May 11, 2013 § 1 Comment
Pakistan goes to the polls today in one of the largest and most exciting elections in the world. Only the USA, Brazil, and Indonesia have more people voting on a single day – and Brazil might not be able to say that for long (Pakistani census data is notoriously poor and out of date; we do not know if Pakistan is more populous than Brazil – it might be – it does however have fewer registered voters for the moment). Pakistani elections are brilliant, and this one is even more brilliant than usual.
The writing about it over here has been a bit tame though. A lot of the articles in the mainstream western media have been more-or-less the same. And considering what a major event it is there hasn’t even been that much of it. There wasn’t even the traditional Tariq Ali piece in the Guardian bemoaning how the Pakistani people have a thirst for democracy but their leaders let them down (he wrote about Sri Lanka for the LRB instead – I can relate). This piece by Jason Burke is pretty good – you, at least, get the impression that the author stepped out of the air conditioning in the course of writing it.
Of course it doesn’t matter that this is slim fare because Pakistan itself has a truly phenomenal English language media. Indeed if I was being provocative and wanted to link bait I’d say something Niall Fergusony like:
Pakistan has the freest media in the world
I say Niall Fergusony because it is not true, indeed its frankly a bit ridiculous, but it will bring the punters flocking in to be outraged, shocked, or just curious. Its also a bit Niall Fergusony in that it does contain the gem of an interesting idea, albeit one which is not explored or illuminated in any way. While Pakistan has its problems with censorship and with the murder of journalists, it does have an extraordinary diversity of different news outlets, representing different opinions and sections of society. Of course not everyone is represented evenly, or across all languages, but the Pakistani media is at least a diverse and decent read. The other thing Pakistan has – and here I am using up my one permitted ethnocentric cliché – is that Pakistan has a fairly healthy culture (at least within limits and more so within the English language media) of publicly discussing its faults. Compared to, for example, Sri Lanka the Pakistani press corps are far far more willing to go after a juicy story involving the powerful and their misdeeds.
In fact, if you take away one thing from this post it is that you don’t need to read this post. Read Pakistani media, read Dawn. Particularly their various brilliant young bloggers and you will find out everything you need. Read this exceptional piece of work by Umair Javed. You don’t need me at all.
And yet strangely we westerners seem to feel the need to have other westerners explain Pakistan to us, as if Pakistanis didn’t speak English (they do – or at lest a few tens of millions of them do), didn’t have access to the higher levels of education necessary to make sense of it all for themselves (they do, they have some of the best universities in Asia) or found that it was all too close to home and sensitive to write about (it isn’t and they do write about it). And that’s how I come in: as a person who knows far far less about Pakistan than most Pakistanis, but is somehow invited to be on a radio panel discussion about it all on Monday. And I feel like a fraud.
And I feel even more like a fraud than normal this time round because the circumstances I alluded to previously mean that I haven’t been following the election with anything like the attention it deserves.
So I’m going to bluff, but by being tongue-in-cheek about it and presenting the piece as a “bluffer’s guide to the elections” you won’t be able to notice. In other words I’ve taken my shortcomings as a researcher and co-opted them as central to the conceit of the article. Booya!
How did we get here?
Actually in the end there is a simple answer to this: because time was up and constitutionally an election had to happen. But the journey wasn’t quite as simple as that.
Pakistan’s latest experiment in military dictatorship ended in 2007-8 with a quasi-popular quasi-judicial uprising known as the “Pakistan lawyers’ movement”. Following that Asif Ali Zardari, the leader of one of the major anti-dictatorship parties (the PPP) became President. However the courts in Pakistan, and many of the judges who had played a key role in ending the dictatorship, became increasingly associated with one of the other major anti-dictatorship parties (the PML-N). As the dictatorship, and the pro-dictatorship parties faded in to history, and the main political rivalry reset as PPP vs PML-N, this developed into open warfare between the courts and the Presidency.
(Of course some would argue that the courts were just doing their job and there was no politics to it, and that might have been true in part, indeed at times they may actually have been correct in law. But there did certainly seem to be a politically motivated element at times.)
It all started to revolve around something called the “Swiss letter”. Asif Ali Zardari is widely believed to be corrupt and to have been corrupt for some time. Around 2003 the Swiss Government started to investigate Zardari in conjunction with some dealings he had with a Swiss company in 1994. They didn’t get anywhere and wrapped up the case. In 2008 Zardari was elected President and so the Pakistani Government wrote to the Swiss Government saying that as President Zardari now enjoys immunity and so they would no longer be cooperating with the case. The Swiss replied that it was all somewhat academic as the case had been wrapped up.
Then in 2009 the Pakistani Government passed a law (well technically they repealed a law) which altered the extent to which immunity can be applied in cases of corruption. The courts and the PML-N felt that this now meant that the Swiss could proceed with the case (The Swiss continued to point out that it was all somewhat academic as the case had been wrapped up). The courts then tried various tactics to force the PPP Prime Minister Yousuf Raza Gilani to write a letter to the Swiss asking them to reopen the case.
The actual point, as the Swiss kept saying, was academic, but this argument quickly lost all connection to the point and became about principle (combating corruption on the one hand the supremacy of elected bodies on the other) and even more so about politics. It culminated in April of last year with Gilani being found guilty of contempt of court for not sending such a letter. He was sentenced to a notional minute in prison, to be served (since it was notional) by sitting in the courtroom. However that minute was crucial as ex-felons (even purely notional ones) can’t be MPs and non-MPs can’t be Prime Minister. And so Gilani was toppled.
However meanwhile outside the courthouse there had been a sudden surge in popularity for Imran Khan’s political party: the PTI. The PML-N suddenly realised that forcing early elections (which until then had been the ultimate plan) could well come back and bite them as Khan was at the peak of his popularity. And so at this moment of triumph they backed off and allowed a succession of caretaker Prime Ministers to finish out the term. A compromise letter was finally sent to the Swiss in November to which the Swiss replied, their voices slightly hoarse, that it was all somewhat academic as the case had been wrapped up.
Bluffing dos and don’ts – Do: Tell the almost certainly apocryphal but brilliant story about how, half way through Gilani’s notional minute’s detention in the courtroom, his lawyer stood up and asked if his client could be released early for good behaviour while in prison.
Don’t: Endlessly chirrup “Swiss letter”, “Swiss letter” (unless you want a job in the PML-N). The Swiss letter is frankly no longer that politically relevant.
Its totally wrong to start with the army because the role of the army in the electoral process is hugely overstated. But structurally this is where this fits, and I am all about structure.
Pakistan has had at least four successful military coups, has spent more time under military rule than not, and – as everyone keeps saying – today’s elections mark the first time in history a democratically elected government has seen out its term (although it is a bit of a fudge to mention the military in this context as many of the judicial coups of the early ’90s didn’t really involve the military much). The military hold an enormous amount of sway in Pakistani society and even without any of the rumours you hear about a shadowy “election unit” operating within the ISI (Pakistani military intelligence) it is clear that senior figures within the military hold significant amounts of political power.
But I do feel the extent to which the army pull the strings in Pakistan is overstated. Firstly the Pakistani army is not a monolith. For simplicity’s sake I’m just going to describe two of the main schools of thought within the army but there are many. The first is the section of the army that thinks of itself in the mould of the Turkish army – the bastions of liberal secular moderation against the barbarism of the masses. Former dictator Pervez Musharraf was very much from this school. They support the secular parties – although they were originally willing to also support Imran Khan because he was a “moderniser”.
The second is the school of thought which grew up around dictator-but-one Zia ul-Haq and his CIA trained operatives in the 1980s. This is hard line anti-India and Islamist – although mostly not to the extent of wanting to scare away the American money that the Pakistani army love so much. They support the exact opposite set of political parties – although they too went through an Imran Khan phase because he was making the right noises (they saw him as being the best of all possible worlds – an Islamist who the west would continue to fund – in other words they saw him as a return to their halcyon days of the 1980s when they got paid to be Islamist).
When the army are in power they are a powerful force for remaining in power – as the durability of the various “kings parties” (political parties developed by military dictators to transition into quasi-civilian rule) show. But out of power the army pulls in different directions and largely against itself. They are a factor to be sure, but they are not the only factor.
The PML-N and Nawaz Sharif
Nawaz Sharif is a self made businessman from Lahore (he and his family are actually from Pakistani Kashmir but have developed a Lahori identity). He was Prime Minister twice in the 1990s and, crucially, his brother Shahbaz has been Chief Minister (effectively Governor) of the Punjab – Pakistan’s largest state – for the last five years.
If you ask the Sharif brothers’ many admirers they will tell you they are well liked because they get things done in a good old fashioned way. They get up early in the morning, eat plenty of ghee, and then they shout down telephones until Pakistan is fixed. If you ask the Sharif brothers’ many detractors they will say they are corrupt, and that they have no substance or political principle.
The Sharif brothers have a tight grip over the PML-N (which stands for Pakistan Muslim League – Nawaz, and decends from a faction of the old PML that split when Nawaz split) but they are more than a one family party. They tend to be the party of “upstart” rich self-made men: industrialists, urbanites, but, above all, of Punjabis. Last time out the PML-N only won 6 of the 124 Parliamentary seats outside of the Punjab; however they won 61 of the 148 seats in the Punjab. Even within the Punjab they are concentrated in the more urban and industrial north. However as this is where most of the population, and seats, are concentrated you can absolutely win a general election this way.
They see themselves as centre right and very mild Islamist (they sell themselves as an even softer and more secular version of Turkey’s Justice and Development Party). But largely the difference between them and the other parties is that their supporters tend to be more urban and to work in manufacturing – rather than any deeper issue of principle.
Every political party in Pakistan has a symbol and a flag. The symbol is so they can be identified on the ballot paper by people with limited literacy, and the flag is for waving. The PML-N’s flag is kind of dull:
Their symbol however has caused no end of fun. Its the tiger:
Now some bright spark decided that this would make for a good campaigning brand. Nawaz Sharif was to be portrayed as the “tiger of the Punjab”. This works on many levels: its the king of the jungle, it has its roots in the subcontinent and Mughal connotations, its fierce and brave, and its a reference to the famous 1970s Punjabi politician Ghulam Mustafa Khar “the Lion of the Punjab”.
Anyway so far the tiger brand seems like a good idea. But they took it too far. Much much too far. For example they made his supporters dress in plush tigerskin onesies:
You thought/hoped I was joking didn’t you? It could be worse though. You could completely cover your entire car in plush tigerstripes:
At least that logically makes sense though. Its not like they covered their entire car in psychedelic crepé paper for no reason and then stuck a half arsed papier maché tiger on the roof:
Still at least they know what a tiger is. Prepare yourself for the worst thing ever:
Where to begin with this monstrosity? Probably with the fact that THAT IS NOT A TIGER THAT IS A LEOPARD. Also the left arm has been done differently and looks shit. Also the whole thing looks shit. What facial expression were they going for? Why is it humping the car?
There’s various montages going around of shit PML tigers. Because it is easy to mock. Easy and fun. Things got slightly more serious (while still remaining farcical) with “tigergate”. Because you knew at some point an actual tiger was going to rock up:
Sadly it seems this tiger was exposed to thirty degree heat for far too long and died. Petitions were launched in the high court on behalf of the tiger. Now it has been suggested that actually the tiger didn’t die and is doing fine. Either way poor tiger – it hasn’t had a fun few weeks. Probably better to just get fat Punjabi men to dress like furries.
Do say: “It will be interesting to see how well the PML will fare outside their Punjabi heartland”. (It won’t be because they won’t and don’t need to, but it will make you sound like you know what you are talking about.)
Don’t say: “Incidentally the ‘Lion of the Punjab’ Khar’s ex-wife Tehmina Durrani wrote a brutal and engrossing if slightly mad book about Khar’s cruelty to her; Durrani is now married to Shahbaz Sharif and Khar is campaigning for him.” Then make some terrible joke about ligers.
The PTI and Imran Khan
Imran Khan was an absolutely magnificent cricketer. Then for a while he was a dilettante playboy (there’s a wonderful line in his 1991 appearance on Desert Island disks when Sue Lawley says to him, “drinking and womanising aside, you’re a very religious man aren’t you Imran?”). Then even less forgivably he moved to the UK and married a woman with a Jewish surname (that her dad was a fascist actually wasn’t a problem). Then much more forgivably he moved back to Pakistan, set up some really good charities and built and absolutely fantastic cancer hospital. Then he embarked upon a fifteen year long complete joke of a political career in which his party didn’t win a single seat.
Then the PTIsunami happened.
I’ve written about the PTIsunami before but I was probably a bit too dismissive. Nothing I wrote there was really wrong but I missed two fairly important factors. One was that once the bandwagon started to roll it attracted media coverage and Khan does really well in the media. What then became apparent is that there’s a new constituency in Pakistan, of mostly young (Pakistan has a very young population; over 30% of voters in this election are under 30) mostly urban, but in any instance uprooted and unaffiliated voters who are willing and able to vote for whomsoever they please – as opposed to feeling obliged by patronage, village, or family to support a certain candidate. They started to flock to Khan in droves.
The second thing that happened, and I don’t want to overstate this, is that the army started to push Khan. As I discussed before this is because he managed to convince both the secularists and the Islamists that he was one of them. They saw him as the President they had always dreamed of in that he on the one hand expressed the anti-western sentiments they felt, but still on the other was beloved of the west and so would continue to attract arms and investment.
Looking back I honestly think Khan could have won an election if it had taken place 18 months to a year ago. The problem with bandwagons however is that they run out of momentum and this started to happen. Its quite hard to keep a young, unrooted, unorganised and fickle support base going over 18 months without any significant party structure. Also people started to worry that there might not be too much substance behind him: the Islamists started to worry he might actually mean the Secularist stuff, the Secularists started to worry he might actually mean the Islamist stuff, those that joined him on the anti-corruption bandwagon started to worry about what it meant that the army and all these big landlords had suddenly joined, and the army and all the big landlords started to worry that if he won he might not need them and might actually get serious on corruption. Above all the herculean task of winning a first-past-the-post election from a base of zero seats started to hit home.
Khan did make some efforts to build a lasting party and appear like less of a one man band – most notably by bringing in ex PPP heavy hitter Shah Mehmood Qureshi and even occasionally hinting that if the PTI won Qureshi – not Khan – might be the Prime Minister (I still think this might happen if Khan has to go into a coalition he is not happy with as it will allow him to keep his hands clean and paladin-like). He also tried to define what the PTI is about, but here he is still struggling.
People project a lot of views onto Khan that he has never actually expressed. Because he is new, and exciting, and might win, everyone is hoping he shares their views, and this process of projection is made easier by him talking in semi meaningless terms: saying he believes in things like “modernisation” and “communitarianism” which could mean anything, and that he is against corruption (has any politician ever spoken out passionately in favour of corruption?).
Its pretty clear to me that the PTI are mildly Islamist and on the centre-right. Even if that’s not where they want to be I think that’s where their support base will push them. For one thing their support base has a lot of overlap with the PML-N – more than any other party – and so they will be pushed PML-Nwards. Additionally their support is largely based on the media and the media are mostly Islamist centre-right. And finally their support is largely urban and middle class (because those are the unrooted voters) and the urban middle classes are Islamist and centre right. However there are people who will insist until they are blue in the face that Khan’s talk about modernisation and the battle against poverty means that he is a centre-left secularist.
So it looks like Khan had missed his window but then as the election, and media election fever, started up the bandwagon did start rolling again and now all the talk is once again about Khan. And so now we really don’t know. Did he leave it too late? Is it too much of a task?
We also don’t know what effect him falling off that stage had.
Khan may have thought that in this post Jennifer Lawrence era falling off the stage was now cute. For me it seems a bit more Bob Dole.
Mockery aside we should point out that this was a more serious fall than the Dole/Lawrence falls. He fell 4.5 meters off a forked lift truck that was transporting him up onto a raised stage and broke two vertebrae He was in hospital for a bit but is fine now. Again it could split either way: massive outpouring of sympathy and admiration for his speech from the hospital bed – or that old adage “never elect a guy who falls off a stage”.
The PTI flag is very generic:
The PTI symbol is a cricket bat which has to be cheating because cricket is Pakistan’s national religion. Imagine if the Labour Party in Newcastle changed their symbol to Jackie Milburn (actually that is a really good idea):
Do say: “Khan coordinates his supporters via SMS”. Its true and it also makes his supporters sound like tamagotchis or Beliebers.
Don’t say: “Khan is batting higher than his average”. All cricket metaphors have already been used. Also don’t use cricket metaphors unless you know what you are doing. Khan only averaged 37.69 so batting higher than his average wouldn’t be that impressive. He more than made up for it with ball and armband but, while a solid and occasionally brilliant batsman, it was never his job to get the big runs. Besides he did the jobs that needed doing up and down the order – he didn’t have the long spell at no3/4 you need to pad your average.
The PPP and ???
The Pakistan People’s party are in many ways Pakistan’s most established and successful party. They were founded by Zulfikar Ali Bhutto who, while a very long way from a saint, was a brilliant and charismatic leader who did what no Pakistani politician has really done before or since, which is to build a stable and lasting political party around an ideology: in this case centre-left secularism. Bhutto was judicially murdered in a military coup, thus ensuring his political immortality.
As a result the PPP has become the Bhutto party. They were next led by Bhutto’s daughter Benazir, after she was assassinated her husband Asif Ali Zardari took over. He is widely loathed to the extent that now Benazir’s son Bilawal has taken over.
The problem here is that Bilawal is 24 and to be Prime Minister of Pakistan you have to be 25. Furthermore he seems fairly uninterested in the electoral process and has left Pakistan for Dubai for the duration of the elections. If the PPP do win it is likely that the current Prime Minister Raja Pervez Ashraf will continue, at least for a while.
Meanwhile the eminence grisé of the current PPP, and the man who has been largely heading up the electoral campaign, is former Prime Minister Yousaf Raza Gillani. He is continuing to do so despite the fact that his son has been kidnapped.
The PPP do actually have quite a bit of strength-in-depth, more so than most of the other parties. The most photogenic is the Foreign Minister Hina Rabbani Khar. Articles written by men usually contain some fatuous excuse to include a photo of her:
Although the PPP still go through the motions of being a secular left-wing party (and probably are a bit more secular and left wing than the others) these days they tend to be more about the fact that they have a different support base than the other parties. They are more Sindhi, and thus less Punjabi, and thus more pro-decentralisation. They are more Shia Muslim (although most of the top brass maintain at least a pretence of being Sunni) and thus less pro official Sunnidom. They are more rural and thus less interested in cities. And they are more old money and landed aristocracy and so are against “upstart” capitalists like the Sharifs. They also have a reputation for corruption. At some point the Bhuttos and the Sharifs seemed to be engaged in some wierd kleptocratic race.
One of the other key areas of strength for the PPP (apart from Sindh) is the southern Punjab. This is where Gilani is from and he commands a lot of clout here. They speak a slightly different form of Punjabi called Saraiki and the PPP are proposing the Punjab be split in two and a Saraiki province be established. This is a brilliant political maneuver. Firstly it is wildly popular in the southern Punjab and will bag them a ton of votes. Secondly its essentially a pledge to cut the PML-N’s power base in two. Unsurprisingly the PML-N are not thrilled about this, but its getting to the point where they cannot oppose it or they will be dead in the south.
The PPP seem fairly resigned to the fact that they will take a hit at this election. Indeed they are oddly relaxed about it. In part this is because they know that whatever the PTI do it is going to hurt the PML-N more than them, and indeed they might win a few seats by coming through the middle. In part it is because they don’t face much of a threat in their core areas. And in part it is because it seems fairly likely that there will be a coalition government and the PPP are very good at building coalitions.
I think the PPP’s flag is really cool but I can’t really explain what I like about it:
The PPP’s symbol is the arrow:
Do say: “The PPP might get away with it this time round but the prospects for a predominantly rural party in a rapidly urbanising nation are pretty bleak.” Don’t say it too much though because its my PhD thesis. Get your own
Don’t say: “Where’s Bilawal?”
Some of these parties are actually quite important but none will contribute a Prime Minister.
The PML-Q (meaning Pakistan Muslim League – Quaid. Quaid being short for Quaid e Azam, this translates as “father of the nation” ie Jinnah) were built by the Army and Musharraf as a “kings party” in the early 2000s. They were and still are dominated by two Sharif-like brothers: rich industrialists known as the Chaudhurys of Gujrat. History has rather left the PML-Q behind and they have shrunk considerably and will shrink further. However there are at least 15 or 20 seats where PML-Q candidates are so enshrined by local patronage that they will win come what may. They will side with the PPP in a coalition because they hate the PML-N more.
There are a host of other parties with PPP or PML in their name. This is because both the PPP and the PML have fractured at various points in their history. Also to be thought of in the same terms are the National People’s Party. Many of these parties have strong family ties with particular seats and so will win one or two seats but no more.
Generally speaking if they have PPP in their name then they hate the PPP and will side with the PML and vice verca. Probably the most significant is the PML-F (the F stands for “functional” which is wonderfully passive aggressive). This is because they are the party of the Pir of Pagaro, a famous dynastic sufi spiritual leader and mediocre cricketer. They always win about five seats in northern Sindh where the following of the Pir is strongest. The Pir himself died last year, but as an immortal saint this is unlikely to have much impact on his electoral performance
The ANP (Awami National Party) are notionally a left wing secular party. More importantly they are a Pathan ethnocentric party. Indeed they largely seem left wing and secular merely because they are mostly competing with religious parties for Pathan votes. They have two areas of strength: the border areas with Afghanistan (what used to be called the NWFP or North West Frontier Province, and is now called KPK or Khyber Pakhtunkhwa) and large cities – notably Karachi – with a sizable migrant Pathan population. Although notionally the same party there is a fair bit of difference between the ANP in KPK which is largely controlled by the Wali Khan family; and the ANP in Karachi which is largely controlled by Shahi Sayed. The ANP would probably be happiest in a PPP coalition.
The MQM (which now officially stands for Muttahida Qaumi Movement – meaning united national movement – but used to stand for Muhajir Quami Movement meaning united Muhajir movement) claim to be a liberal secular centrist party but in reality are an ethnically based party of the Muhajirs – the name given to Urdu speaking refugees who came from India in 1947. They are exceptionally populists and ethnocentric and the term fascist gets used about them frequently – and with increasing justification. They are also, frankly, gangsters. They are controlled by Altaf Hussein, a London-based godfather who makes Scarface look like a milquetoast. The MQM are big in urban areas of Sindh. As such they are sworn enemies of the PPP locally but might actually work with them nationally – they’ll work with anyone nationally.
The religious parties don’t actually get much of the vote. This isn’t to say that they aren’t important – more on that later – but they just don’t win seats. This time round there are four main religious parties. The JI (Jamaat Islami – Islamic Party) were the biggest, but are really down on their luck this time round with a lot of their natural support going to the PTI. They also have to deal with the fact that the coalition of tiny religious parties that usually support them have this time formed their own coalitions: the Shia MWM (Majlis Wahdat-e-Muslimeen – united Muslim council) and the Sunni MDM (Mutahida Deeni Mohaz – united religious front). Finally, the JUI (Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam – party of the clerics of Islam) are more ethnically based in the Pathan community and so have more concentrated support in the north west and so might do a bit better.
Baluchi politics is a mess. None of the non-Baluchi political parties win more than one or two seats in Balochistan. In a way it doesn’t matter as there aren’t that many seats in Balochistan and whoever wins tends to do a deal with the leading coalition anyway. Generally speaking the parties that win believe in some sort of Baluchi nationalism – but not one strident enough to mean the army has to be sent in again.
Do say: “The MQM will be part of the ruling coalition.” There have been safer bets, but not many.
Don’t say: “Pakistan is in the grip of Islamic extremism! Oh my god! We’re all going to die! No no no no no no no no no no!” (unless you want a job working for Fox)
Here comes a map
This was the result last time.
- PPP 124
- PML-N 91
- PML-Q 54
- MQM 25
- ANP 15
- Islamic Parties 7
- PML-F 5
- Various other PPP splinter groups 2 (PPP-S 1 and NPP 1)
- Balochistan National Party 1
- Independents 18
This led to a PPP Prime Ministership and Presidency and to a PPP/PML-N/ANP/JUI coalition government. The PML-N later left this coalition while the MQM joined it only to leave some time later still. The PML-Q have been informal supporters of the coalition for some time. The PML-N took office in the Punjab, the PPP in Sindh, the ANP in the NWFP (which they renamed KPK) and Balochistan remained a mess.
The provinces here are slightly separated to distinguish them. The top white bits are Pakistani Kashmir and Gilgit Baltistan. They are – no kidding – administered as colonies from Islamabad and don’t get to vote. India occupies half of it anyway.
The top long thin one which starts with the green is KPK. It is largely Pashtun. This is likely to be a battle between the secular Pashtun ANP and the religious Pashtun JUI although the fact that both of them are pretty weak right now means other parties might try to muscle in: Imran Khan is ethnically Pashtun so you’d think the PTI could pick up some seats here.
The one on the right is the Punjab. The blue is the urban north which is going to be the main battleground between Khan’s PTI and Nawaz’s PML-N. As you go south it gets more rural and the PPP start to come into it. You also start to get the big rural seats which will go whichever way the local landlord picks (most of them are currently PML-Q).
The sliver of yellow on the left is the FATA or Federally Administered Tribal Areas. They are governed by the Frontier Crimes Regulations of 1848 under which MPs are not elected but simply selected by tribal elders. Do not get me started on this. EDIT: apparently this is no longer the case. About bloody time.
The massive thing to the left is Baluchistan. As I said above it is a bit mad, its basically Pakistan’s wild west. Its fascinating but you’d need someone more knowledgeable than me to explain it.
The bottom is Sindh. The rural areas vote PPP, the urban areas split on ethnic lines: Sindhis vote PPP, Pathans vote ANP, Muhajirs vote MQM. This is where the elections get very violent. Karachi in particular used to have a huge PPP stronghold in Layari town and huge ANP strongholds around Banaras colony and Landhi. Cue running gun battles between PPP, ANP and MQM gunmen and hundreds upon hundreds dead. I think its fair to say the MQM won, and now the whole city votes MQM. At risk of throwing my credibility away completely, the Vice guide to Karachi is actually very good.
Do say: *Khyber Pa*khtun*khwa while clearing your throat at the asterisk marks
Don’t say: “North West Frontier Province” The NWFP has gone to the big maproom in the sky with Madras and Bombay.
How elections are fought
I’m a lazy man, so here is how I described it in my paper:
“Mohammad Waseem’s (1994) study of the 1993 elections describes the Pakistani electoral landscape primarily in terms of “big men” or brokers who operate large banks of “hundreds or thousands” of votes. In the crudest examples they gain control over this number of voters through bribes, murders and intimidation. In more sophisticated strategies, they gain control as a quid-pro-quo for providing services of access-to, and mediation-with, the state: patronage. They trade these vote banks with the political parties in exchange for, in some instances, money and more generally local public goods which further enhance their reputation and access. There is an economy of patronage in which public goods are the primary currency…. party identification is partly, and increasingly, based on ideology and service delivery; but the main driver is patronage, which in turn is linked to development spending.”
That still largely holds true. However it is a fairly rural model and it is clear that while parties try to do the same thing in the cities it doesn’t work as well. The vote banks are more fragmented and the voters more independent minded. This is why Pakistani politicians hate working urban constituencies. They know they have to (for show if nothing else), but they find it difficult, expensive, and hard work.
Moreover there are some parties that don’t primarily operate this way: “modern parties” if you will, that primarily try to win elections by using campaigning and the media to get their message across. The religious parties, for all their many other flaws, have done this for some time, as have the MQM. They have now been joined by the PTI.
However most parties mainstream aren’t that good at it. They lack “street power”. And so this is where the religious parties come in. Again I’m going to plagarise myself here. This is from an unpublished field report:
“Mainstream political parties feel they cannot motivate people in the cities as they lack the networks to do so. This is because while the networks associated with a particular candidate will normally suffice in a rural area, they will not run as deep, or be extensive enough, in urban areas. Ideological organisations, on the other hand (such as religious or ethnic political parties) concentrate their resources in the cities as a) this is the most efficient way to reach the most people, b) this is where the media, their most effective tool, has the most impact, and c) this is where universities are based (the ban on political parties organising at Universities means that Universities have become areas of strength for religious and other non-party-political ideological groups).
“So the cities are areas of relative weakness for the mainstream political parties and areas of relative strength for ideological groups without a formal role in mainstream politics. And the mainstream parties seem to have limited interest in challenging this. They make very limited attempts to mobilise in the cities, and they leave the demonstrations, postering, corner meetings, and other manifestations of modern politics almost entirely to these latter groups. But at the same time these latter groups, including the religious political parties, are not able to project power at a national level – both because they lack the necessary patronage and high level networks to win a national election and also because, all things considered, their message isn’t actually that popular
“And so it appears that informal, local level, agreements are reached between members of the former groups and the latter. In a piece for Dawn Umair Javed describes this exchange as “electoral support for a blind eye”. The religious parties lend the mainstream parties street power at election time and in return they get patronage. This manifests in the turning of a blind eye to illegality by the foot soldiers of the religious parties, and arguably by the religious parties themselves, and also arguably in the disproportionate influence religious parties have over policy.
“These deals seem to be done on a constituency-by-constituency or district-by-district level. So there are constituencies where the JI support the PPP and the JuD the PML-N, and there are constituencies where the reverse is true. Religious parties fielding candidates themselves does not seem to prejudice these arrangements, as even where they stand it seems they rarely make an attempt to win.”
Do say: Talk about the transgender candidates. Its really interesting.
Don’t say: Any of this stuff above. People’s eyes will glaze over.
Counting the vote
Polls are closing roundabout now and we’ll start to get media reports of who has won what in dribs and drabs. Formal results will be announced within 14 days. These will take the form of first-past-the-post constituency results to both the National Assembly and to the Provincial Assemblies of the four provinces. Only Muslims can vote but there is a separate election for non-Muslims to elect 10 minority seats. Its very hard to find anything out about this election but I understand it is done by dividing Pakistan up into 10 first-past-the-post electorates. Ahmedi Muslims are counted as non Muslims which they are very angry about.
EDIT: this has now changed and minorities can now vote and stand for election in the general seats. In addition minorities still have ten reserved seats which now work the same way as female reserved seats. You still have to declare your religion to vote though which many Ahmedi Muslims refuse to do because of the way Muslim is defined.
In the meantime candidates who have won more than one seat (this happens quite often) have 60 days to decide which seat they would like to keep and by-elections are then held in the ones they give up.
Within three days of the official result independent candidates have to either join a political party or pledge to remain independent. You see this happen quite a lot in seats dominated by feudal landlords. They will put up an independent candidate who will win and then join whichever party forms the Government.
About six days after official results are declared reserve seats for 60 women are allocated among the political parties in direct proportion to the number of seats the parties have already won.
Parties in Parliament then go about trying to agree on a Prime Minister and, almost as importantly, parties in the Provincial assemblies then go about trying to agree on a new Chief Minister for each province.
Finally the President of Pakistan will be elected in September by an electoral collage made up of Parliament, the Provincial assemblies, and the Senate (the Senate is indirectly elected by the Provincial assemblies – by Single Transferable vote eccentrically enough – half being elected every three years. We’re not due until 2015 so it will be this current Senate that helps pick the President).
Does winning the Presidency matter? Its hard to say. It used to be a symbolic role, then it became quite powerful, now it is fading and becoming more symbolic again – but it does in a large part depend on the personalities involved.
Do say: “The disenfranchisement of the Ahmedi community is a disgrace”.
Don’t say: “As is the disenfranchisement of the FATA, the Northern Areas, and minorities in general”. Its true but people don’t want to hear it. In fact do say it. It is true.
Who will win?
My guess? PML-N led minority coalition. PTI will get about 40 seats. But this is a much better prediction.
May 11, 2013 § 1 Comment
My summary of the Pakistani General Election is coming. But in the course of writing it I got wracked with liberal guilt about Orientalism and so had to write a lengthy aside. That totally ruined the flow of the piece so I’ve hived it off into a seperate piece. Guilt assuaged, guide not ruined. Here it is:
Edward Said wrote a brilliant and very important book once. It is however exceptionally long and boring. To be honest with you I only finished it because I was stuck in an airport for 36 hours with it. For this reason it is one of the most misunderstood and misquoted books of all time. Orientalism was a scathing critique of imperialist attitudes within academia, the othering by the west of the rest of the world, and the use of ethnocentric cliché. It did not, however, say:
- It is totally wrong for anyone to talk about, think about, or even visit any country apart from their own.
- Cultural anthropology is evil, and sociology and political science are only ok if you do it in a really boring way which means that you interact with your subject matter as little as possible.
- You can be as glib, othering, ethnocentric, and even downright racist about your subject matter as you like provided you quote the natives saying it about themselves.
But you wouldn’t know it to read some of the guff we’ve been subjected to since.
The problem is that Orientalism sent a generation of guilt wracked liberal lefty types madly spinning round in circles falling over themselves not to be orientalist. And now we are all scared of our own shadows. The result is some really weird conventions have cropped up. Firstly, because everyone loves a good shortcut, we still tend to use ethnocentric chiché – we just try to limit ourselves to one per article. Secondly we all feel the need to talk endlessly about Orientalism, as though name checking it will in some way appease it (ahem). Thirdly, and most tediously, we all try this incredibly grating jokesy self-deprecating style, the idea being that by being only semi-serious we can limit the offence (critics: please accept this own goal with my compliments).
Of course the rest of the world has largely ignored this small section of academia tying itself in knots over nothing. However somewhere along the line some people did pick up on the idea that when writing about places like Pakistan it is now important to sound authentic. I don’t need to write a bluffers’ guide to this because someone already has and it is brilliant. But here’s two extra tips:
1 – Speak Urdu
For historical reasons Urdu is the national language of Pakistan despite not being native to that geography. Even sixty years later nobody really speaks Urdu, most people speak a fused lect of Urdu, English, and various local languages. You can do this too – its just that for you the ratios will be a bit different: 1%-99%-0% say. Just drop “accha”, and “tik hai?” into your sentences at random points. “Accha” and “tik hai?” are great phrases from this point of view in that both can be added to any sentance at any point without substantively changing the meaning.
Even more crucially, the kh at the front of “Khan” and indeed almost any kh is not pronounced as kh in Urdu. It is the Urdu letter خ and it is pronounced as something in between the English letter x and the noise you make when you clear you throat. Pronounce Imran Khan this way and immediately gain +100 Pakistan points. Try to ignore the fact that this is the linguistic equivalent of putting on the “‘Allo ‘Allo” accent every time you say François Hollande.
2 – Tell an anecdote about a time you were in peril.
Preferably from Islamists.
I took this photo. These blokes are from an organisation called Jamaat-ud-Dawa which is the political wing of Lashkar-e-Taiba who were responsible for the Mumbai attacks. They are between me and my hotel and shortly after this photo was taken I was taken in to protective custody. This is probably the biggest amount of danger I have ever been in in Pakistan and to be honest with you I was perfectly safe.
Pakistan has violent extremists in the way the sea has sharks. The sea does have sharks but the sea is absolutely massive and most of it doesn’t have sharks. Moreover we have a fairly good idea where the majority of the sharks live and that still gives us a fair few billion cubic gallons of water which are more-or-less shark free. Even”shark infested” bits of the sea are reasonably safe provided you are a little bit sensible. Of course anyone can get eaten by a shark at any point if the sharks are hungry, or in a bad mood, but realistically it is probably safe to swim in most of the ocean.
To be honest I’m going to leave it there because I don’t find terrorism or extremism that interesting. It sells copy though, which is a shame because it gives people a warped idea of what Pakistan is about. I’d much rather tell my anecdote about the fake cop whose fake badge had a rabbit on it instead of a star, or the washing machine that tried to kill me, or the two servants that I used to take for walks, or the drunk TV guys who used to tell me highly improbable stories about their sexual exploits in Wolverhampton, or the time I accidentally opened a school, or the time I accidentally ended up on Pakistani TV, or the time a security guard yelled at me about Salma Hayek, or the time I played Swiss German card games in Lahore, or the time I went drink driving with a police chief, or the time I witnessed a goat sacrifice, or the time I accidentally walked to Afghanistan, or the time I got wasted with a 97 year old whose grandfather massacred half a British battalion, or the time I found a bunker that had “secret helicopter” in massive yellow writing on it, or the time I walked across this bridge:
May 3, 2013 § 25 Comments
In September of 1946, just days after the formal Japanese surrender, Noboru Hayama – a twenty year old inventor – hung a sign on the door of his home in the Tokyo suburbs bearing the single word “Riso-sha”: the Japanese word for “ideal”. Thus a company was born, and over the years Hayama’s genius would take it to global prominence. In 1954 he developed Japan’s first emulsion ink. In 1977 he invented a screen printing system which was small enough to fit in the home. It was so popular that at one stage a third of Japanese households owned one. In 1984 he invented the world’s first fully automated stencil duplicator: the Risograph 007 or RG. For small organisations mass duplication of low quality black-and-white leaflets in-house became cost effective for the first time. The machines were relatively small, meaning they could fit in an office or garage and, if necessary, be hidden: the “samizdat”, the underground network of newspapers and pamphlets which permeated the Soviet Union, and thrived after Glasnorst, made full use of this last feature to ramp up their operations during the late ‘80s.
In 1989 Riso launched the European version: the RC; the RA and GR series followed in 1993 and 1994. The cold process and lack of moving parts meant these machines were robust and easy to maintain – many are still working nearly twenty years later. The RN and RP series, which followed in 2000, massively improved print quality but were fussier, more temperamental, machines. At the same time the V series allowed two colours to be printed at the same time – allowing for much more sophisticated graphic design. Finally in 2004 the RZ series brought in phenomenal speeds and almost laserjet quality printing – but at a price of being so fiddly that I doubt many will show the resilience of the old RAs. Noboru Hayama, meanwhile, lived to the ripe old age of 87. He died of a heart attack last March.
Fact: most normal people don’t know what a Riso is. Most Liberal Democrats have a thorough understanding of how to maintain and repair an RA4200.
Stand back everybody. Avert your eyes. There will be shards. I am about to use a sledgehammer to crack a nut: politicians live in bubbles. Those bubbles cause them to have a distorted view of the world.
I imagine you are not reeling in shock. But this is one of those ideas which tends to be blithely accepted without any exploration of the consequences of the idea. So here is such an exploration. But first I am going to smash that nut, by giving the Liberal Democrats a good hard Othering. By talking about them using some of the language and techniques of anthropology, as one would a long lost tribe, I’m hoping to show just how odd the Liberal Democrats are, and by extension just how odd the lived experience of politics in the UK really is. And yes, I am aware that this is a self-indulgent piece – that is somewhat the point. Indeed if anyone publishes a more self-indulgent piece this year I will be sorely disappointed. I should also point out that I am not a trained anthropologist, although I have been known to dabble, and this is largely a bit of fun – if you are reading a blog for peer-reviewed, citable, academia then you should seek help. Stick around though, I quote Napoleon later.
All the standard anthropological caveats apply. I am writing about the Lib Dems because that is what I know, but it is likely that much of what follows will also apply to the other major parties (minor parties are weird). I also don’t know how different things are in other countries, but this piece from Australia, suggests not very. I always thought American elections were very very different until I read the description of the fridge on page 21 of Primary Colours, and realised they were exactly the same. To what extent that is the case would require further research to establish. Fund me.
The caste system
The Liberal Democrats operate a rigid caste system. The principle major castes are: MP, Councillor, Researcher, Campaigner, Caseworker and Volunteer. These can be further grouped into two caste groupings: the professionals (Researcher, Campaigner, and Caseworker) and the amateurs (MP, Councillor, and Volunteer). The professionals view the amateurs with derision tinged with suspicion.
Caste is largely a matter of social perception and one can usually successfully transfer caste allegiance by hanging around with people from a different caste for a bit. However, in the meantime, you will be viewed through the prism of your caste, and it will be a major factor in determining the opportunities available to you.
Volunteers occupy a position in the Liberal Democrats not unlike that of the “Hijira”, or eunuchs, of South Asia. On the one hand they are considered the lowest of the low: stupid, surly, and fit only for the most basic manual work. On the other they possess a certain sort of spiritual power which is coveted and must be appeased at all times. Thus contempt is concealed, and even the mightiest minister in the land must make a show of doing the occasional paper round to demonstrate fealty. There is a conceit that all Liberal Democrats start off as volunteers. It isn’t true, but those that didn’t fake it as best they can.
Councillors are essentially paid volunteers. We also let them run municipal services. Let’s think about that for a moment: imagining you were conducting a Rawlsian experiment to establish the ideal form of Government. You might come to the conclusion that a system of justice is vital to contain the worst excesses of rational self-interest. You might come to the conclusion that some sort of basic social safety net is required to maximize the minimum potential regret or loss of wellbeing. You would be highly unlikely to determine that it would probably be best if we put the person who delivers the most newspapers in charge of town planning.
The problem is that the role of councillor falls between two stools: on the one hand they deal with very important issues, on the other hand (as local devolution in the UK is half-hearted at best) they often have limited control of those issues. On the one hand the money (c.£10k for a borough councillor) is pretty good for a job with virtually no requirements other than that you be liked by your local party, on the other hand the money isn’t really good enough to do a proper job. And so it tends to be more of a chore than an honour. It’s a bit like being an MP (see below) but with no up-side.
MPs (in which I include all the various mutations: MEPs, AMs, GLAMs etc…) are of course the only type of politician that matter to the wider world. It is therefore interesting to see how irrelevant and peripheral to proceedings they often seem to be. Political machines exist to serve MPs, but much as most cooks feel the whole process of cooking would be a damn sight easier if it wasn’t for the bloody customers, so most people in politics seemingly would rather MPs were not involved at all. In fact at some point I want to write a sitcom set in an MP’s office, where the MP dies and nobody notices. Perhaps it is because there aren’t very many of them, and because they spend most of their time in Westminster (nothing that happens in Westminster matters to anyone except other people who work in Westminster – unless it gets on the telly).
If you want to be an MP it helps to be rich, charismatic, likeable, hard-working, lucky, good with the media, have a good back story, have a solid track record with the party, and good at campaigning. But you don’t need to be any of these things. The only thing you absolutely need is ridiculous, and I mean absolutely ridiculous, levels of self-belief. This is because no rational human being would ever want to do it. If you want to be an MP you must give up all semblance of a normal life for years, often decades, at a time. You must be unemployed, or have a very patient employer and a meaningless job, for about a year before the election. You must surrender all meaningful contact with friends and family. In the months before an election you must spend around twenty hours a day shaking hands, smiling, and making token purchases. And if you are not driven completely insane by this you also have to come to terms with the fact that there is a very very good chance that you are going to lose, that it will all have been for nothing, and that you have to wait four more years and then have another go – only it will be harder the next time because now you are tagged as a loser. If you finally ever make it to Parliament, you will realise the influence you wield is minimal, and considerably less than that you would have if you had devoted that amount of energy and dedication in almost any other direction.
No sane human being would do this. And yet from among the insane we have to choose the leadership of the nation. They tend to be those that are so utterly captured by the political process that they cannot imagine a life outside of politics, and those who genuinely believe that one day they will be Prime Minister. The scary thing is that at any given time one of them is correct.
Those then are the amateur castes. The professional castes are much more interesting. While the amateur castes are fairly strictly hierarchical, the professionals have a cyclical hierarchy much like the Varnas of India. The Brahmins are the researchers, the most spiritually pure. The Kshatriyas are the campaigners, who wield absolute power in times of war. The Vaishyas are the caseworkers. They do all the actual work, and so wield economic power.
Researchers work in Parliament which means they get to drink subsidised beer but have to wear suits to work. They all watch the West Wing and the Thick of It and tell their friends that their lives are like that. If their MP is a) influential and b) trusts them, then they are not entirely incorrect – but they work for the Liberal Democrats so that never happens. “Research” is an archaic word meaning “to google” and so most researchers don’t really do much research: they are part PA, part Press Officer, and part Events Organiser. A large part of each researcher’s day is spent asking “what’s our policy on x”? Another large part of each researcher’s day is spent making up a policy on y (another researcher having asked you) based upon something you remember your MP having said about it in 2003. Researchers work around 60 hours a week, this is in part so they can look suitably exhausted when networking over a post work pint. Being peppy is bad form.
Campaigners have a strict uniform which consists of looking as scruffy as possible. In part this is to signify their indispensability (much as the U boat commanders of the Kriegsmarine did); in part this is because they spend half their life fixing broken printers. Campaigners are responsible for the electoral success of the party and, as such, look down upon anyone (such as researchers and candidates) who aren’t. Campaigners also have nothing to do with policy and, as such, are looked down upon by anyone (such as researchers and candidates) who do. About half a campaigner’s job is logistical management – the basic strategy being to batter your electoral opponent into submission by sheer volume of literature. Thus the best campaigners are those that do not make the better the enemy of the good, and always prioritise quantity over quantity. The other half of a campaigner’s job is graphic design. For this reason most campaigners are terrible graphic designers. Campaigners work around 90 hours a week and there is a machismo culture around who can do the longest hours. Unsurprisingly Campaigners live on a diet of nicotine, alcohol, coffee, and anything with lots of sugar in it. Perhaps surprisingly Campaigners have not yet discovered crystal meth.
Caseworkers are the closest approximation politicians have to real human beings. Obviously everybody looks down on them for not being “political”. Caseworkers tend to work 9-5 and have friends outside of politics. They also deal with real problems that happen in the real world. Unsurprisingly therefore caseworkers tend to be the most diverse and broadly representative political caste: there are caseworkers of all ages, races, genders and shudder classes. It always amuses me that party’s plans to increase diversity seem to consist, not of turning politics into something a sane human being might want to do, but in convincing working-class BME women that they too should make the kind of mad irrational ego-driven choices that white twentysomething childless middle-class men do.
Liberal Democrats participate in tribal bonding rituals known as conferences. As with most such kinship occasions, complete with ritual chanting, conferences used to have a function, but that function has now been subsumed into symbolism designed to strengthen a sense of community, and to more clearly divide into Same and Other. As with most such kinship occasions, alcohol and sexual promiscuity are used to strengthen the bonds.
Liberal Democrats also have formative rituals, or initiation ceremonies, known as “by elections” to establish identification with the group. The by election ritual is much like the circumcision ritual of the Xhosa tribe:
“During the time of the initiation, the young men live in special huts, secluded from the rest of the tribe and especially from any females. They undergo training and endurance tests, which require great discipline. All aspects of the initiation are kept very secret.”
Ceremony and hierarchy
Liberal Democrats use ceremonies to delineate hierarchy. Perhaps the most involved of this is referred to as “leafleting”. The leafleting will be led by the campaigner who will have put on their scruffiest outfit for the occasion. The campaigner will hold court in an office, carpark, or abandoned warehouse. Members of the other castes will come and demonstrate fealty by taking bundles of leaflets from them and distributing them among the townsfolk. In the case of the researcher this fealty will be guarded, often accompanied by a pointed remark about the spelling in the leaflet – a sign that the higher caste the campaigner enjoys at this moment is temporal, and it will all change when Parliament is back in session. In the case of the MP the statement is tokenistic, and the bundle of leaflets small, to indicate that – while the MP must participate in the ritual to validate their supposed volunteer roots – they do actually have more important things to do. The volunteers and the councillors tend to be the most devout believers in the ritual, and will quiz the campaigner on every aspect of the leaflet’s contents. This is also part of the ritual, as is the campaigner patiently pretending to listen whilst ignoring everything that is said. The campaigner wrote the leaflet at 4am while tweaking and is fully aware that it contains seven spelling mistakes and a potentially serious libel issue in the third article. It also has GY!BE inserted into the legal smallprint as part of a bet with the Labour agent. The campaigner knows that none of this matters as the vast majority of residents will only look at the leaflet for an average of three seconds between doorstep and bin, and so the headline is literally the only thing that matters. But the campaigner also knows that the good will of the councillors and volunteers, and their belief in the ritual, is required to deliver that headline.
Some things have to be experienced before they can be truly understood. The Lib Dems used to have a computer programme called EARS.
The foundation myth of the modern Liberal Democrats is Brent East. Broadly speaking this myth is a Titanomachy and the story is pretty cool. There are other similar campfire stories Liberal Democrats tell each other, and this is a common feature of most competitive industries. It serves to delineate kin (there are two types of people in the world: those for whom the phrase Littleborough and Saddleworth holds no meaning whatsoever, and Liberal Democrats), to delineate seniority (“you weren’t there man, you weren’t there”) and to give youngsters something to aspire to. This is normal. What is also normal is the stultifying effect this has on innovation. However as an organisation which has an overdependence on volunteers, and thus on war stories, it is possible that political parties are especially prone to gerontocracy and stagnation. This may explain why political parties so rarely innovate: one could safely and securely make donations online in 1994, but no political party attempted it in a coordinated way until the Obama 2008 campaign.
This has had a particular effect on the Liberal Democrats because the Liberal Democrats shouldn’t be. Duverger’s law states that First Past the Post nations should only have two major parties. The only counterexamples in the modern era are highly-federal nations (such as Canada, India, Pakistan, the Philippines) which have only two main parties in any given area but consequentially more than that nationally; and the UK. The Lib Dems are a historical anomaly, and the only reason they have survived is because, back in the day, the Lib Dems were seriously innovative. In some ways the 1980s Lib Dems were decades ahead of their time. The problem is that the 1980s were decades ago, and the Lib Dems are still campaigning much as they did back then. As Napoleon said:
“One must change one’s tactics every 10 years if one wishes to maintain one’s superiority, A man has his day in war as in other things, I myself shall be good for it another 6 years after which even I shall have to stop.”
Of course nobody else has innovated either, but they don’t have to because they are not historical anomalies. A venture capitalist once explained the situation to me like this:
“Seventeen years ago the Lib Dems were really smug about the fact that they were twenty years ahead of everybody else. Now they are just as smug about the fact that they are three years ahead of everybody else. When that happens in my line of work people get fired.”
Anyway that has been something of a digression. But I got to make a graph, quote the French, and say “a venture capitalist once explained the situation to me” so I’m happy.
Symbolism and language
Do you know what a Blue Letter is? Do you think Focus is a noun? What does the term Shuttleworth mean to you? Have you met Erlend? The Liberal Democrats have their own language.
Back to the point
Politics feels very very different when you are part of it. Politics should be simply a matter of making decisions about public policy but it can’t be because human beings are not built that way. Thus politics becomes a way of life, and once it is a lifestyle there is a disconnect between those who live the life and those who don’t. Politics becomes your identity, and your political party becomes your tribe.
And herein lies one of the biggest problems in politics. Because choosing between political parties should be a straightforward matter of selecting the policy platform that most closely aligns with your own. But it isn’t; it’s about group identity. And to a certain extent it has to be; because this is a representative democracy not a direct democracy, and we are picking people we trust to make decisions down the line. That is why it still matters that the Tories destroyed the social contract, and that Labour committed war crimes, and that the Lib Dems lied about tuition fees: because the people that did those things are still in charge, and their past behaviour is the best guide we have to their future actions. But we take it too far, and that is why the British are bad at coalition governments. We are too tribal, and we only see politics in terms of tribes, not policies, and so negotiating around a common platform is an exercise in futility. Far worse though is that the political parties themselves have this attitude. While most coalitions around the world understand that coalition government is a mixture of compromise, bluster, grandstanding, bluffing, red lines, and – occasionally – withdrawing, the British treat suggesting that one might actually walk away from a coalition at some point as in some way unsportsmanlike. And so the British don’t have true coalition government so much as a series of informal mergers. The tribalism of British politics meant that a coalition Government was always going to be a tough sell to the British public; what is only now becoming apparent is that the tribalism of British politics means that coalition governments in the UK are not true fluid, dynamic, coalitions such as those enjoyed by the rest of the world.
By the way, that last paragraph had around 90% of its sentences starting with prepositions: take that grammar Nazis.
A further difficulty then is that one cannot make political decisions for solely political reasons. What most, but not all, models of political behaviour miss is the role of interpersonal relationships in political decision making, and in particular the role of group loyalty. This is exacerbated by the fact most people in political parties never ever talk about politics: it seems somehow self-indulgent and redundant. I have managed campaigns for candidates at very high levels where I can honestly tell you I haven’t the faintest clue what my candidate’s political beliefs were. Because once they are playing for your team it doesn’t matter, your role is to help them win. This can be seen most clearly when it comes to defections. When you defect from a political party you do not merely determine that one group of political actors have a set of beliefs and positions that more closely match your own (something which could happen to the inquisitive mind several times in a week), instead you make a conscious decision to abandon a lifestyle, to sever friendships (maybe not entirely, but to significantly alter the nature of the friendship), and to step outside of the kinship group that you have been up until this point entirely immersed in. Small wonder then that the majority of defectors are either people of real principle juggling with terrible weights on their conscience, or else really quite odd people. Furthermore much like Yes Minister’s hypothetical invading Russians, political parties tend to betray you via a thousand tiny cuts, they are rarely gracious enough to provide one with a clear cut “point of departure”. Defection is not a decision one takes lightly.
And herein lies the second problem with political kinship. People who are part of political parties are too loyal. Politics is fairly thankless; the material rewards are – comparing like for like – shit, and it is frankly quicker and easier to accumulate power outside of formal political processes. One therefore shouldn’t really do it for any other reason than ideology. But the kinship of politics becomes a trap, and so politicians do what every person in every walk of life does when they find themselves in this situation: they tell themselves little lies to make it all ok. This is why Liberal Democrats now send each other painfully thin infographics which crow over their “achievements”, and pretend that they had ever heard of the “pupil premium”. They have become, in the words of my hilarious pun title, the Argonauts of the incredibly specific. And by being too loyal, they are too forgiving of the coalition, just as by being too tribal others are too irrational about the coalition. And all of us are trapped by a discourse which sees these things as mattering, whereas actually politics was never this simple, and the political party one identifies with is almost the least important of the many ways one can influence political and, possibly more importantly civil, society.
So I suppose this is my letter of resignation from the Liberal Democrats. It is not really. I’ve read a fair few letters of resignation from Lib Dems over the last few years and artistically they have been disappointing: many seem somewhat disingenuous – the potter gasping with astonishment that his idol, who he had been working on for some time, does indeed have feet of clay. Many have been sad and quite moving, particularly when I’ve known the person and how hard it must have been for them to write. But none have been surprising and all have brought in to the idea that one is either a Lib Dem or one isn’t. I’d like political identities to be fuzzier than that – the way political views are. As you might have guessed from the last paragraph I’m something of a Gramscian, and I think the debate around the ideas is far more important than the actual voting and the winning elections. I’d far rather have Nick Clegg as Prime Minister if we could be transported into a progressive socially liberal cultural hegemon, than have Prime Minister Owen Jones in the current cultural climate. Because Politicians don’t have anywhere near as much agency as we assume.
So I might vote Lib Dem and I might not (probably not if it means voting for the coalition) but I reserve the right to pick and choose as I see fit. I probably won’t work for them again, but that is more a lifestyle choice. Because it shouldn’t matter: your party is not your football team.
PS Admittedly I did once get drunk and send an email which was a kind-of letter of resignation – but that scarcely counts.
Fred Carver was a participant observer of the Liberal Democrats for six years. He was a councillor in Camden for a bit and ran some elections, mostly in north London.
May 3, 2013 § 1 Comment
It’s been nearly two years I know. Essentially the combination of a very demanding job, an attempt (still ongoing) to write a PhD thesis and my partner’s illness becoming more severe (she’s ok, thanks for asking) means I haven’t had time to carry on writing the country profiles.
But I still have this blog and so I’m going to use it. I’m just about to put up a fairly self indulgent piece I’ve been working on – on and off – for about a year. And if you make your way through that, next week I’m going to put up a bluffer’s guide to the Pakistani general election. Enjoy!
November 15, 2011 § 6 Comments
It’s very easy to have a soft spot for Imran Khan; particularly if you’re British and know nothing about the subject. He invented reverse swing. He batted so stoically. He looked good in whites. He saved us the embarrassment of winning a world cup with Derek Pringle in the squad (and didn’t even gloat about it afterwards). He married the daughter of Britain’s favourite fascist*. He looks good in a suit. And apparently he’s some sort of liberal or something? Probably.
In many ways Khan is indicative of the overly simplistic attitude the west has to the politics of places they don’t like to visit. Find a solution (and only one) to all the nation’s problems in the form of a man who looks good in a suit, speaks good English, was educated in the west (the more Oxbridge, and therefore the posher and more out of touch, the better) and uses some correct buzzwords; then invest all your hope and energy in them. History is littered with vile little tin pot dictators who seemed very personable at mixers in Claridges. History has an even greater supply of complete non entities the public of country x didn’t even look at twice but who the west championed for years as the next big thing. Mustafa Barghouti’s 156,227 votes in the 2005 Palestinian Presidential election came at a price of something like $20 per vote of western wishful thinking.
Khan may be symptomatic of a general trend but there is not yet any evidence that he has any dictatorial tendencies. However, in the form of 15 years of electoral humiliation, there is every evidence that he was – until recently – an irrelevance and a joke. Yet as of last Wednesday (ish) suddenly the whole world is ringing with the news of the “incredible surge in PTI popularity“. But is it based upon anything other than western liberal wishful thinking and the self-affirming, self-fulfilling positive feedback cycle of all journalistic hype, “speculation mounts that” style stories?
To answer that I’d suggest we look at the opinion polls – except that there haven’t been any since July. Failing that I suggest that we look at recent election results – except that there haven’t been any for ages. Failing that I suggest that we look for any empirical evidence whatsoever to substantiate the claim – there was a rally in Lahore to which 70,000 attended which is quite impressive. Except that at a push I think I could get 70,000 to a rally in Lahore – Lahore has a population of nine million and there isn’t much to do in the evenings.
Ok, it’s not entirely media speculation. The substantive points are that there have been a number of high profile defections to the PTI within a couple of days of each other. There are a number of different types of defections going on here:
Firstly some impressive technocrats have joined; important but without political significance, albeit their defections were timed to perfection.
Secondly a lot of the PML-Q, PML-F etc… are lining up to join the PTI; this is more important in that it could give the PTI something it sorely lacks: numbers in Parliament. However it’s also not that surprising, the PML-Q are a disparate collection of vested interest groups – a King’s party whose King has died, they were always going to fragment and wash up on the shores of the party in whose direction the wind was blowing.
Thirdly, some genuinely heavy hitters from the PPP have joined the PTI. I’m not going to sniff at that, except to say that perhaps embittered former heavy hitters would be a better term. Even so it is impressive except in that in Pakistan this kind of thing happens all the time. A long long time ago Aftab Ahmad Sherpao wasn’t a joke.
Finally, and in conjunction presumably with the wooing of the PML-Q, we hear that several prominent landlords – including the Legharies of DG Khan – are thinking of joining. Given the political power of the Legharies that really isn’t to be sniffed at.
So what we actually have is a number of vested interest groups, feudal landlords and usual suspects flocking to a banner: partly – I imagine – because their rivals support Khan’s rivals and partly because they’ve made a self-fulfilling judgement that Khan and the PTI are going somewhere. What has actually changed is that Khan is willing to accept these people. Khan was once Mr Clean and Mr Pure, not to be sullied by the feudalism and patronage game the others all play. The real story of the last few days is that Khan has shown himself to be just another Pakistani politician.
I think that’s a mistake – he could bite hard into the main parties but he’s surrendered the one thing that made him unique to enter a game he cannot possibly win. He might get a few PML-Q dropouts and the odd landlord whose burnt so many bridges with both the PPP and the PML that they have nowhere else to go, but there is no way he can win a patronage game against the big two – they just have access to far more graft. I’m not alone.
But lets suppose he does win. When I was younger and more pretentious I used to tell people my favourite film was Novecento when it was actually Con Air. Novecento is however still a cracking film. Because I am still quite pretentious I’m now going to reinterpret it as a biopic of Imran Khan and Javed Miandad. Bear with me, I realise I’m pitching to a very narrow venn here.
Robert de Niro is Imran Khan: rich, handsome, he is given the world on a plate but he is determined to do good. Gérard Depardieu is Javed Miandad: poor and spectacularly grumpy but very talented he just wants to get his job done. They grow up together, sometimes they are best friends, sometimes they are worst enemies, always there is tension. Both are swept up in the arc of history, it is Italy in the 1930s, one cannot get anything done without joining the fascists. A nutter tries to draw attention to the injustice of society by chopping off his own ear (that would be Afridi).
We are now just at the beginning of act 2. The evil Donald Sutherland (Mazhar Majeed?) and his grotesque lover (i’m going to say Ijaz Butt) have just raped and murdered a poor innocent child (Mohammed Amir) and headbutted a cat to death (err… Mohammed Asif?). Now Khan/de Niro must make a choice – become just another feudal landlord, join in with the prevailing mood of the time, join the fascists and hope in so doing to be able to protect the people living on his land, or take to the hills with Depardieu in the knowledge that he will not see power for many a year.
de Niro does what Khan seems about to do and becomes just another feudal landlord. But inevitably rather than changing the system, the system changes him and he becomes just another fascist. When the war ends Depardieu/Miandad puts him on trial; he insists he has done nothing wrong; on one level this is not disputed, but the villagers point out to him that if you know that the system is going to change you, if you know the system is going to make you one of them, then you shouldn’t participate in the system. The film ends with Depardieu and de Niro doing what Khan and Miandad will inevitably do: living out their dotage arguing and tussling and insisting they were right about things they fought about 60 years ago, loving every minute of being angry with each other.
I appreciate those last few paragraphs were like jazz – I enjoyed them more than you did. – but the main point is valid. Even if Khan wins by becoming just another Pakistani politician he won’t change anything. He can’t if that is how he wins. Pakistan’s fundamental problems: patronage, graft, feudalism, the stratification of society, bonded labour, the total lack of social mobility, the deliberate failure to educate the poor, and the medieval attitudes to women that come from medieval feudal overlords, cannot be solved by co-opting and buying up those same overlords, those same feudals, and creating more of those same patronage networks.
Disclaimer: my Pakistani politics may be a bit rusty – I am just easing back into it. If I’ve got anything wrong I would really genuinely like to hear about it.
August 11, 2011 § 5 Comments
A rare foray into UK politics for me and a rare foray into opinion. I promise not to make a habit of it but it’s not every day your city catches fire:
One of the best pieces of television I have ever seen was Adam Curtis’s segment for Newswipe on the rise of Oh Dearism. He returns to similar ground in his blog post Goodies and baddies – which has to count as one of the greatest blog postings of all time. Adam Curtis is such a fantastic summator it seems wrong to summarise him and further, but here I go:
Oh Dearism is the phenomenon whereby, faced on the one hand with an increasingly complex world with political movements and consequences increasingly escaping categorisation and definition, and on the other hand a news media narrative and reductive reporting style which insists upon boiling down explanations, stripping out nuance, and turning news into easily understandable bite-sized news stories, we increasingly give up looking for explanation and merely observe the world as a succession of bad things happening for no real reason, to which we say “oh dear”.
I thought about Oh Dearism as I listened to both the government and most of my acquaintances respond to the recent spate of riots. Typical comments included, ” Most people care deeply about their neighbours and community. The acts last night were perpetrated by a tiny minority with no respect for others.” “What makes me most angry is how much this is going to hurt decent people who work very hard for a modest income” “I’m clear that they are in no way representative of the vast majority of young people in our country who despise them, frankly, as much as the rest of us do.”
Now I know this bit is going to be missed by people who want to be annoyed by this post but I’m going to say it anyway: I don’t disagree. In fact I agree completely.
That’s the thing about Oh Dearism: Oh Dearism isn’t wrong. Oh Dearism is far too trite, too irrelevant, too boring, to be wrong. And indulged in by friends and colleagues Oh Dearism is merely mildly irritating.
But what worries me is that this government doesn’t seem to be interested in engaging with the problem beyond indulging in Oh Dearism. And that is dangerous.
Here is George HW Bush engaging in some classic Oh Dearism after the second night of the LA race riots:
”[this is] purely criminal, What we saw last night and the night before in LA is not about civil rights. It’s not a message of protest. It’s been the brutality of a mob, pure and simple.”
Dan Quale went on to say that the riots had nothing to do with the Rodney King verdict – and so they went on for another week and established areas of the USA as no-go zones for the police to this day. Now here is Clegg after the first night of our riots:
“The damage from riots seen last night has nothing to do with the death of Mr Duggan; that is being investigated. The violence we saw was needless and opportunistic, where shopkeepers lost shops and families lost homes. The violence,looting and theft is utterly condemned and has only caused a sense of insecurity felt in the community”
Swap LA for Tottenham; swap Duggan for King …… but that too is a trite analysis, and that is not my point – my point is in both cases the Oh Dearism response didn’t work, not because it was incorrect but because it was irrelevant and because it didn’t even begin to touch upon the problem.
Clearly many of those involved in the riots were opportunists and thieves. Clearly the remainder used utterly illegitimate and unacceptable means to address what may or may not be legitimate grievances. But all that is noise, all that is irrelevance. What has happened is that a large number of people who mostly operated within the law have decided to mostly operate outside the law. In other words the social contract between the state and a large numbers of poor young individuals has been broken.
I am not making the argument (although some will) that the state broke the social contract when they shot Mark Duggan. It seems to me more likely that the social contract has been broken for some time*, and the police briefly losing control during the Duggan protest merely provided the opportunity for this lack of a social contract to become evident. But all these matters are entirely irrelevant. This is just yet more noise, yet more Oh Dear. All that matters is how that contract can be rebuilt. The state cannot, must not, just shrug its shoulders and say, “the social contract has been broken, Oh Dear”
To borrow and develop something a friend of mine said, if you kick a dog for long enough the dog will bite someone and it probably won’t be the person who kicked it. Saying that the dog is a bad dog, or that you feel sorry for the person who got bitten, doesn’t help the victim or make the dog feel bad. It is just a bit trite.
In the absence of an attempt to rebuild the social contract it seems the state is intent to just crush the riots through sheer brute force. Here’s Cameron again,
“Whatever resources the police need they will get, whatever tactics police feel they need to employ, they will have legal backing to do so. We will do whatever is necessary to restore law and order on to our streets. Every contingency is being looked at, nothing is off the table.”
Apart from the fact that these words should send a shiver down the spine of any liberal, indeed any right thinking person, this is a recipe for disaster. In Paris when they tried to crush the riots through brute force, they lasted for a month. But even if one were to succeed, as the police did last night, all we have done is buy ourselves some time – not a solution.
A considerable number of people are angry, are poor, are disillusioned, disaffected, and disenfranchised, have completely lost all trust in and respect for the police. As long as this remains the case these riots will happen again, and again – and even if it is many years until the next riot we will all be quivering under Damocles’ blade until a new social contract has been developed, and accepted, by the disaffected young people of Britain’s inner cities. And everything else is just another way of saying Oh Dear.
*For what it is worth I don’t actually think the state is entirely to blame for the collapse of the social contract but it is the state’s job to fix it. To quote my favourite line in The Fall of the Roman Empire, “When a teacher teaches a pupil the same lesson, the same way, a hundred times and still they do not learn then there is either something wrong with the teacher or there is something wrong with the lesson.”