Reform promises made, but hard to keep in Pakistan
Imran Khan, the onceswashbuckling and debonair new prime minister of Pakistan, made lofty promises to reform the country’s decaying educational, political, social and legal frameworks.
The people were jubilant: finally someone from among them, rather than from the traditional oligarchic parties, had risen to power and would hopefully usher in a vibrant, progressive Pakistan.
What has really changed in a country where the most recent election promises were predicated on thorough change for the better?
Appearances certainly have. I have spent the past two weeks in Pakistan. What I’ve seen in the capital are buses and vans proudly displaying captions like “Prime Minister’s National Health Program” or “Prime Minister’s Educational Service Reform.”
Khan has certainly aligned his brand with the as-yet non-existent reforms. Perhaps these appearances will fool the politically naive, but it seems unlikely that such cosmetic measures will deliver the kind of reform the country so badly needs.
Granted, there have been promising token measures. Khan has sold the fancy cars, livestock and other luxuries that were a perennial feature of the prime ministerial house. In fact, he has become the first prime minister to decline to live in that house. However, one deeper change — Khan’s austerity drive — mainly affects the poor, who understandably complain of rising living costs.
His top stated aims were educational and medical reform. Undisclosed educational changes are being considered. In the largest province, the Punjab, Minister of Health Yasmin Rashid has promised to issue health cards to the poorest of the poor. These cards would attempt to provide them easier access to health care, but the specific services are yet to be revealed.
Pessimism is justified. Pakistan’s problems are too monumental to be overcome in the normal lifespan of a government. The economy is such a shambles that the IMF’s austerity demands are crippling. The skyrocketing
population continues to overload scant services, forever widening the gap between problems and their solutions.
The newly elected prime minister’s allies remain suspect and present the biggest stumbling block to any reform. Many consider Khan a stooge of the army and suspect that whatever the army wants, Khan will have to deliver, or else he will be ousted. On the political front, a coalition of opposition parties is already forming to topple him.
Progress is difficult when attitudes remain entrenched in parochialism. Social ills prevail, such as honour killings and the persecution of religious minorities, and the new conservatism that has prevailed since the 1980s clamps down on the merest suggestion of change. The Ahmadiyya community, for example, remains perhaps the most persecuted religious minority of Pakistan. While the overwhelming Muslim majority may at least tolerate Christians and Hindus, most cannot abide Ahmadis because they call themselves Muslims but refuse to uphold the finality of the Prophet Muhammad as God’s last messenger on earth.
Khan initially appointed an Ahmadi, Atif Mian, to an important economic post, but social pressure made him resign. Such is the climate in this country, which is riddled with toxic sentiments toward those seen as religious pariahs.
Khan’s problems are insurmountable. His opposition, from long-established vested interests, is massive and influential. His allies are untrustworthy and problematic.
With this type of dysfunction embedded in Pakistan, it is naive to remain optimistic about any real change. Promises and a populist image go only so far.