By Irfan Husain
LAST night at a dinner party in London, I was seated next to a lady who is soon setting off on a road trip to Gilgit and Hunza in Pakistan, and then on to Kashgar, in western China. She is going with her journalist husband and three children. An 18-year old daughter is planning to teach English at a school in the Northern Areas for six months. Instead of telling her what to see and where to go, I found myself warning her of the dangers and pitfalls that awaited her and her family. A week ago, I tried to dissuade a young Brit, fresh out of the army, from venturing out on a solo trekking expedition to the same area.
This is a truly sad reflection on the state of Pakistan today. Last year, we were bringing an English friend to Islamabad for a trip to Skardu, but then had to cancel at the last minute because of the government action in Lal Masjid and its bloody fallout. The truth is that Pakistan is not a foreigner-friendly country any more. Don’t get me wrong: at a personal level, Pakistanis are as hospitable as ever. But in public, reactions to the presence of foreigners range from outright hostility to rude, intrusive curiosity. Over the years, as the number of outsiders visiting Pakistan has dropped steadily, a generation has grown up without any contact with non-Pakistanis. This insularity and isolation, coupled with the anti-West sentiments whipped up by the media, has made our country a very dangerous place for foreigners. So instead of encouraging visitors, we tend to prepare them for the risks they face.
Not that Brits are beating a path to our shores: almost daily, newspaper and TV reports talk of the rising tension and violence on our Afghan border, and the political turmoil within the country. As a Pakistani, I feel a sense of relief each time I open a newspaper that does not contain any news from Pakistan: no news is good news in our case.
Over the weekend, we were at a friend’s place called the Net House just outside Hay-on-Wye. I have written about this spot before as it is my favourite place in Britain. Situated on the river Wye, the little town (population: 1,800) has become a centre for books because of its annual literary festival. It has some 40 second-hand bookshops that together contain around two million books. Over the years, I have spent hours browsing, and never come back empty-handed. But the attraction for the scenic beauty of the place is equally strong. The Net House is situated on a bend in the river where the water murmurs over a small cascade. Ducks glide along, to be overtaken by arrogant-looking swans. The occasional salmon surfaces with a small slash to break the stillness. Behind the river rise the Black Mountains, a range of austere hills where thousands of sheep and wild horses graze.
Looking at my idyllic surroundings, I was reminded of the fact that we have many such spots in the Northern Areas in Pakistan, and our mountains are far more spectacular. Alas, many of them have become no-go areas over the past few years, especially for foreigners. But even in safer days, how many Pakistanis actually travelled there?
Another huge difference I notice almost daily is the approach people take to politics in the two countries I now divide my time between. In Pakistan, the tone is loud, angry and passionate. Here, politics are anodyne and tame, not the blood sport we Pakistanis are accustomed to. The other day, for instance, I heard Nawaz Sharif speaking at the Islamabad rally held on the conclusion of the lawyers’ ‘long march’. Among other memorable things the PML-N chief said was and I quote verbatim: “I know Pakistanis are facing enormous problems. Food and fuel prices have shot up. But once the dismissed judiciary is reinstated, I swear by God (Khuda ki qasam), all your problems will be solved!” If a leading politician had made this kind of promise in Britain, he would have been flayed by the media. But to the best of my knowledge, Nawaz Sharif has not been asked to explain how the reinstatement of Mr Iftikhar Chaudhry and his colleagues will solve the growing mountain of problems facing Pakistan today.
In Britain, as both major political parties jockey for position to occupy the centre, there are fewer differences to separate them. Apart from personalities, it makes very little difference if you vote Labour or Conservative. This makes for safe, dull politics. In fact, Prime Minister Gordon Brown’s humourless, plodding approach makes him an easy target for cartoonists and columnists alike. Opposition leader David Cameron comes across as much more positive and dynamic by contrast. But this about sums up what separates the two parties, given their convergence on most major issues.
Against this backdrop, it is no surprise that young Brits are completely turned off politics. Turnout in local and national elections for under-30s is low, and falling. When contrasted with the electrifying effect Barack Obama’s candidacy is having on American politics, Britain comes across as tediously grey. Nevertheless, growing inflation is causing even the most complacent to sit up and take notice of what’s going on. Alarm bells are ringing at the prospect of inflation hitting 4 per cent. I wonder what would happen if the price hike were to touch our minimum inflation rate of 14 per cent.
Newspapers are full of tips on how to save money at a time the economy is heading for a recession. This advice ranges from the lowest mortgages to cheaper insurance rates. Websites pinpoint petrol pumps selling fuel (nearly double Pakistani prices) cheaply in areas close to where you live. There is a growing unease about economic prospects, and already people are beginning to tighten their belts. After over a decade of unprecedented prosperity, Brits (and the entire developed world) are coming to terms with the iron rule of economics and gravity: what goes up must come down.
Often, English friends complain to me about how boring their politics is compared to ours. I just tell them to count their blessings.
Source: The Dawn, Pakistan
URL: http://www.newageislam.com/islam,terrorism-and-jihad/pakistan--growing-no-go-areas/d/157