Half the Story
After eight years mismanaging Pakistan, a nuclear-armed state faced with the demon of extremist violence, General Pervez Musharraf wants to stick around for another five, this time in the guise of a so-called civilian president. To that end, he has broken every conceivable principle of law, manipulated politics and wrecked hopes for a free election.
To escape public censure for these draconian acts, he has chained the independent media. News channels have been shut down or, in case of the one I represent, forced to take their current affairs shows off air. The general’s close aides instruct owners to keep outspoken reporters on a tight leash or risking having their licences cancelled. Fearful of multi-million pound losses, most have fallen in line.
My show, Live with Talat, has been the first casualty of this effective blackmail. The terms for staying on the air would have been hilarious if they weren’t so damning of our fundamental rights. No criticism of Musharraf; no criticism of anyone he nominates to perform any task; and no criticism of the judges he has handpicked for endorsement as president for another term. Surviving reporters have to mind their words and even their body language: a harsh word, a glare, a shrug or a finger-wag are enough to justify closure of the channel.
Barred from the airwaves, we talk show hosts have taken to the streets.
This week we started holding our shows on the roadside. Hundreds of people come and listen to the lively debates, which are not televised.
But even this is unacceptable. Last Friday one such roadshow had to be cancelled after the host channel’s owner threatened to fire anyone attempting to arrange it. It was obvious where his orders came from.
Across the country journalists protesting these draconian regulations face batons and brute force. Last week in Karachi, Pakistan’s financial nerve centre, police beat journalists and rounded up over 150, many of who were dragged from inside the press club. Some have been charged with serious crimes and are now on the wanted list.
Worse, all avenues of judicial protection against such brutalities are closed. The judiciary is packed with Musharraf’s men. They have replaced judges of great calibre who tried to enforce the law against Musharraf, who in turn responded by imposing his second martial law on November 3.
Since then, 60 dissenting judges from the higher judiciary have been under house arrest. The home of the chief justice, Justice Iftikhar Muhammad Chaudhry, is closed to visitors.
Lawyers critical of the general are in jail including Munir Malik, a former president of the supreme court. Three days ago, Malik was taken from a centuries-old dungeon, where he had spent three weeks in solitary confinement, to hospital, where doctors said he was suffering from kidney failure. His crime was to lead the lawyers’ movement against Musharraf’s purge of principled judges.
The media cannot fully report these abominable events because it is operating in a climate of fear. Pakistanis are not being allowed to see even a fraction of the dreadful conditions around them. They do not know how the dictatorship has pushed the country to the brink of disaster.
How there is no “emergency” in the country, but actually a martial law, because Musharraf, as the army chief, has shoved the constitution out of the window.
Meanwhile on the official media, Musharraf waxes lyrical in self-praise. He talks about nurturing democracy and stabilising Pakistan. He justifies his martial rule on flimsy grounds: to protect the country; to prevent international terrorists from threatening world peace; and, incredibly, to build genuine democracy – the same argument he used when he took power eight years ago.
The whole world agrees that Pakistan can be salvaged only through democracy. But there can be no democracy without free media. And there can be no free media as long Musharraf continues to put himself above the law and the constitution.
Source: The Guardian
Date:11/28/2007
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