To paraphrase the late and largely unlamented Donald Rumsfeld, there are known knows – things we know we know. Then there are known unknowns, things we know we don’t know. But there are also unknown unknowns, things we don’t even know that we don’t know.
For example, we know that we know that a deal has been signed between the government and the (as of now) banned/ proscribed TLP. We know this because Mufti Muneeb, who has come a long way from his moon-sighting days, announced this while flanked by the foreign Minister Shah Mahmood Qureshi, thus lending the proclamation a stamp of official approval. We also know that we know that the Army chief played a role in this, meeting as he did with Mufti Muneeb, Aqeel karim Dedhi (who seems to have transitioned from brokering stocks to brokering peace) and others, but we know that we don’t know exactly what that role was.
We also know that we don’t know what the deal actually entails, shrouded as it is in the kind of secrecy usually accorded to state secrets.
Beyond this, there is nothing but confusion: Mufti Muneeb, hot from his press conference, went on to accuse the government of lying about the condition regarding the French Ambassador in the previous deal with the TLP with no response from a government otherwise eager to label anything and everything fake news (note: the condition is right there on the agreement in black and white and was signed off by Shaikh Rasheed himself. The usual mouthpieces, otherwise so eager to hold forth on any issue at hand, were not seen waving said agreement in press conferences to prove the Mufti wrong.
It gets better: a few days back Senator Faisal Vawda actually declared on a talk show that the Prime Minister himself was unaware of the details of that deal. With all this, you can understand why we can safely ignore the unknown unknowns for now.
We see that the writ of the state, a cliché if there ever was one, is only to be implemented against those who cannot fight back, be they protesting doctors or nurses or activists who can do little more than tweet.
Zarrar Khuhro
Given the bombastic statements from federal ministers just a few days back, alleging Indian support for the TLP and labelling it a militant organization, and then the stern and eloquently crafted tweets from the National Security Adviser, the sudden deal ranks as perhaps the quickest, albeit least surprising, U-turn in the history of a government famed for U-turns.
It is unsurprising because the fact is that those running this government don’t quite have the moral authority to challenge the TLP’s narrative, given that they themselves eagerly weaponized that narrative against their political opponents. Since then, they have indeed tried very hard to gain ownership of said narrative through ostentatious and largely performative public displays of piety, in a painfully desperate attempt to depict themselves as protectors of Islam in a country where Islam is under no conceivable threat.
Is it any surprise that the rank and file of the TLP, and possibly the public at large, sees through the sham?
We see a government that will ‘Absolutely Not’ be blackmailed by Hazara protesters sitting on cold streets with their dead, but will absolutely bend to a display of naked power amplified by presumed piety. We see a Prime Minister who will ‘Absolutely Not’ give an NRO to political opponents but will absolutely preside over repeated deals with a party his own government functionaries have, at various times, dubbed militant and proscribed. We see that the writ of the state, a cliché if there ever was one, is only to be implemented against those who cannot fight back, be they protesting doctors or nurses or activists who can do little more than tweet. For these, in the immortal words of Sheikh Rasheed, tear gas is to be tested just in case it has expired and lost its potency.
We see, in simple terms, a state that is strong in the face of the weak, and weak in the face of the strong. Which is precisely why the TLP repeats this strategy time and again, because they know that it gains them more power and support each and every time. And why shouldn’t it? Consider their foot soldiers, hailing as they do from a class that is, like much of Pakistan’s population, marginalized and often victimized by the levers of the state – ranging from beat cops on the streets to officious bureaucrats and extractive institutions. Now, with strength in numbers and fueled by uncompromising faith, they see those very levers crumble before them. Who in their right mind would give that up?
The lesson here is that if you have the capability to paralyze the heartland of Pakistan, the state will bow to you. The lesson here is that short-term expedience will always come at the cost of long-term damage, and that the TLP, baptized time and again by the state’s surrender, will only, inevitably, gain strength while others watch and learn. And this is something that we know we know.
- Zarrar Khuhro is a Pakistani journalist who has worked extensively in both the print and electronic media industry. He is currently hosting a talk show on Dawn News. Twitter: @ZarrarKhuhro







