Dr. Tariq Rahman

The Social Conditions of Dissent

 

            When Professor Noam Chomsky delivered his lectures in Pakistan they were very well-received. Even members of the higher bureaucracy and business lauded the lectures though if an academic and intellectual of one of Pakistan’s onw universities had expressed radical opinions or criticized Pakistan’s policies while Pakistan was at war, they would have asked for his or her head (remember what happened to Najam Sethi?). That is what has prompted me to write this article though, because of other subjects taking precedence, the article is somewhat belated. However, its timing does not matter since it is on a timeless subject---the social, economic, cultural and other conditions which facilitate the expression of dissident views.

            We know that some writers, notably Foqia Sadiq Khan from the Sustainable Development Policy Institute of Islamabad, did point out that one thing we ought to learn from Chomsky is to have the courage to be critical of things we consider wrong in Pakistan. The point is well taken. We know that Pakistani intellectuals have not made as great a mark in intellectual radical circles as people like Noam Chomsky and Edward Said. However, the question is why not? Is it that we are not courageous enough to begin with or is it something else? Let me try to answer these question. First, it goes without saying that the expression of radical opinions; opinions dissenting from the consensus arrived at in a society; or opinions not favoured by the powerful sections of a society does require courage. However, the number of people with this kind of courage is probably the same everywhere in the world. It is also probably the same in both the sexes. Why we do not see people expressing dissident opinions to the same degree everywhere is because of other reasons. We will look into these reasons by and by. First, let us look at the phenomenon of dissent itself.

 

            It we look at human societies in the past one finds that they lived in perpetual fear of being attacked, enslaved, driven out of homes and dominated. Their strength was in solidarity, cohesion, a spirit of agreement and fellow feeling (what the military calls esprit de corps). They tied themselves to each other by shared bonds (Ibn Khaldun called it asabiya) which helped focus all the love on the in-group and all the hatred on the out-group. Thus, those who did not share the world view of the community were regarded as fifth columnists. Indeed, they were potentially traitors. Thus, dissent was condemned either in the name of the class (biradri) or religion (as heresy). Tolerance was never a virtue in history. It was a virtue which weaker communities espoused to ensure their own survival.

 

            The growth of civilization is synonymous with the growth of sympathy. The ultimate ideals of humanitarianism, equality, fraternity, tolerance for others etc are the outcome of kindness or sympathy. Exceptionally kindhearted people, generally revered as saints in the medieval ages, always preached and practised such values but the society in general was indifferent to them. A revolution occurred as humanitarian impulses triumphed and were enshrined in the constitutions of countries during the eighteenth century and later. Democracy made tolerance not just a mystical ideal but a necessity.  Now, after nearly two hundred years of freedom and tolerance, Europeans and Americans are not apprehensive of being jailed, tortured or killed for expressing dissident opinions.

 

            Pakistan’s culture is authoritarian. There is male-dominance; class-dominance; and the dominance of the modern over the pre-modern in many spheres of life. The voice of the dominated is suppressed by cultural practices to begin with. Because of male-dominance most women, especially rural women, simply cannot make themselves heard. They may be brave but it is impossible for them to challenge the dominance of the husband, his family, their own parents and the norms of inheritance which deprive them of their will and their rights even when allowed by both the law-of the land and the religion. As there is class-dominance, the millions of peasants, menial employees and people in powerless roles in life remain unheard. They simply do not have the means to resist or make their voices heard. So, whatever courage they have does not help them express dissident opinions even if they have them. Above all, the state and its machinery, shaped by modern forces, dominates the pre-modern, rural world which is seen as ‘backward’ and contemptible. The dress of the modern, urban elite; its languages (English and Urdu); its manners---all dominate the indigenous, pre-modern world in a hegemonistic manner which makes it difficult for anybody to challenge these dominant assumptions. Only about forty years ago even the bravest man would have quailed at the prospect of entering a club or an army officer’s mess in the indigenous shalwar-qameez (I say ‘men’ advisedly because women kept using the shalwar-qameez anyway).

 

            In short, in an authoritarian and hierarchical culture like ours it requires more courage to express radical and dissident views than it does in latitudinarian, democratic cultures. After all, if you are told since childhood that children are to be seen but not to be heard, it requires more courage to say all the wrong things as a grownup than if you were given a patient hearing.

 

            Pakistan has been under military rule for most of its existence but not all these periods were equally repressive. Indeed, some civilian, so-called ‘democratic’ prime ministers were even more repressive than some of the generals. Still, the system we have had has generally discouraged dissent. For most of our history we have had actual censorship on the print media. The state T.V and radio do not allow radicals to present their opinions anyway. Most importantly, Pakistani intellectuals do a lot of self-censorship. They know for certain that there are taboo areas and ‘off limits’ subjects and even if they do write about them the editors will not publish their views. It is within these constraints that they write. Because of this if some of them still express dissident views then they are people whose courage and commitment must be far greater than that of their counterparts in the West who do the same. We know, of course, that such people exist. As examples. I have many names of living people in my mind but comparisons can be invidious so I will refer only to those who are no longer with us. Among these are The Outlook Editorials of I.H. Burney (OUP, 1990); Pakistan: The Barren Years: The Viewpoint Editorials and Columns of Mazhar Ali Khan (OUP, 1998) and A Profile in Courage: The Newsline Editorials of Razia Bhatti (OUP 2001). Razia’s August 1994 is relevant just now. It reports a massive military buildup on the borders and says: ‘the covert war waged by the intelligence agencies of the two countries, exploiting tensions and divisions on each other’s territory, is exacting its toll in human and material terms’. Such words are not written by people with even the ordinary amount of courage. In America or England our Burneys, Mazhar Ali Khan and Razia Bhattis could have been Chomskys---or could they?

            They could if they had found access to the media. Western media dominates the world so their establishment views as well as dissenting views become global commodities. Our media is weak and insular so we remain confined to our shores. It is not a difference in courage but difference in power which makes one known; which makes ones’ face an icon of the times; which makes one a legend. One wonders how many poor women must have braved their husband’s beatings in order to save their children from abuse. This is courage of a very high order but it is courage without either individual or institutional power. So it never becomes known and she dies obscure. In short, even dissent becomes known if it comes from the powerful; even dissent takes advantage of the same global channels of communication which the powerful set up in their own interest; even dissent, irony of all ironies, counts when it comes from members of already powerful communities. It does not count---indeed it is not noticed nor does it often become known---if it comes from the really powerless; poor women, children, illiterate peasants, lowly wage-earners, third world petty intellectuals etc.

 

            In short, beyond courage itself one needs several other factors to become known for dissent. Among these are the social, cultural, economic, political and legal facilitators of dissent. If one’s culture is tolerant, rich, democratic and rule of law oriented it is that much easier to express dissident views. If it is not, it is that much more difficult. Moreover, if one comes from a marginalized and less powerful community, group or country then it is more difficult for one to express dissent and become known for it. In a nutshell then, Pakistan has as many Chomskys as the United States has. Our misforture is that we make it much more difficult for them than the U.S does to become known. One measure of our institutional and cultural civilizational progress will be making it easier to express dissident opinions. A free press, uninterrupted peace, economic prosperity, strong civil society and excellent myth-makers (journalists, media personnel, academics, artists etc) are some the essential requirements for encouraging the courageous to speak up.

 

Dr. Tariq Rahman