The Moon Also Rises

Mike Mullen, the new CIA top spook, recently shot a very damaging diatribe and its ramifications are obvious: Shatter the foundations of the only solid citadel in Pakistan, the ISI. The brass has been caught with their pants down. Too much kowtowing with Langley and Pentagon has brought a double-edged onslaught. The Yankees are pointing their Star Wars type weapons on Rawalpindi while the populace is hankering for some credible answers. As if playing a well-scripted opera, the top brass of each nation made sudden orchestrated dashes to Washington and Islamabad pretending that things are getting better. Wow, one trip of the ISI head honcho to Virginia and sweet nectar starts flowing. It reminds one of the “successes” of Interior Minister Rehman “Baba” Malik who needs just one trip to convince MQM to taste the sweet apple and forget the past. The Man in the Big House in Margalla has assumed the role of a Teflon President. He is content with what’s happening all around him and ensures that no dirt gets splashed on his bespoke suits. He is also convinced that he has everyone under his control inspite of what anyone says or whines; he calls the tune and makes the rules of the new game. One is not sure whether he is sitting in his bunker counting his wealth and making more money by the minute or he is more concerned about the welfare of the people and the machinations of politicians of other parties. The Little Caesar from the spiritual city is tending his money-making brood and spewing idiotic and nonsensical comments on subjects that he has no idea about. Small wonder the Head of the government is not taken seriously by anybody.

The hawks in Washington and New Delhi are splitting their seams with joy and satisfaction. The laughter can be heard all the way to Woodbridge Virginia and all the way to Agra in Uttar Pradesh. The tough boys in Tel Aviv are sitting with a smirk on their faces, contemplating a rerun of 9/11, this time on Kahuta.

Karachi is hostage to desperadoes and burning rapidly; every now and then the Custodian of the Big Mansion sends “Baba”, his Best Buddy, to Karachi with a First-Aid box to administer ad hoc relief. The publicity freak has already been successful in placing his own Chief Secretary, IGP, and the Home Secretary in Sindh. Police morale is at its lowest ebb while the Rangers, financed by the hapless Sindh government, are nowhere to be seen. Maybe they too are scared of the wrath of the citizens. It now turns out that Israeli arms are liberally available in Karachi. (Because no one inspects or opens up the containers carrying goods under the notorious Afghan Transit Trade Agreement, an anti-Pakistani industry arrangement between Pakistan and Afghanistan, and a despicable facility so zealously adored by Foggy Bottom thinkers).

Law and order is a scarce commodity in Karachi while businessmen are desperate and dejected to an extent that they do not want to open their shops and offices. Extortionists are untouchable and no one has the guts to say no to them or even apprehend them. They send “chits” with demands and even include their names, addresses, and telephone numbers. How audacious one can get! On top of all this, KESC, and its overtime-loving, on-strike workers, have brought darkness to the City of Lights. Karachi has become a miserable and despondent victim of the turf war of land grabbers, gun-runners, and drug mafia under the patronage of ethno-political parties, with periodic target killings commencing and ending on cue. When things start settling down, an insensible Sindh Minister, the wobbly cannon of the party in power, ensures that all hell breaks loose as he regurgitates venom against an ethnic community whose power base is in Urban Sindh. He is gagged by his superiors but his penchant for verbal diarrhea impels him to discharge contempt again and again.
The nuclear duo of Dr A Q Khan and Dr Samar Mubarakmand are indulging in activities that are not in their domain. The hero-worshipping in Pakistan is becoming a rare occurrence since modern day idols in Pakistan's Somnath are demolished every week.

The faithful are wary of the clergy and the viewers are tired of TV talk show jockeys. The rich are talking to immigration lawyers while the poor are contemplating ways to feed the hungry at home.

This is harvest season for the anti-Pakistan elements. This is the time for them to strike while the proverbial iron is hot. This is opportunity for them to divert the nation’s attention from progress and prosperity.

Yes, this may be D-Day for them but this dastardly conspiracy, this malevolent strategy, and this vicious thinking can be thwarted if 180 million denizens decide to unite for a change. The citizens must pull the rug from under those who cannot bear the very thought of a developing nation armed with a nuclear arsenal. Is it possible? The jury is still out but the leaders, the intellectuals, and most of all the business community of this country must endeavor and try to motivate them into action, to wake them from their slumber, and to inculcate the lost respect.

Revolutionary poet Habib Jalib was one of those who attempted to ignite this fire of patriotism and hope:

Ootahain lakh deewarain tulooh mehr to hoga . . .
Ye shab ke paasban kub tak na hum ko raasta dain ge . . .

[Not for long can these custodians of night resist our advance. . .
For the moon shall rise no matter how high you build the walls]