Is Imran on the Same Page with the Clergy?
By Karamatullah K. Ghori
Toronto, Canada

There would be hardly any exaggeration, or hyperbole, if one were to say that Imran Khan (IK) is going through a test of fire of his art of governance under the onslaught of Covid-19 pandemic. In the Hindu mythology this is referred to as agni parikhsha.
Even in normal circumstances—and one should use the word ‘normal’ in Pakistan’s context with a big pinch of salt—there’s hardly a dearth of elements arrayed against IK in the country. There is, for one, this motley crowd of pesky politicians who think of it as their entitlement to come hard on any of his moves, right or wrong. Opposition for the sake of opposition is an article of unshakable faith with these political rivals of IK. They are, sadly, not the least into how opposition leaders should behave in a seasoned democratic culture. But, then, neither these foes of IK are cultured nor have Pakistan’s checkered history allowed much room for the seasoning of democracy and democratic mores.
Even when IK’s political foes are, at times, sluggish or indolent in catching him by the throat, there’s always this clutch of Imran-baiting media hacks—pen-pushers et al.—who seem sworn to give him no quarters. These hacks have their loyalties incorporated with this or that known nemesis of IK and, by virtue of it, relentless in their unbridled critique of him. To these self-anointed keepers of ‘national conscience’ IK simply couldn’t do anything right or good for the country. Some are so unabashed that they wouldn’t bat a lid in pining for return to the kleptocracy that was so much in vogue under Nawaz and Zardari.
In coming to grips with the beast of Covid-19, IK’s track record can’t, by any measure, be called consistent or up to the mark. He has prevaricated, dragged his feet and has been found wanting or erratic in moments that demanded firm and resolute response to the pandemic. Even his admirers and aficionados would admit, even if reluctantly, that their kaptan hasn’t, in this episode, exuded any glint of that firmness that so distinguished his career in cricket.
Imran, now well into his second year in power should have by now learned the ropes of how a leader is expected to lead in the teeth of a crisis, especially a crisis of life and death with precious lives of Pakistanis at stake. Timing in leadership at the top is as important and decisive as in cricket. In fact, leadership is all about timing. A decision taken at the right time may earn glory for the leader and salvation for his people. Winston Churchill (let me make it perfectly clear for the record that I’m no admirer of that rabid imperialist) earned his immutable place in history by taking timely decisions for his beleaguered nation and country in the jaws of its greatest test of survival and saved Britain.
Much of the criticism against IK’s performance—or lack of it—under the Covid-19 onslaught has been heaped on account of his less-than-decisive action on the sensitive question of ‘lockdown.’ Sindh’s CM, Murad Ali Shah—otherwise decried as a bell-boy of that notorious Zardari—has salvaged much of his reputation by standing firm on lockdown of his province, especially of Karachi. No doubt the lockdown has paralyzed the city and, by virtue of it, dealt a heavy blow to its standing as Pakistan’s economic motor. But Zardari’s factotum can’t be faulted on his initiative because by thus doing he may have saved tens of thousands of lives. One can well imagine, to their horror, what could it have been like without enforced regimentation in a bustling and disorderly metropolis like Karachi.
IK’s robust resistance to go with the flow of total lockdown of the country—an easy and questionable route in the eyes of many—has been denounced by his political foes and media hacks carrying a chip on their shoulder against him. But his argument of weighing the devastating impact of such a draconian policy on the lives of Pakistan’s teeming poor daily wage earners has definite merit.
It’s too early in the current situation to come up with a verdict for or against IK’s partial lockdown. It’s hard to say if the pandemic has touched a plateau—essential to review the process of lockdown. That plateau may still be some time away in Pakistan, much as everyone looking for a way out of this monster pestilence would wish for.
But in the throes of this crisis—which hasn’t peaked yet—a formidable challenge has been posed to IK’s decision-taking by a clutch of people who are neither from the ranks of his political foes nor his media baiters. It’s the clergy putting his leadership to test.
On April 14, some very prominent religious leaders—Ulemas—held a press conference at the Karachi Press Club and announced that they will not, henceforth, be bound to observe the officially-mandated lockdown when it came to offering prayers—namaz or Salat—in mosques. This would include all five prayers of the day, plus the weekly Friday prayers, an important event on the weekly calendar of Muslims. Needless to add that prayers of Eids and the Taraweeh prayers, an essential ingredient of the holy month of fasting, the Ramadan, will also be included in this list. In fact, the impending commencement of Ramadan, due from April 25, added an element of urgency to the exercise undertaken by the Ulemas.
Those gracing the stage of the press conference included not only leaders of all the major religion-based political parties—JUI, JUP, Jamaeet-e-Islami et al.—but also luminaries of Pakistan’s religious constellation, such as Mufti Taqi Usmani and Mufti Muneebur Rehman. The former is the son of Maulana Shabbir Ahmed Usmani, a close associate of the Founder of Pakistan, Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah, and an eminent and respected scholar in his own right. He has also served on the Federal Shariat Court. The latter is the reigning head of the Central Ruet-e-Hilal Committee and commands great respect in the country’s religious and political circles.
Forbidding the believers from going to a mosque of his choice or the one in his neighborhood or vicinity, has been a touchy and sensitive—if not combustive—issue in Pakistan. It’s no hassle for undemocratic autocracies, or Sheikhdoms, of the Gulf and most of the Arab countries where freedom of speech and expression is conspicuous by its absence. Lockdown of mosques hasn’t been challenged anywhere in the Arab world—or if it was that news hasn’t been allowed to get on to the air. Arab potentates don’t lose a sweat over protests of any kind by their muted subjects.
But Pakistan is not only a democracy but a polity free in the absolute sense of the term. Pakistanis couldn’t be expected to take the lockdown of their mosques meekly or lump it without murmur.
Opposition to this edict of the government has been most pronounced and robustly vibrant in the heart of the government in Islamabad. The pesky maulvi Abdul Aziz—notorious for his antics and a known curmudgeon—has defied the ban, and so far without any retribution or pay-back.
It was hardly a coincidence that a day before the Karachi announcement by respectable clerics, a motley crowd of some very rowdy ‘leaders’ of at least 50 Arabi madrassas, assembled under the aegis of Maulana Abdul Aziz of Islamabad’s Lal Masjid and brazenly put the government on notice that they will not be bound by the lockdown stricture imposed on their mosques and seminaries and will observe the law in its open defiance. Those knowing Abdul Aziz and his ilk wouldn’t be taking out a bet on the law winning against the rabble-rousing clerics represented at the Islamabad conclave.
Those taking on the government edict in Karachi do, most certainly, carry more heft and gravitas. Their followers are a lot more civilized and disciplined, too. Trying to put the stereotyped healthcare doubts and misgivings to rest, the Karachi clerics sounded perfectly cooperative, affirming for the record that they would be observing the protocol of precautions and preventive measures in full. According to them, there will be no carpeting covering the mosque floors, which, in turn, will be washed after every prayer. Masks and other perquisites mandated by way of preventive measures will be strictly observed.
It seems, once again, IK and his team have been caught napping in as far as anticipating the response of the clergy to lockdown of mosques and other places of worship was concerned.
It shouldn’t be a brain-teaser to any educated and informed mind to anticipate what kind of response, or backlash, there would be from the clergy to a law enforced any mosques in a society like Pakistan. It’s not that Pakistan is an Islamic polity. No, it isn’t, not by a long stretch. There are 200 million plus Muslims in Pakistan but not much of Islam could be found in their lives, or the way they think and behave. Had Islam been their guiding soul, it wouldn’t be a bone-corrupt and annoyingly undisciplined nation.
And yet, at least those who claim to lead Pakistan shouldn’t suffer from any wishful thinking that they could get away with a ban on prayer gatherings in mosques. Islam has been used as a slogan all through the lifespan of the country, right up to this point. The Pakistani Islam is all about rituals and so little about its pristine ethos or spirit or molding character. It’s a cake-walk for any maulvi, or rabble-rouser speaker to get up and remind their audience that in the Islamic Republic of Pakistan they cannot go their mosque because of the pandemic. Sophistry in the hands of a fired-up cleric is, and has always been, a very handy tool to arouse raw religious passion in his audience.
Caught off guard, IK’s government has, mercifully, scrambled quickly to the surprise sprung on it by the power of the clergy. The Minister of Religious Affairs in IK’s cabinet, Noorul Haq Qadri, said that his government will come up with a ‘national policy’ on the issue by April 18, when all four provincial CMs and the head of Azad Kashmir government, would put their heads together to formulate a national consensus on this affair. The Minister promised that the impending Ramadan will see worshippers gathering at mosques, “protected” from the virus. Let’s hope his words are adequately reflected into a policy that holds good and serves the people as promised.
IK has had his plate already full of problems and challenges spawned by this blighted pandemic. He could ill-afford to take on any more. The crafty clerics—seasoned in their art of raising the public temperature at their will—have thrown at him a gauntlet that is going to test his skills to the hilt. The power of the pulpit has its own spell-binding magic in Pakistan. - K_K_ghori@hotmail.com
(The author is a former ambassador and career diplomat)