THE relationship of morality to politics has occupied philosophers the world over since time immemorial. While the ideas of Western thinkers such as Machiavelli and Kant have gained universal acclaim, non-Western philosophers have grappled with such questions for as long, if not longer, than their Western counterparts. Gandhi’s reflections, for instance, build upon a line of thinking about the self and collective thousands of years old.

Most classical and contemporary thinkers acknowledge that politics is more often than not amoral, especially at the highest echelons of power. This does not preclude us postulating what politics should be about, but many philosophers believe that abstract notions of morality typically bear little resemblance to what actually happens in the real-life political sphere.

One of the defining precepts of modernity is that ethical, and political, concerns do not have to be rooted in one or other conception of the divine. In short, religion is not the only source of morality, and political choices can and should be made without recourse to the universalistic appeals of one or the other faith.

We make no distinction between ethics, religion and politics.

While philosophers alert us to the complexity of the link between morality and politics, politicians prefer to paint in broad strokes. They regularly claim their ideals and choices are motivated purely by broader ethical concerns, like the collective ‘good’ or ‘rights’ of citizens. This is true all over the world, but we Pakistanis distinguish ourselves from the rest, largely because we make no distinction between ethics, religion and politics.

Take the never-ending moralising of Imran Khan, who insists that he is the voice of righteousness in the midst of an immoral mob that is posing as the rightful representative of the people. The PTI chief regularly invokes Islam to verify his political credentials, and never tires of reminding us that fate has decided that he alone can save Pakistan.

Khan employs such rhetorical flourishes in the mould of the religious right that is the PTI’s favourite political ally. Since the Zia years all mainstream parties have either willingly employed religious rhetoric in their political discourse or reluctantly acceded to the fact they have no choice but to do so.

Indeed, almost every major political statement in this country is laced with a moral/religious tinge. For the most part politicians (and the army) express moral outrage at the machinations of the ‘enemies of Islam’, but from time to time there is also celebration at the outstanding moral character of individuals or institutions that embody the best ‘Islamic’ values.

Tellingly, it is not just mainstream politicians, the religious right or state functionaries that conflate morality and politics. Progressives increasingly express their politics in moral terms as well. The whole discourse of ‘terrorism’ is both cause and consequence of this intensifying trend. After every blast that takes innocent lives, a wave of moral indignation does the rounds, and the forces of reason (read: the state) are implored to bring the incivility to a halt. The politics underlying this moral indignation is generally of the liberal variety, usually voiced by individuals in their capacity as ‘concerned citizens’.

Publicised incidents of gratuitous violence against women and groups whose religious affiliations cast them outside the pale of the state’s version of Islam similarly induce moral outrage and a round of protests but little in the way of an organised politics — presumably because parties that consider themselves liberal are wary of contesting the hegemony of the faith-tinged morality that undergirds mainstream discourse.

Progressives regularly lament this meekness in the face of the religious right. But what of our own moralising and the politics — implicit or otherwise — into which this moralising translates? Just take the most recent example of an admittedly horrific act of violence against a Christian couple in Kasur. The reactions of progressives after the deaths have been largely predictable, including the silence on fundamental aspects of the couple’s condition.

That the husband and wife were lynched by a mob on the basis of a trumped up blasphemy charge is clear. But what about the fact that these two Christians — and the rest of their family — were indentured labourers who were ultimately reduced to ashes inside the very brick kiln in which they toiled their whole lives?

Yes there are well-to-do Christians — and other religious groups for that matter — facing victimisation, but there is a close nexus between religious identity and class that is operative in Pakistani politics which too many progressives continually ignore. Moral indignation neither helps to make sense of this nexus or, more importantly, build a politics against it.

Morality and politics are certainly related, but progressives need to stop being the mirror image of the religious right if they want to challenge the latter’s hegemony.

The writer teaches at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad.

Published in Dawn, November 7th, 2014