Actually, what these slogans are supposed to mean is that the masses should be allowed the free option to choose how their affairs should be managed and by whom. They, therefore, elect their representatives for the parliament to make laws for their welfare. Among several contenders, therefore, the one who commands the trust of the majority of people wins the right to represent them.
In countries where the democratic system is well entrenched, such elected representatives remain in touch with their consequents establishing a two-way communication. But in such countries if a political party is unable to get what it wants from the government, it does not often mobilize the people to take to the streets. And, even when people do come out to vent their feelings for or against any cause, they do so in a beautifully orderly fashion. The huge anti-war protests across the world during the Bush era and the latest protest at the G-20 conference in UK are examples.
London witnessed huge anti-war rallies with thousands of people. But no tyres were burnt on the roads. No shops were forced to close. No traffic was disrupted. No property, public or private was vandalized and no banks were torched. Violent protests, where all these things happen in a more virulent form, are peculiar to the sub-continent. In Pakistan and Bangladesh they are at their worst. Hitherto, though, mass protests of a violent nature have been ignited and led by political parties on political issues.
The people of Pakistan gave a demonstration of what people power really means, when they went to the polls in February 2008 and elected their representatives to the national and provincial assemblies. There was no breach of the peace. The change from dictatorship to democracy was effected peacefully. It seemed people had politically matured to refurbish Pakistan's image before the world. The next occasion for a healthy demonstration of peoples' power was the movement to restore Chief Justice Iftikhar Mohammad Chaudhry to his office. Though it was spearheaded by the lawyers, but political parties lent it their active support. Followers of the political parties swelled the ranks of the protesters and it became a sort of mass movement till the government fell on its knees.
When that happened, it looked like a good augury. Here was an honest purpose achieved without any violence. But, alas, the feeling of satisfaction it generated was short-lived. With the sense of power taking hold of their minds, the very people who had so long displayed an ideally peaceful and disciplined attitude, suddenly went wild.
It seems as if they assumed 'power' to mean the license to do whatever they wish, including things illegal. When the lawyers were agitating for Chaudhry Iftikhar's restoration, they attracted the spontaneous support of the people because it was a just cause. But, having won their battle, the upholders of the law turned it into the law of the jungle.
Lahore witnessed a display of this newly acquired power in the ugly scenes when lawyers, attired in their black coats assaulted a police officer on the premises of the Sessions court. And when the incident was telecast, the next day they roughed up the TV reporter and smashed the camera of the photographer, who had dared expose their rowdy behaviour. The lawyers, some of whom could expect to be elevated to the bench and administer justice were, themselves, resorting to criminal acts. Here was an example of 'power to the people' having turned into power to disrupt.
However, although the intoxication seems to have taken its full hold now–so they are unable to distinguish between right and wrong–the symptoms of the onset of this power mania that promotes the fascist tendency to assault dissenters, were visible earlier, even when their agitation was still in its infancy. At that time the lawyers fell upon Sher Afgan Niazi, Ahmad Raza Qasuri and Farooq Sattar.
The shameful incident of Gojra is yet another example of 'people power' gone berserk. This was a well-planned attack on the local Christian community. Eight Christians were burnt alive, forty homes and two churches were burnt. The excuse was the allegation that “three Christians had been seen desecrating pages of the Holy Quran.”
If the allegation was true, although in many cases such accusation has been found to have been leveled against Christians with malafide intent, the normal course was, either to bring the matter to the notice of the elders of the Christian community or, to report the culprits to the law. Instead the people decided to demonstrate their power to judge and award collective punishment to the entire community for the alleged fault of a few.
Ironically, no denouncement came from any religious leader. Nothing that the mob did had any sanction in Islam. The Christians who were burnt alive were not even the ones who had been blamed for desecrating the Quran. And even if they were the culprits, Islam would not allow them to be burnt alive; nor would Islam countenance burning or otherwise vandalising other people's places of worship. By failing to condemn the rank vandalism, the religious leaders have become silent supporters of gangsters posing as religious zealots.
If Gojra was a case where religious leaders remained silent spectators to mobs running amuck, the scenes in the aftermath of Benazir Bhutto's assassination exemplified how political leaders made no attempt to rein in their jiyalas as they went on a wild spree of wanton destruction of property both private and public. What did it achieve? What was the purpose behind burning railway carriages or private cars, banks and so forth? And who ultimately paid for their restoration?
The money for repair and reconstruction of damaged or destroyed public property would have to come from the public exchequer, taxpayers' money. In other words, therefore, those who went on the destruction binge ultimately suffered for their stupidity. It is all the more ironic because it is the PPP government whose supporters unleashed the vandalism that has to make good the losses.
People's power, instead of being harnessed to the good of the masses and the country, seems to have been translated into power to disrupt and destroy. Finding that political mobs went free after their crime, other malcontents in the society have been emboldened to follow their example. Thus, after a severe rainfall electricity failed in Karachi, rowdy mobs stormed Karachi Electric Supply Company's offices, manhandled KESC staff working on repairs, blocked road and rail traffic, burned private cars and set to fire several carriages in a railway train.
Strangely, there was nary a squeak of disapproval from any political leader! This is not the sign of a civilised society–a fact that Pakistan's leaders must realise. The situation cries out for urgent corrective steps. Allowed to drift, it might lead to disaster.