The lover of the wine cup who blurts out the truth in a state of abandon is better than the jurisconsult who seeks refuge in expediency.
— Zafar Ali Khan
MUCH water has flown under the bridge, assuming that what flows into the Ravi these days is water, since Khawaja Asif began to be lambasted for speaking truthfully about some of the problems that involvement in the Afghanistan conflict has saddled Pakistan with. This is not surprising. Indeed, it only confirms Bulleh Shah’s axiom that when the truth is out, a commotion must follow.
What is surprising, and quite painful, is the fact that not many people have had the courage to speak in support of the foreign minister. Barring a couple of rational comments, the media overwhelmingly joined the chorus of calumny. While the minister’s party members chose to discover the virtues of silence, the opposition stalwarts jumped at the opportunity to play to the gallery. The Foreign Office’s clarification that the minister’s statement had been quoted out of context amounted to denying him credit for being honest.
The habit of denial has found a permanent place in the minds of Pakistanis.
The affair will sooner or later be superseded by another meaningless controversy. What should not be forgotten is the bitter reality that the habit of denial has found a permanent place in the minds of Pakistanis.
The terrible consequences of living in denial are well known. By denying a fact that is known to many, if not to everyone, you invite being called a knave or a liar, or both. Worse, persistent denial will more often than not convince you that the problem is not real. And you cannot try to solve a problem if you believe that it does not exist. Subsequently, you may become aware of your mistake, but by then, the issue might have become insolvable or the cost of setting matters right unaffordable.
This is also what has happened in the case of Balochistan. Persistent refusal to see the real causes of discontent in that province from the point of view of its people, and attempts to force the latter to sing patriotic songs under the shadow of bayonets, have made all parties sink deeper and deeper into despair. A fair settlement of Balochistan’s grievances that seemed possible 40 years ago has been made almost impossible by preferring falsehood to the truth.
There is, however, a need to take up with Khawaja Asif the question of the manner in which the truth, especially of the unwelcome variety, can be told most effectively. He is known for speaking in unnecessarily high tones and often off the cuff. This style won’t help him as foreign ministers are expected to be firm without appearing to be unreasonable. They should be able to convey the most bitter of messages after coating it with sugar. The reason is obvious: truth’s hardest blows will have no effect on those steeped in falsehood, whereas a persuasive rendering of the truth can at least make the other party reflect on what it has been told.