Mr Asif Vardag, formerly of the Tehreek-e-Istaqlal and lately of the IJI, was reportedly loaded with money and other pieces of paper promising plots of land, when he holed out in Abbotabad last week, backed up by a Punjabi superintendent of police, Mr Pervez Rathore. His mission: by hook or by crook, to blow down Mr Aftab Sherpao’s fragile House in the NWFP.
Mr Sherpao, naturally, was not amused. So Mr Vardag was ceremoniously booted out of the Frontier and asked to cool his heels in the Punjab.
This sort of thing used to happen fairly frequently in the good old days of martial law when politicians were barred from entering a particular province ‘in the interest of law and order’. In fact, the tradition goes way back. But in these democratic times no provincial government has taken recourse to such measures to keep trouble makers out; not even Mr Nawaz Sharif, when the Feds were camped in Lahore some months ago conspiring to overthrow him. That is why Mr Sherpao’s hasty action has rebounded on him and he has had to retreat under a barrage of criticism.
We thoroughly disapprove of any attempt by anyone to destabilise a democratically elected government anywhere in Pakistan. The PPP, notwithstanding the aversion of Mian Nawaz Sharif and Co to the ideals of democratic politics, had no business trying to overthrow the IJI government in the Punjab. By the same token, we resolutely condemn the IJI’s bellicose attitude towards PPP governments in Islamabad and the NWFP. It is one thing to sit in opposition honourably, and quite another, totally unacceptable, to conspire by all the foul means available to undermine the legitimacy of an elected government.
Everyone knows Mr Vardag was up to no good. Unfortunately for all of us, it is no longer so novel or unconscionable, or even odious to sell your soul for a handful of money. The practice is common enough, and politicians and many others in this country think nothing of it. But, because the roots of such corruption have spread so deep into our society, nothing short of a bloody revolution will redress matters. In the meantime, however, because we all live in glass houses, we must be more tolerant and learn not to throw stones at others. So Mr Vardag’s conspiracies and villainous methods notwithstanding, Mr Sherpao did wrong to kick him out of his province. Such arbitrary methods belong, in theory, to the dark ages of dictatorship, and we would do well to disown practises of that time, rather than to fish them out at the drop of a hat.