MOST societies that suffer from economic and social backwardness today do so because they cling to fatalism. They see their condition as the will of a higher power, and draw solace from the thought that they will be rewarded for their acceptance of an unfair system in the next life.
While such an attitude might help numb individual suffering, it does little to change the status quo and improve the lot of the downtrodden majority. Muslims, in particular, are taught to adhere to a literal interpretation of sacred scriptures, and thus attribute their suffering in this world to the will of their Maker. This, of course, suits inefficient and corrupt rulers, and was the reason why Marx called religion the opiate of the masses.
It is bad enough when uneducated men and women take this fatalistic view of life, but when intelligent people blame their misfortunes on dark, unseen powers — often foreign and malign forces — one can only despair. In a recent panel discussion about the fateful events of 1977 when the elected government of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto was toppled by an opposition alliance, ushering in the destructive, 11-year era of Gen Ziaul Haq, this attitude of fatalism was on prominent display.
All three participants had been close observers of the events that led up to the army coup. Hafeez Pirzada, the prominent barrister, had been a senior minister under Bhutto and was one of the ill-fated prime minister’s closest advisers; Prof Ghafoor Ahmed of the Jamaat-i-Islami was a key member of the anti-PPP alliance and had been a part of the PNA’s negotiating team; and Prof N.D. Khan had been a senior member of the PPP.
After a fascinating discussion in which many little-known details emerged, the host asked Pirzada if, in his view, the outcome could have been different. The lawyer was of the opinion that had his party accepted that the election results in 15-20 constituencies had been controversial, and agreed to the opposition demand for fresh polls immediately, the crisis could have been defused. But N.D. Khan said the ‘march of folly’ was inevitable, given Henry Kissinger’s warning to Bhutto over Pakistan’s nuclear programme.
The March of Folly is the title of Barbara Tuchman’s famous account of the blunders rulers have made since the Trojan campaign to the Vietnam war, and was repeatedly used during the panel discussion to describe the sequence of actions that led Pakistan to the nightmare that was Zia’s rule.
The view that the future is decided by outside powers has taken firm hold of the Pakistani imagination. Based on a conspiratorial view of history, all major events are seen as being beyond our own power to control. Thus, because the Americans had decided to make “a horrible example” of Bhutto (Kissinger’s words), we could do nothing to change the scenario that had been scripted in Washington.
In this particular case, the official responsible for preventing the Jamaat candidate in Bhutto’s Larkana constituency from filing his papers to ensure the unopposed election of the prime minister should have been immediately suspended. This would have sent a strong signal to the bureaucracy that rigging would be unacceptable.
As it was, civil servants in a score or so of constituencies across the country took their cue from Larkana, and proceeded to massage the results to the ruling PPP’s advantage. This precipitated a crisis of legitimacy, and the toppling of the Bhutto government. Contrary to popular myth, there was in fact no great conspiracy to rig the election: just a handful of bureaucrats looking out for their careers, as civil servants tend to do.
With the benefit of hindsight, it is possible to pinpoint exact moments in time when a decisive intervention could have changed events. For example, Asghar Khan’s role in sabotaging an agreement between the PNA and the PPP has always been obvious. Involving the Saudi ambassador in the talks had been a huge mistake. And, as it emerged during the panel discussion, delaying the announcement of the agreement that had been reached on July 2 gave Zia the opportunity to move on the 5th of the month.
Perhaps Bhutto’s biggest error of judgment had been the appointment of Ziaul Haq as the chief of army staff. By superseding more capable and less devious generals, Bhutto sealed his own and the country’s fate.All these events and decisions were in the hands of our own politicians. To assume they were all puppets manipulated from Washington is to have a very low opinion of our own capabilities. History is full of hinge moments when decision-makers are faced with choices, and the option they exercise takes us in a different direction. This is equally true of individual decisions. To assume that everything is in the lap of the gods is to deny our individuality, as well as our ability to make informed choices.
We fall into this trap of fatalism again and again. Currently, we have convinced ourselves that we are facing the scourge of terrorism because the Americans attacked Afghanistan. Further back in time, Pakistanis blame the CIA for helping to fuel Islamic militancy to fight the Soviets, and then walk away when the war was won.
This take on events glosses over our own role: the ISI under Zia actively armed and financed these jihadis. Without enthusiastic Pakistani participation and Saudi money, the Americans could not have forced the Soviets out. And after the war was over, we allowed the jihadi camps to remain until the ISI activated the militant networks again to dabble in Afghan affairs.
Thus we are very much responsible for the fallout from the jihadi monster we helped create. To simply blame others is to pretend that we are the victims. It also prevents us from learning lessons from the past.
At another level, by attributing everything to the Maker, we make sure that nothing will improve. When a doctor makes a fatal mistake, the family of the victim will say of the death: “It was God’s will.” This lets the doctor and the hospital off the hook, and makes it probable that this kind of professional misconduct will recur. Had the family sued those responsible, perhaps a corrective procedure would be put in place.
Ultimately, then, if we are not prepared to take responsibility for our actions — and for our inaction — we should not complain of the mess we are in.