Eight people were killed over Basant “celebrations” in Lahore. God knows how many others died or were seriously injured in other parts of Pakistan as a result of some accident or the other while flying kites and firing guns. But the numbers must be disquieting. Hundreds of expensive computers, printers, scanners, photocopiers and other electrical machines also konked out (as did sensitive software files) when copper or glass coated kite-wires got entangled with WAPDA lines and led to countless power breakdowns. And all this, despite the fact that magistrates armed with Section 144 were supposed to be enforcing the law. What is even more remarkable is the fact that the Punjab government seemed to have officially sanctioned such mayhem. There are reports that the prime minister, the governor of the Punjab and the Governor of the Sindh were all conspicuous by their presence at Basant sites in Lahore.
Kite flying, it may be recalled, was once a “seasonal” activity associated with certain festivals in the Indian sub-continent. It is still seasonal, festive and peaceful in India. But in Pakistan it has become a permanent and expanding industry which is threatening to disrupt civil society. The use of firearms is one manifestation. Trespassing private property, disturbing communications and power supplies are others.
Of course, basant should be celebrated, if for no other reason thank taking time out. But why must people brandish guns and shoot them off recklessly? Why must people use copper wire to string their kites? Why can’t anything be done to restrain people from going overboard and transforming a sport (of sorts) into a war (of sorts)? Do we have to impose martial law in order to make sure that the joy of flying a kite is not thwarted by the agony of a power failure or the tragedy of a death? The irony is that while our governments are prepared to condone such reckless zeal during basant, they are ever willing to crack down on harmless new year’s eve revellers year in and year out.
But the issues are broader than basant brutalities. There is, generally speaking, no respect for the law among most Pakistanis. For example, we do not, as a rule, obey traffic rules. This is partly because we have never learnt them (no one has ever passed a genuine driving test before obtaining a driving licence) and partly because we just don’t give a damn even when we know what we’re doing is wrong — like parking in front of entry or exit points, like going against the traffic in one way street, like changing tyres on bridges, etc. The worst of our traffic crimes lines in imposing our own irrationality on a universalist culture of technology — as when the car in front dips its right indicator both to signal a right turn as well as permission to the car behind to overtake. Indeed we tent to drive our cars as though we are driving chariots and we park them as though we were tying up horses.
There are other extremely annoying distortions in everyday urban life. Our manholes are invariably either six inches below or above road level. Our speed breakers are veritable car-breakers. We make a find art of breaking appointments or arriving late as usual. We build extravagant monuments and motorways but we do not care to maintain them. We constantly allow private passions to override professional commitments. We are always sticking our noses in other peoples’ business. We make a hypocritical art of rituals like funerals and weddings. We do not believe in saying sorry, excuse me or pardon, and when we do, we do not mean a word of it. We are prepared to lay down our lies for obscure causes but we will not pay taxes to the government. In short, we always put private welfare above collective or public interest. And so on.
The point is that we have still not come out of our historical consciousness as a conservative, traditional, time-warped rural society despite the fact that over half of Pakistan is now urban and industrial. Some traditions that governed our rural life — decent community values — have broken down. But the worst of other traditions like tribal ritualism, misplaced notions of honour and chauvinism have been retained. Where we have made new laws, it has been without creating a culture of civic consciousness that obeys these laws. We have also imbibed the worst excesses of capitalism — private greed, corruption, consumption and individualism — without any of its merits of professionalism and the work ethic. This assimilation of the worst of the past and the worst of the present has created a state of social anarchy.
This anarchy derives from one fundamental fact: our lawmakers are our worst lawbreakers. It is they who set these despicable standards which the rest of us are only too happy to follow. The corruption of everyday life has therefore seeped into all classes. An urban variant of feudal culture is making everyday life unbearable. This will worsen our human condition unless our leaders set new standards of social and lawful behaviour for the rest of us to emulate.