The country that looked over its shoulder

A state's insecurity snowballs from inception 

The country that looked over its shoulder
If the United States is defined by institutionalized racism and China by its obsession with staying unified, the state of Pakistan is defined by insecurity. These tendencies tend to emerge during the inception a state and perpetuate through the years, taking different forms. In the United States for example, the slavery of the 17th and 18th centuries turned into the Jim Crow segregation laws of the late 19th century, which morphed into the modern-day mass incarceration of African Americans. Similarly, the Chinese state never lost its core objective of staying unified since the Qin Dynasty’s short but consequential rule over two millennia ago.

Insecurity was embedded into the institutional structure of the Pakistani state from the very beginning. It was a new state formed in haste for people adhering to multiple sub-nationalities, cultures, and languages with a vast India dividing the two halves of the country. The role of religion in state matters was ambiguous at best: Are we an Islamic state or a state for South Asian Muslims? Should non-Muslims within the state boundaries be given equal rights as citizens or asked to leave? Is Pakistan obliged to provide shelter to all the Muslims of the sub-continent or just the areas under its current boundaries? These questions were further confounded in the context of state bureaucracy and the military: How do we define our national ethos? Are we holders of secular post-colonial offices or instruments of an Islamic Republic? If Islam has so many shades and sub-nationalities are so strong within the country, how do we keep the country unified and ensure that the citizens work for the improvement of the entire nation rather than their regional interests?

The answer to these questions soon emerged in the form of defining Urdu as the national language, Islam as the national religion, and India as the national enemy. Our insecurity in protecting these defining traits of the state is palpable. We went to wars, lost one-half of the country, acquired nuclear weapons, defined who is a Muslim and who is not, labelled people traitors, and devised a faltering foreign policy to secure these ideas. These tenets were also invoked to establish the doctrine of strategic depth in Afghanistan and proxy-based tactical wars against India. The ensuing insecurity was used to overthrow elected governments during the 1990s and nurture religious extremists during the 2000s.

We have created our own monsters and spend sleepless nights worrying about them. We worry about the Americans stealing our nuclear weapons, we worry about maintaining an arms parity vis-à-vis India, we worry about religious groups getting out of hand and hurting our interests, and we worry about a conspiring Afghan government.

In the last five odd years, the state has taken yet another task contributing to its sense of insecurity: improving the national economy. The deep state has realized that it needs a steady flow of funds to maintain a minimum deterrence against India, expand its nuclear program, and control the country’s western borders with Afghanistan. The diminishing interest of the Americans in the region and the unwillingness of the Chinese to dole out cash for the military has forced the state to focus on internal streams of revenue. The extra-ordinary institutional interest of the state to maintain law and order in Karachi, the economic capital of the country, is a manifestation of this move toward the larger economic goals. A firmer grip on the dissenting elements in Balochistan as well as some religious groups in the last few years indicates that the deep state has decided that it will drive the nation’s internal security and will not tolerate any opposition as it plays out what it defines as its role. The recent detention of social media activists sent a clear message that any criticism of the deep state will not be permitted as it makes way for economic progress.

This new avatar is undoubtedly borrowed from the Chinese model of state capture, in which scores of villages are evicted to construct water reservoirs and pollution is forced onto the citizens to ensure low manufacturing costs. This model of state omnipresence is endemic to China and has built up through thousands of years of social and institutional evolution. The prevalent model in the sub-continent, on the other hand, is that of regional and local autonomy with only a minimum federal intervention. This is how the British, the Mughals, and everyone before them ruled the Indian Sub-Continent throughout history. While the deep state may feel compelled to take control and strengthen the economy, it is choosing the wrong methods and will end up creating more problems for future.

Enforcement of law and order through force alone without tending to the root causes of crime such as poverty, unequal distribution of wealth, lack of control on local resources, education, healthcare, and justice is temporary and harmful. The deep state is itself a party to extractive wealth generation through its ventures into real estate, transportation contracts, and finance which provides impetus for rising dissent among the masses. If the state wants to play a supporting role for the economy, it should emphasize strengthening a direct taxation regime on the wealthy, a crumbling lower judiciary, and local government structures. Or even better, allow a natural political process to take its due course in setting things in the right direction. The current meddling of the deep state in internal affairs of the country and suppression of dissent through force will only engender more insecurity for the state.

Obed Pasha is lecturer of Public Policy at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst.

He can be reached at obedpasha@gmail.com or @ramblingsufi