Whether they are politicians seated in power or high-ranking officers, they are exceptionally busy—so busy that they do not have time to answer phone calls, nor do they meet common citizens, nor do they bother to inform the public about the decisions being made regarding them. In “Tazadistan” (the Land of Contradictions), “busyness” is actually the name of a disease that afflicts every occupant of a power seat, and this disease does not leave them until the chair itself leaves them. Much like COVID, the disease of busyness does not come alone; it brings along other afflictions such as arrogance, indifference, and annoyance at even mild criticism or disagreement—just as having a cold naturally brings along a runny nose and cough. Over the past 40 years, I have observed the busyness of those in power from up close. There is an English idiom: “Look busy, do nothing.” Now, the journalist’s problem is that he must keep track of the news regarding those in power, and if the news stream stops, he must take them to task. Therefore, most power-holders avoid journalists, but obviously, since it is a single river, the journalistic fish and the political crocodiles have to live in the same water, so face-to-face encounters happen from time to time.
At present, the biggest chair-holder in the country is the Prime Minister. This pen-pusher has had decades of acquaintance and personal warmth with him; I have witnessed his tenure in power, am witnessing it now, and have also observed his periods of trial and opposition. The Prime Minister has been in power for 17 years, and he has recently presented his fifth consecutive budget as Prime Minister. I have severe disagreements with his federal government’s inability to make decisions, failure to build a political narrative, and failure to accelerate the economy, and I express this repeatedly. However, despite my disagreements and criticism, whenever Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif meets me, he meets with open arms and a smiling face. Otherwise, almost every power-holder frowns, stops meeting, gets offended, and if they have authority, even troubles you over criticism or disagreement. But to be fair, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif has borne direct criticism against him with a cheerful disposition. At the end of June, I wrote a column stating that his peak period was over and that his decline would begin in July, and in reality, that is exactly what is happening. The problems that were locked in the box are opening one by one. No matter how much the Prime Minister bows, effaces himself, or changes, the problems encircling him are colossal. Let us see how he manages to absolve himself of them.
The Prime Minister is the only chair-holder who, despite reportedly working 18 hours “day and night,” is not “busy.” He meets visitors, maintains contact with allies, undertakes foreign visits, regularly visits and gives time to both of his homes, pays weekly attendance at his elder brother’s residence in Jati Umra, and keeps the high offices pleased. In short, among all chair-holders, he is the only one who has not been intoxicated by power and authority; otherwise, every power-holder is hissing like a cobra with its hood spread wide. In their state of busyness, power-holders only meet the elite, talk only to them, and are available only to them.
The busyness of power-holders brings to mind a character from Punjabi folklore: Jagga. There is a famous Punjabi proverb about Jagga: “Jagga’e noo nit mehmaan” (Jagga has new guests every day). This proverb is used for someone who faces a new conflict, brawl, or issue every single day. Those who meddle in every affair and unnecessarily show themselves as busy also fall under the humorous interpretation of this proverb. Jagga Jatt was actually the famous name of Sardar Jagat Singh Virk; he was an outlaw to the British and a Robin Hood to the poor, and was later killed by the British through deception. Well, Jagga’s exploits seem to be ingrained in the very nature of our ministers and officers.
One of our respected ministers is the chairman of over a hundred committees. Now that he has assumed the chairmanship of so many committees, who will find the time for them? General Bajwa had expressed this exact complaint about this minister during a meeting, and the same complaint is being repeated today. A provincial government has launched over 100 new projects; many of them are very good, but no one has the time to monitor the pace and quality of the remaining 90-plus projects. When work is spread so thin, no job can be executed neatly. Priority can only be given to four or five issues, as anything beyond that is simply outside human capacity. In the federal government, two ministers are carrying resignation letters in their pockets out of sheer frustration. A federal cabinet is essentially a team that must run the country through collective decisions; however, here, as soon as the whistle blows, every minister seeks out their own new direction—some favor new provinces, while others oppose them; some remain silent, while others keep speaking incessantly. Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif may not be a populist politician, but he is certainly a good manager and administrator. He needs to put his own house in order and bring discipline to his cabinet. Due to the Prime Minister’s “laxity,” the government’s “wheel” is getting punctured and going out of control.
It is worth remembering that when Shehbaz Sharif was Chief Minister of Punjab, to counter the fake busyness of power-seated bureaucracy, he made it mandatory for everyone to answer their mobile phones personally. Through this revolutionary step, for the first time, the general public became able to speak directly with those in power. Shehbaz Sharif himself used to call officers on their mobile numbers to check whether they answered themselves or not. This practice had a very positive impact. Chief Minister Maryam Nawaz Sharif handpicks good officers for power positions, but as soon as these officers take their seats, they become so busy that they are unavailable to anyone. The routine of remaining accessible on the phone and responding to every call, which started in the Shehbaz Sharif era, has completely ceased. For one, the Chief Minister herself and her senior team are accessible neither to journalists nor to the public and elected representatives. Secondly, ever since the PML-N put all its eggs in one basket, it has come to believe that the basket will keep the job secure. But the basket is also exposed to wind, storms, and sunlight. Journalists, the public, and elected representatives are that very wind, storm, and sunlight which can affect the job tied to the basket and can even end up ruining it.
It must be remembered that any politician or officer in power who does not answer the phone or even respond to calls is guilty of neglecting their duty of accountability and communication; the rest of their busyness is utter falsehood and deception. Nowadays, the situation is such that officers and government politicians neither take anyone’s call nor respond, using the exact same excuse of “busyness.” If this “busyness” of officers and government politicians continues, then journalists will fly “paper planes” (run wild speculations), the public will make mock of them, and members of the assembly will take offense. Today’s fake busyness will ultimately culminate in “unemployment” tomorrow. Those who are all “busy” today will find that this very busyness renders them “free” (out of power). The fate of those who acted out the drama of being “busy” in the past has already been seen—may today’s “busy ones” not suffer the exact same end.