http://www.mosharrafzaidi.com/2010/03/02/principles-of-policy-part-ii/
http://www.thenews.com.pk/daily_detail.asp?id=226773

Tuesday, March 02, 2010
by Mosharraf Zaidi

The extent to which the Pakistan that we know conforms to the Pakistan that we were supposed to know (according to the framers of the Constitution) can be gauged from the Constitution’s own ten “Principles of policy”. The first six of these principles (Article 31 through Article 36 of the Constitution) touch upon a diverse array of issues, including an “Islamic way of life”, the “protection of the family”, and “the full participation of women in public life”. None of the first six principles of policy have any real tangible roots in modern Pakistani society. But does this necessarily mean that the Pakistan we know has failed the personality test outlined within its own Constitution? Not necessarily. Other crucial aspects of Pakistan — notwithstanding the importance of the issues addressed in Article 31 through Article 36 — are contained in the remaining principles. It would be unfair to declare failure without examining Article 37 through Article 40 — a section of the “Principles of policy” that we might even think of as the crux of the personality of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan.

Article 37 is titled “Promotion of social justice and eradication of social evils”, and it has nine bullet points. With due respect to the immense value of the space this newspaper affords me each week, these points require reproduction. Readers can wear whatever hat they’d like as they read these: jiyala, sher, mullah, sufi, stoner, poseur, moderate, fundo, liberal, disco or saada. It is unlikely that there will be different opinions about how Pakistan 2010 measures up against these:

“The state shall: (a) promote, with special care, the educational and economic interests of backward classes or areas; (b) remove illiteracy and provide free and compulsory secondary education within minimum possible period; (c) make technical and professional education generally available and higher education equally accessible to all on the basis of merit; (d) ensure inexpensive and expeditious justice; (e) make provision for securing just and humane conditions of work, ensuring that children and women are not employed in vocations unsuited to their age or sex, and for maternity benefits for women in employment; (f) enable the people of different areas, through education, training, agricultural and industrial development and other methods, to participate fully in all forms of national activities, including employment in the service of Pakistan; (g) prevent prostitution, gambling and taking of injurious drugs, printing, publication, circulation and display of obscene literature and advertisements; (h) prevent the consumption of alcoholic liquor otherwise than for medicinal and, in the case of non-Muslims, religious purposes; and (i) decentralise the government administration so as to facilitate expeditious disposal of its business to meet the convenience and requirements of the public.”

Let’s try to rein in our appetite for destruction for just one moment. Forget the ideological mishmash and the umbrage — either of living in a country of prohibition, or of living in a country whose promise of prohibition is about as binding as its promise of the protection of minority rights. The real question is whether there is a single one of the nine clauses that are treated with any degree of seriousness in Pakistan 2010. Emphatically, the Pakistani state has failed to promote social justice or eradicate social evils — according to Pakistan’s own definition. Not Amnesty International’s. Not the International Crisis Group’s. Not the New York Times’. Not David Ben-Gurion’s.

Article 38 is titled “Promotion of economic and social well-being of the people”. This principle, whose mention by Harris Khalique originally inspired this piece, also deserves reproduction here.

“The state shall: (a) secure the well-being of the people, irrespective of sex, caste, creed or race, by raising their standard of living, by preventing the concentration of wealth and means of production and distribution in the hands of a few to the detriment of general interest and by ensuring equitable adjustment of rights between employers and employees, and landlords and tenants; (b) provide for all citizens, within the available resources of the country, facilities for work and adequate livelihood with reasonable rest and leisure; (c) provide for all persons employed in the service of Pakistan or otherwise, social security by compulsory social insurance or other means; (d) provide basic necessities of life, such as food, clothing. housing, education and medical relief, for all such citizens, irrespective of sex, caste, creed or race, as are permanently or temporarily unable to earn their livelihood on account of infirmity, sickness or unemployment; (e) reduce disparity in the income and earnings of individuals, including persons in the various classes of the service of Pakistan; and (f) eliminate riba as early as possible.”

Much like Article 37, it is hard to find any area in which Article 38 has been adhered to. In most cases, in fact, it seems the active efforts of the state have been in the opposite direction of what the Constitution requires. The Constitution expressly forbids the concentration of wealth and calls for the adjustment of rights between landlords and tenants. Oh dear landlord. The Constitution expressly calls for a reduction in income disparities, especially between persons in the service of Pakistan. Oh dear GOR.

Article 39 is titled “Participation of people in armed forces”, and calls on the state to “enable people from all parts of Pakistan to participate in the armed forces of Pakistan”. People from all parts of Pakistan do not participate in the armed forces of Pakistan, and they never have. In the 1990s, young men used to be asked where their grandparents were born, as blooding new Urdu-speaking officers into the military was seen as an institutional risk. After decades of systematic exclusion, today, it is hard to find a Baloch citizen of Pakistan that feels anything but resentment towards the Pakistani state, with almost all the anger directed at the armed forces. In the future, Pakistanis from the tribal areas may find they have much in common with Muhajirs from the 1990s and the Baloch from 1947 onwards. Upward career mobility is not particularly smooth when you’re part of a ‘problem’ ethnic group.

The final principle of policy is Article 40, “Strengthening bonds with Muslim world and promoting international peace”. In the present global geopolitical context, Article 40 makes for compelling reading. It says that the state shall endeavour to “promote international peace and security”, and “encourage the settlement of international disputes by peaceful means” among other things. Pakistan has thorny and existential disagreements with Iran, Afghanistan and India. It is getting lectures on democratic conduct from Saudi Arabia. It is having trouble getting its paychecks from US Congress — paychecks promised on the back of waging war in its own territory. Safe to say that Article 40 is kind of lost in translation.

The utter dysfunction of Pakistan’s foreign relations is not an aberration. It follows the pattern of how brazenly the Pakistani state violates the nine principles of policy that precede the principle on foreign relations.

Pakistan treats its women, children, men, minorities, Muslims, disabled, needy and poor with little regard for the principles around which the state has been constructed. Why would Pakistan treat its neighbours, or countries with whom it shares brotherly bonds, any differently?

If this picture is too morbid or negative for the palate, there is something wrong with the palate. Not with the Constitution. The constitutional narrative since the Gen Musharraf era has focused with laser-like precision on the pomp, privilege and circumstance of the distribution of power among the elite.

Ordinary Pakistanis are right to be invested in the outcome of the tension between unconstitutional presidential power and constitutionally-mandated executive prime ministerial authority. But the discussion must reach far beyond the Charter of Democracy paradigm if it is to have real meaning for ordinary Pakistanis.

The Constitution is meaningful for ordinary Pakistanis in the rights that it affords them, and the principles that it defines for how the state will behave. These principles of policy are not theoretical constructs, to be dismissed as ideals. They define what the personality of Pakistan should be. They are its DNA and the real raison d’etre of the Pakistani state.

(Concluded)