The Lamp Rubbed Dull, the Cartridge Spent
By M. A. Sajid
In the Arabian Nights, Aladdin retrieves a humble lamp from the darkness of a cave. A gentle rub of the hand and a towering genie appears, granting the master’s every wish before he has finished voicing it. For centuries the lamp has stood for the impossible made effortless. In our politics, however, the lamp was never found in a cave; it has always lived in the conjurer’s bag. And it has been rubbed so often that neither genie nor magic remains. What the audience is left holding is a scuffed vessel, much like a spent cartridge: the casing intact, the powder long gone.
Every era of our political history has fashioned a fresh lamp for the public. At one time it was roti, kapra aur makan, rubbed in the hope of summoning prosperity into the poorest neighbourhoods. At another, the glitter of the “Asian Tiger” and the sweep of new motorways dazzled the eye. Later still, “change” and “Naya Pakistan” were held aloft as the lamp of the hour. Those who have waited for decades for clean water, affordable electricity and inexpensive justice took heart each time at the new shine, convinced that this time the rub had been true. But once the election season had passed and the homa, the fabled bird whose shadow is said to crown kings, had settled on another head, no genie of progress emerged. In its place stood the price of petrol, back-breaking inflation, overflowing drains and the spectre of IMF conditions.
Today’s predicament is graver still, for the crisis is no longer merely of the economy but of credibility and trust. The public has learnt a great deal from repeated disappointment. The old slogans, the well-worn narratives and the stale speeches that once kept politicians afloat have lost their worth. A lamp rubbed at every election is bound to lose its lustre. People have begun to suspect that behind the dazzling slogans there is seldom any sober planning, only the appetite for power and the guarding of private interest. Load a spent cartridge back into the chamber and squeeze the trigger, and all you will hear is a lifeless click. The quarry stays exactly where it was.
The elite and those who wield real power would do well to read the writing on the wall: the public can no longer be soothed with sugar-coated dreams. The country has arrived at a point where hollow reassurances and promises of miraculous fixes have no room left to breathe. If we are to climb out of this quagmire of crises, we must stop leaning on old lamps and take up truth, transparency and genuine reform. Until political parties turn serious, and give up the habit of repackaging spent cartridges as fresh ammunition, the smoke of despair will not lift. It is time to shut down this bazaar of political conjuring, face the facts on the ground, and move on.
About the author
M. A. Sajid is a researcher of Islamic studies associated with the Kareemi Library & Research Centre.