at wholesale rate in
a territory — as if collective suffering somehow makes it easier to bear the
burden than individual loss. We are surrounded and baffled by suffering.
And what follows then is the biggest question of them all: why me? And why this
hardship?
But the question that has confounded theologians and
philosophers since the inception of humanity is even more fundamental: why does
suffering even exist in a world designed by a kind and benevolent God?
Christianity sees suffering as a consequence of the
‘disobedience’ of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Islam and Judaism
proclaim suffering to be a test of faith from God. Buddhism declares dukkha, a
result of material attachment, while Hinduism’s karma implies one’s current
suffering as an aftermath of their actions in previous lives.
Some philosophers argue that suffering is a necessary part of
human existence, fostering empathy, personal growth, or moral development.
Others opine that suffering is a necessary consequence of free will or that it
plays a role in the greater good.
Some say that
suffering is a necessary part of human existence.
In Man’s Search for Meaning, psychiatrist Viktor Frankl provides
a thoughtful analogy. He asks whether an ape being punctured repeatedly to
develop a vaccine would ever be able to grasp the meaning of its suffering. The
obvious answer is it would not; with its limited intelligence, it could not
enter the world of man — which is the only world in which the meaning of its
suffering would be understandable. He then follows up with a rhetorical
question about humans. Can we really understand the reason and the meaning of
our suffering while being part of this material world? “Is it not conceivable
that there is still another dimension; a world in which the question of an
ultimate meaning of human suffering would find an answer?”he asks.
Interesting, one thinks, but a grand argument does not ease the
pain or dilute my misery. And then comes the backup argument — you are not
alone! The list of beings afflicted by grief is led by our prophets. And then
there are all and sundry, everyone with a story of their own. The
variety and the ubiquity still do not relieve one’s agony, but maybe
they make it more digestible on the accord of it being somewhat democratic.
Here is how I try to wrap my head around it.
Everyone must get through it (Quran 2:155, 2:214, 29:2). This is
just by design, the way this universe is programmed. If we think someone is
spared and they have it all good in every sense, it is more our ignorance than
the absence of suffering.
Nobody will have it more than one could bear (Quran 2:286).
While everyone is unique and our sufferings appear unbearable, in the grand
factory of this world, we are not much different than pieces of metal coming
out of a foundry stamped with their unique tensile and yield strengths.
The Designer knows our limits, and those limits are respected
when we are put under these harsh tests.
Every situation is a test. This world around us is a test.
Sometimes, the test is of gratitude, and other times the test is of fortitude
(Quran 27:40). We feel the burn of the hard situations, but we do not feel the
blush of the good times.
If we think we do not deserve such a burdensome test, that is,
perhaps, quite true. The Quran says that “if Allah were to impose blame on the
people for what they have earned, He would not leave upon earth any
creature” (35:45). We are most likely getting much less than we truly deserve.
Our grace in how we deal with it will get us the accolades
we need for the later parts of your story (Quran 2:156-157, 2:177). The
sufferings of our prophets all had a good ending. But that exactly is the caveat.
They graced their sufferings with perseverance, resilience, and patience, which
in turn was rewarded by the Lord.
Now, does this answer all the questions for me? Maybe not. But
perhaps these are not the questions we ought to answer. The question for us is
to identify what our test is as we breathe the current breath. Is it the
security of our four walls and the roof we shelter under, or the guaranteed
next meal?
Or is our test the misfortune that is choking our airways, the
one that we did not foresee, and that we feel we did not deserve? The short
answer is: all of the above. And our attitude in dealing with them will
determine if we are truly worthy of these tests.
Summary
Islamabad's problems:
- Growing inequality: Wealthy elite enjoy
prosperity while working class lacks basic necessities like clean water
and public transport.
- Environmental degradation: Uncontrolled development
and land grabbing harm the ecosystem, with smog becoming a major concern.
- Lack of democracy: No strong local
government, with elite capturing power and ignoring needs of the majority.
- Marginalization of migrants: Working-class migrants
from other regions face discrimination and harsh living conditions.
Future outlook:
- Discontent rising: Frustration among
Baloch, Pashtun, Sindhi, and young people intensifies, potentially leading
to social unrest.
- Unsustainable development: Current trajectory
threatens the well-being of future generations.
- Need for change: Progressive political
movements offer hope for a more just and sustainable Islamabad.
Additional notes:
- The article criticizes the
CDA, the city's administrative body, for prioritizing profit over مردم (common people).
- The
recent killing of a political activist in Bajaur highlights the challenges
faced by marginalized groups.
- The
writer emphasizes the need for democratic reforms and inclusive
development to prevent further decline.
Article
SIXTY years after it was created,
Islamabad is still said to be 10 kilometres from Pakistan proper, an oasis of
greenery, prosperity and technocracy insulated from the grime, poverty
and chaos of the rest of the country. The city’s administrative and propertied
elite alike indulgently call it Islamabad the beautiful.
It certainly is — or perhaps it is more accurate to now say, was
— a pretty city. For the past few weeks, the Margalla Hills within which the
metropole nests have been barely visible, a low-hanging and thick cloud of smog
generating debate amongst the chattering classes whether the capital is now
beating Lahore, Karachi and Peshawar in the AQI stakes.
Once known for its trees and quiet, Islamabad is increasingly
the site of incessant road and real estate-related construction. The
city has expanded at exponential rates, the Capital Development Authority (CDA)
making billions from land auctions whilst dispossessing historical villages.
Gated housing schemes are all you see for miles in suburban geographies, and
purchasing a motor vehicle is the only way to get from one end of the
metropolis to the other.
Since the turn of the millennium, Islamabad’s population has
tripled from approximately 800,000 to 2.5 million. The majority of those who
have migrated into the capital are young and working class. There are low-caste
workers from villages in central Punjab and the Seraiki Wasaib, Pakhtuns who
have fled their homes due to the ‘war on terror’, and any number of Baloch,
Sindhi, Gilgit-Baltistani and other young people who have come to study or find
jobs.
There is no
democratic institution that exists in the capital.
There is no public transport for them, while health and
education are hostage to the dictates of profit. Potable water is drying up.
Those who aspire to white-collar lives survive in rented accommodation, while
the wretched of the earth can only find shelter in katchi abadis. This
working-class majority is not responsible for destroying the ecosystem — that
credit goes to property developers, big contractors and the civil-military
oligarchy — but it bears the primary costs of environmental despoliation.
Long before this winter’s smog made clear that Islamabad is
headed on a similar trajectory to the rest of metropolitan Pakistan,
Islamabad’s working people routinely dealt with violent dispossession from
homes and livelihoods. The irony is that katchi abadi dwellers, young students
and youth as well as daily wage workers and street vendors face the big stick
of the CDA and Islamabad administration in the name of ‘legality’.
Forget the land grabbing and other violations of the law by real
estate moguls, propertied classes and khaki-led bureaucratic overlords running
the city. There is no democratic institution that exists in the capital, with
the sole local government poll in 2016 making almost no dent on the city’s
bureaucratic temples. There are three National Assembly seats in the capital
and most bourgeois parties put up high-profile candidates with little
connection to the city’s working masses — and that is if one doesn’t even
account for the farcical nature of the coming (s)election.
Islamabad has certainly grown a reputation for hosting
protestors from across Pakistan, but the recent treatment of Baloch women who
led a long march into the city clarifies how genuinely democratic voices are
treated in what is supposed to be the symbol of the federation.
For all of its narcissism and lack of concern for working
people, Islamabad’s — and Rawalpindi’s — parasitic ruling class and those who
live on its coattails won’t be able to fully insulate itself from the downward
spiral over which it is presiding. The disaffection felt by Baloch,
Gilgit-Baltistani, Pakhtun, Sindhi, and so many young politically conscious
people both in their home regions and as migrants in the capital is
intensifying. The dastardly killing of a political youth leader in Bajaur shows
how little changes in the peripheries. In the capital itself, katchi abadi
dwellers and rehri-wallahs are still being ghettoised.
Islamabad’s environs are wasting away at the altar of profit and power with no care for the needs of future generations. The tyranny of a socioeconomic order in rural peripheries that forces working people to migrate and massive demographic pressures mean that young people looking for livelihood and dignity will continue to stream into the capital. An ossified administrative centre proudly founded by Gens Yahya Khan and Ayub Khan will continue to benefit from the labour of this mass while grimly refusing to shed its dictatorial essence. Progressive political mobilisation will be the countervailing force and our only hope that Islamabad — and the rest of metropolitan Pakistan — does not become a total graveyard for the working people that make it tick.
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