Imran’s naysayers censure him for doing too little in the political arena. They point out that if running a hospital of international standards was a yardstick to measure leadership, then perhaps Dr Adeebul Hasan Rizvi (founder of SIUT) deserves a stint at governorship, if nothing more.
Sounds like a fair point.
They do not tire of stressing that if winning cricket World Cups made one a statesman, then perhaps Ricky Ponting is twice the man for the job. Maybe we could import him too like Moeenuddin Qureshi and Shaukat Aziz?
Sounds justified, too.
Then, if not hospitals or World Cups, what really is Imran’s achievement, if any?
The answer lies in the Solonic ambit he has assumed, in reawakening the nation.
It rests in that reminder he served of Plato’s assertion: “One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.”
And his achievement becomes most evident when observed in the background of Iqbal’s predictions and the political history of the country's last four decades.
Iqbal, in Asrar-e-Khudi, relates a story of a pack of tigers who attack a complacent herd of sheep, the herd having grown fat and lazy by arrogating the abundance of vegetation. Wary of their downfall, as the tigers start hunting them down, a charlatan sheep assumes the role of a divine messenger, and starts preaching to the tigers.
He convinces the tigers their ways are faulty, and loathed by the Creator. He persuades the lords of the jungle to become vegetarian, to shun their mantle and to become like the sheep.
Assured of their own inadequacy, the tigers yielded to what they were inculcated. Thus was born the ‘Dunbon ka Sarkar’, and to the tigers was lost their rightful place.
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The tigers of Pakistan; the commoners with fire in the belly, the hardworking impoverished classes of the country; attacked the herds of the feudalistic elite sheep back in the '70s.
Not one but many sheep arose to defend the empires that they had built. Not one but many sermonised the people, swaying them against taking what was equitably theirs. Not one but many encaged the tigers.
The leader of this flock was a hypocritical impostor in a khaki garb.
A system was thus born; a system where none were hungry for eternal glory; a system where caving in to the whims of the sheep – in despondence or in complacency – was the expected practice; a system where tigers protected the sheep.
It wasn’t the lions of John Mills that were devouring us, it was the lazy sheep.
This system gave birth to creatures of unworthy stature, and thrust them to undeserving positions; a team of Shrek and Gollum, one fat and oafish the other sickly and duplicitous.
A slick vizier in the reflection of Jafar, together with a parrot and snake staff variously representing him at the helm, and strangely Abu the monkey, rebranding himself to affiliate with maternal lineage, in toe.
Then there were midgets, of all shapes and sizes – some imported; some usurping; some with muffled vocals and some with enough fat on their person to run a soap factory.
A few families stopped giving birth to any, but ministers.
If, in yesteryears, the emperors were preceded by a servant announcing their arrival, now there were tens of cars with whirling blue lights doing the same job.
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It was in this milieu that Imran came to the forefront. He is nihilistic and insolent. He is uncompromising, and arguably inexperienced.
But it is what he is not that makes him a quintessential Shaheen of Iqbal's. It is his lack of certain characteristics which endears him to the public so much.
He is neither venal nor nepotistic. He is not fickle, not deceptive, and not insecure in the presence of foreign leaders. He is unimpeachable in his public affairs.
Imran, whose name bears the same meaning as Iqbal’s – prosperity – may not be a social reformer, but he is certainly a social arouser. He epitomised Iqbal’s message in his persona and thus vindicated a promise that was made by the national poet. He reminded the nation that they can, and should stand up for integrity, for self-respect and for personal rights.
Rallying them together and reminding them of their worth was no mean feat – one that only the most determined of individuals could have undertaken.
Slowly, from their slumber, the tigers awoke. Their souls invigorated; their faith accomplished. They are now confident they can do what their parents undid.
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The tigers have shunned the religion of sheep. The effect of the witchcraft that had been cast upon them is finally waning. The journey of a droplet of water from a worthless existence to becoming a pearl has begun.
The people have taken upon themselves to destroy the idols of VIP culture; bring to an end the hereditary transfer of party leadership, defy accumulation of power in a few families, retrieve the worth of their vote; break the shackles asphyxiating their growth; shatter the chains that had held Pakistan hostage and escape the demons that never existed but in illusion.
They have vowed to be self-sufficient.
It is this vision of Pakistan, which has suddenly become possible in Imran’s stead; this mirage which does not seem so far away, that has my countrymen salivating.
It is for this reason that I, despite being one of his fiercest critics, had voted Imran once.
It is for this reason alone that I would vote Imran again.
