Silencing the media
Talat Farooq
According to The Washington Post, “media censorship is nothing new in Pakistan, where military dictators come and go. But newly proposed rules to ban TV programming deemed ‘against the national interest’ spring from an unlikely source: a civilian government that has prided itself on inching the country towards democracy over the past four years.” Apparently, the newly proposed rules aimed at banning TV programmes contrary to national security interests are also an immature bid to block or curtail criticism of state organs.
What is the “national interest” here? If the government wants to restrict information or expression in the name of national security, then it must demonstrate such a purpose as being genuine. In order to establish the need to curb expression it must demonstrate that (a) the information at issue, or expression thereof, really presents a serious threat to national security, and (b) that the restriction is compatible with liberties granted to the people of Pakistan by the Constitution.
Governments’ assumption of the right to curb freedom of expression derives from the attitude of ends justifying the means. Any curb in the name of national security is legitimate only if its absence would threaten the territorial existence of the country or the national capacity to respond to an internal or external threat. It is downright illegitimate if, instead, its purpose is to protect the government from embarrassment or divulgence of corrupt practices, or to protect a particular ideological mindset or to hide information pertaining to the functioning of public institutions.
If the national security interest at stake here is the survival of the country, then this national interest is in the process of being undermined by some other sections of Pakistani society that are in desperate need of government regulation. The mullah for example, has been the most vocal opponent of sectarian harmony in Pakistan since the country’s inception. This has been a potent threat to Pakistan’s national security, especially since the 1980s when the state itself backed such societal divisions. The ideological mindset that spews hatred from the mosques continues to be a serious threat to the territorial integrity of Pakistan. Unable to flourish in a diverse milieu of belief systems, the extremist cannot but impose uniformity by stamping out difference of opinion.
Isn’t it strange that the religious extremists and militants have the greatest freedom of speech ever granted to any group of individuals in Pakistani society? Their hate sermons are an example at hand. Stereotyping and cursing Muslim and non-Muslim minorities is a common feature within these so-called religious forums. How about regulating mosques and madressahs where hatred is not only expressed but also materialises into action? More than a hundred Shias have been martyred since January this year alone.
Would the democratic government of Pakistan, for instance, dare to regularise Lashkar-e-Jhangvi? Will it protect the right to life of moderate Muslims in Pakistan, who have coexisted with other sects for centuries? Would the civilian government dare? Will it protect the rights of the minorities? For that matter, is it able to protect the rights of the majority of Pakistanis held hostage to an ambiguous concept of national interest for more than five decades? It is this very concept of national interest that has fattened the mullah, the feudal and the uniformed elite.
How come the religious extremists have all the freedom in the world to express themselves in words and actions, but the media doesn’t? What kind of topsy-turvy logic is this? In a country where nothing is regulated to benefit the powerless people of Pakistan their only source of power is being attacked by none other than the champions of democracy.
Apparently, the impetus for the regulatory drive was a Karachi television programme in which a band of middle-aged women in a park questioned young couples about their marital status. Since when has the government found the courage to protect the privacy of the individual? Privacy is inclusive of freedom of thought and beliefs, including religious beliefs. The government was unable to protect its own provincial governor, to say nothing of an ordinary Pakistani down the street.
According to The Washington Post, “Any ban on purported anti-state news would extend to coverage of the secessionist movement in Balochistan.” Rehman Malik has already been asking news channels not to invite Baloch separatist leaders on their shows. Why not? Who is sacred of their opinions? The secessionist movement in Balochistan is the logical outcome of state policies and military solutions to a complex social and political problem. The extrajudicial killings and missing persons are not the result of freedom of expression. On the contrary, absence of such liberty and denial of provincial autonomy and usurpation of the economic rights of the Baloch are the main reasons. If the state wants to avoid a repetition of an East Pakistan-like tragedy, then it needs to focus on the underlying festering causes, instead of using the “national interest” as a pretext to settle personal scores.
The right to freedom of speech is too important a subject to be left to the government; such issues should only be assessed by a body of politically independent media monitors. Discouragement of a tyranny of political majority is an excellent reason to curtail government censorship. If the government can restrict speech, there is no way smaller groups can be heard. If they are not heard their grievances do not fizzle out, instead they multiply. There is a simple psychological angle to free speech called catharsis. Verbalisation of inner turmoil, anger or distress is the first indispensable step towards conflict resolution. The art of listening is the most difficult of skills, but once learnt it can prove therapeutic for both the speaker and the listener.
The writer is a PhD student at Leicester, UK. Email: [email protected]
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