Our sceptical ‘common man’
IT’s election time and the common man — the beloved of every single political party worth its name — seems to be more involved in political happenings this time round. But this spike in interest is more about what is happening today, in the immediate, rather than being about the manifestos that deal with the post-election scenario, the future.
Talking to this universal political beloved — the Common Man — on the streets and in social circles throws up three main themes defining the activity: utter ridicule for the opponent, vague rationalisation for the favourite and downright across-the-board scepticism of the neutral.
The good thing about the term Common Man is that it cuts across boundaries. If you are not filthy rich, you are part of the fraternity. Nobody has read the manifesto, but almost everybody has something to say on the basis of what the media says the manifestos say.
If you are in a hurry, here is the gist of what the Common May says in response to the litany of promises: “How will they do it? the economy, education, healthcare, employment and even tourism. For God’s sake, tell us, how are they going to do what they say they will?”
If you are not in a hurry, here are glimpses of how the encounter with the Common Man went. For many, it may not be too unexpected.
Poverty elimination has been one of the main elements in the manifestos of all the three major parties. For want of space, let’s focus on this factor alone in the spirit of sampling a dish to judge the quality of the entire menu.
The PPP vows to “free all Pakistani people from the fear of hunger, thirst and helplessness.” The reaction to the statement ranged from mocking laughter to remarks that are hard to quote here. One can be quoted though. “See, they have not promised to free people from hunger, thirst and helplessness ... just from the fear of such things. If you are dead, you don’t have fear of anything, right?”
On its part, the PML-N manifesto promises to “eliminate poverty by 2030”. The response range remained pretty much the same, with the outstanding quote being: “2030? They can’t even do it by 3020!”
The PTI has worded its pledge slightly better by talking of disparity rather than poverty. In its first 100-day plan and then again while launching his eleven points, party chief Imran Khan regretted that “all policies being developed and implemented in Pakistan [were] aimed at making the rich richer and the poor poorer.”
It sounded alright, if not impressive, but the Common Man continued to have a different take, wondering: “What about his own journey from Zaman Park to Banigala? Is it not a case of the rich getting richer? Will he move against himself?”
Interestingly, the Common Man forced into the equation a few other factors, citing the PTI chief’s self-declared latest income tax payment worth Rs103,763. “After being elected, and after introducing the promised tax reforms, will he be willing to rationalise his lifestyle and income tax?”
About Mr Khan’s insistence that the “system won’t flourish in the country until merit was followed in all spheres of life”, the Common Man had a simple query: “Merit or ‘electable’ merit?”
As for party supporters and sympathisers, every act of PTI and PML-N stands absolutely rationalised to their eyes on two respective grounds. For the PTI, it is about, “just let him come and you will see the difference ... it will be a revolution”. For the PML-N, it is the victimisation card: “We never got a free hand. This time we will handle it differently.”
The PPP supporters, however, are in a league of their own. They don’t talk of what the party would do or at least about its failure during two consecutive terms in power. Instead, they start, continue and finish their argument with what “Bhutto did” and what “Benazir did” for the country. It may not quite be the case, but the consistency of this line of argument does make one wonder if the party is part of the past already.
Published in Dawn, The Business and Finance Weekly, July 9th, 2018