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Lost in Transition
By Mohammad A. Qadeer
Even as Pakistan’s urban centres grow in size and numbers and the lifestyles undergo a radical transformation, our social life and moral order remains steeped in rural traditions of the past — a contradiction which cannot be sustained for long if urbanites accept the Taliban’s ideology and vision of Islam, for it negates every aspect of the urban life as lived today
Almost everybody in Pakistan has been drawn into the urban way of life. With the exception of those living in the remote parts of the country, all others including those who ostensibly live in villages have been swept into the monetary economy, the division of labour, specialisation of occupations, mobility and access to radio as well as television. Our way of life has been more or less urbanised. This is how our ‘lived’ life has become but in our conceptions and in our moral notions (ideas of right and wrong) we remain, by and large, agrarian and tribal. It is particularly true of those demanding Islamic laws in general and the Taliban in particular. This contradiction in our lived versus imagined life is a source of many of our problems, not least in our politics.
A population density of 400 persons per square kilometre is the international criterion for defining an urban area. On the basis of this density criterion, large rural regions of the central Punjab, Peshawar valley and southern Sindh qualify as urban. If this population is added to those living in cities and towns, almost 60 per cent or more Pakistanis are living in urban environments. The evidence is all around us. Take a drive from Lahore to Khanewal, Gujarat, Sialkot or Sargodha, or from Karachi to Hyderabad and beyond or from Peshawar to Mardan or Attock. Houses will be seldom out of sight, with workshops and stores planted amid fields. Here the countryside looks like a stretched out suburb.
In addition to a majority living in the urban environment, millions of villagers and tribesmen have been migrating to cities. They not only spread urban influences into villages but also reinforce the rural moorings of social life in cities. All in all, the physical living conditions of Pakistanis have been largely urbanised. However, social life and the moral order lag behind and remain anchored to the rural traditions of the past. More than that, the public narrative continues to be steeped in agrarian values and institutions.
What does living in an urban environment mean and how does it affect everyday life? An urban area has a large population, high density and diversity of activities. These three characteristics have transformative effects on living conditions. First, the impersonalisation of human interaction becomes a necessity. For example, one can’t greet all those whom one comes across on a street or encounters in shops, there are just too many. Thus neighbours share a distant and cold relationship. Another example is that of women’s role which, in urban areas, takes them outside the home and necessitates their dealings with strangers. They have to shop, work and take children to schools or clinics because men, who are working far from home, are not around to do these chores.
Second, in urban settings one person’s well-being is indivisible from the wellbeing of others. Rats in my house are a threat of plague for my neighbours and vice versa. These interdependencies precipitate the need for collective goods such as public health, fire and building regulations, zoning by-laws, drains, water supply, property registration etc.
Third, the diversity of activities gives rise to different occupations and specialisation. The self-sufficiency of a rural household gives way to the market exchanges of goods and services in urban areas. A new community structure based on interlocking roles and complementary activities comes to characterise urban living.
The sum total of these imperatives of urban living is the need for a social order based on formal rules and laws, achievement rather than inheritance as the basis of reward and status, secular and impartial bureaucracy for decision making, trust, diversity and tolerance as social values. Such a social order has to be backed by a moral order that instils in the people respect for rules, merit, people’s rights and equality before the law.
Our moral compass, instead, is set at values such as clan loyalties, personalised dealings, status based on ancestry, gender inequality, authoritarianism, religiosity and distrust of persons who are not relatives. These values conflict with the demands of urban living. They impede the smooth functioning of social institutions and contribute to their corruption, nepotism, indiscipline and ineffectiveness. Our person-centred politics is steeped in these agrarian values.
The rise of the Taliban and Islamic extremists is another reassertion of the agrarian-tribal values in a society that has been urbanised. Their ideas of right and wrong are largely matters of personal behaviour, guided by notions of sin and piety and not values of collective welfare and social good. Their moral order is rooted in values that segregate and confine women, ban music and other aesthetic pleasures and uphold retributive justice and the dictatorship of Mullahs. Their ‘good’ social order is a system of controls over people’s everyday life.
Happiness and initiative are not the values to be pursued. Instead piety and conformity are the touchstones of a good community. Corruption is primarily the mixing of men and women and not bribery, black market or smuggling, for example. These values have been forged in a small, clannish and tribal social milieu.
Their application to urban areas will only produce misery and repression. In the long run they will lead to the breakdown of the social order and economic organisation. The imperatives of urban living necessitate a moral order based on impersonal rules and the differentiation of the private and public spheres of life.
The reasons for the spread of the Taliban are many, but one not recognised is the urbanisation of Pakistan’s social life. It has created a cultural lag between our material and moral order. There is a moral vacuum. Our social and economic life has been transformed, but we cling to the values of the rural past.
It is not a surprise that many educated Pakistanis look upon the Taliban’s social order as rightfully Islamic, even if their own life is almost a complete negation of this order. They do not see the contradiction in their ideals and reality and do not have the courage to own their own lifestyle. Unless our moral discourse consciously and deliberately recognises the reality of our lived urban life, we will continue to be increasingly racked by poverty, instability and terrorism.
Mohammad A. Qadeer is a professor emeritus at Queen’s University, Canada, and the author of ‘Pakistan-Social and Cultural Transformations of a Muslim Nation’
By Mohammad A. Qadeer
Even as Pakistan’s urban centres grow in size and numbers and the lifestyles undergo a radical transformation, our social life and moral order remains steeped in rural traditions of the past — a contradiction which cannot be sustained for long if urbanites accept the Taliban’s ideology and vision of Islam, for it negates every aspect of the urban life as lived today
Almost everybody in Pakistan has been drawn into the urban way of life. With the exception of those living in the remote parts of the country, all others including those who ostensibly live in villages have been swept into the monetary economy, the division of labour, specialisation of occupations, mobility and access to radio as well as television. Our way of life has been more or less urbanised. This is how our ‘lived’ life has become but in our conceptions and in our moral notions (ideas of right and wrong) we remain, by and large, agrarian and tribal. It is particularly true of those demanding Islamic laws in general and the Taliban in particular. This contradiction in our lived versus imagined life is a source of many of our problems, not least in our politics.
A population density of 400 persons per square kilometre is the international criterion for defining an urban area. On the basis of this density criterion, large rural regions of the central Punjab, Peshawar valley and southern Sindh qualify as urban. If this population is added to those living in cities and towns, almost 60 per cent or more Pakistanis are living in urban environments. The evidence is all around us. Take a drive from Lahore to Khanewal, Gujarat, Sialkot or Sargodha, or from Karachi to Hyderabad and beyond or from Peshawar to Mardan or Attock. Houses will be seldom out of sight, with workshops and stores planted amid fields. Here the countryside looks like a stretched out suburb.
In addition to a majority living in the urban environment, millions of villagers and tribesmen have been migrating to cities. They not only spread urban influences into villages but also reinforce the rural moorings of social life in cities. All in all, the physical living conditions of Pakistanis have been largely urbanised. However, social life and the moral order lag behind and remain anchored to the rural traditions of the past. More than that, the public narrative continues to be steeped in agrarian values and institutions.
What does living in an urban environment mean and how does it affect everyday life? An urban area has a large population, high density and diversity of activities. These three characteristics have transformative effects on living conditions. First, the impersonalisation of human interaction becomes a necessity. For example, one can’t greet all those whom one comes across on a street or encounters in shops, there are just too many. Thus neighbours share a distant and cold relationship. Another example is that of women’s role which, in urban areas, takes them outside the home and necessitates their dealings with strangers. They have to shop, work and take children to schools or clinics because men, who are working far from home, are not around to do these chores.
Second, in urban settings one person’s well-being is indivisible from the wellbeing of others. Rats in my house are a threat of plague for my neighbours and vice versa. These interdependencies precipitate the need for collective goods such as public health, fire and building regulations, zoning by-laws, drains, water supply, property registration etc.
Third, the diversity of activities gives rise to different occupations and specialisation. The self-sufficiency of a rural household gives way to the market exchanges of goods and services in urban areas. A new community structure based on interlocking roles and complementary activities comes to characterise urban living.
The sum total of these imperatives of urban living is the need for a social order based on formal rules and laws, achievement rather than inheritance as the basis of reward and status, secular and impartial bureaucracy for decision making, trust, diversity and tolerance as social values. Such a social order has to be backed by a moral order that instils in the people respect for rules, merit, people’s rights and equality before the law.
Our moral compass, instead, is set at values such as clan loyalties, personalised dealings, status based on ancestry, gender inequality, authoritarianism, religiosity and distrust of persons who are not relatives. These values conflict with the demands of urban living. They impede the smooth functioning of social institutions and contribute to their corruption, nepotism, indiscipline and ineffectiveness. Our person-centred politics is steeped in these agrarian values.
The rise of the Taliban and Islamic extremists is another reassertion of the agrarian-tribal values in a society that has been urbanised. Their ideas of right and wrong are largely matters of personal behaviour, guided by notions of sin and piety and not values of collective welfare and social good. Their moral order is rooted in values that segregate and confine women, ban music and other aesthetic pleasures and uphold retributive justice and the dictatorship of Mullahs. Their ‘good’ social order is a system of controls over people’s everyday life.
Happiness and initiative are not the values to be pursued. Instead piety and conformity are the touchstones of a good community. Corruption is primarily the mixing of men and women and not bribery, black market or smuggling, for example. These values have been forged in a small, clannish and tribal social milieu.
Their application to urban areas will only produce misery and repression. In the long run they will lead to the breakdown of the social order and economic organisation. The imperatives of urban living necessitate a moral order based on impersonal rules and the differentiation of the private and public spheres of life.
The reasons for the spread of the Taliban are many, but one not recognised is the urbanisation of Pakistan’s social life. It has created a cultural lag between our material and moral order. There is a moral vacuum. Our social and economic life has been transformed, but we cling to the values of the rural past.
It is not a surprise that many educated Pakistanis look upon the Taliban’s social order as rightfully Islamic, even if their own life is almost a complete negation of this order. They do not see the contradiction in their ideals and reality and do not have the courage to own their own lifestyle. Unless our moral discourse consciously and deliberately recognises the reality of our lived urban life, we will continue to be increasingly racked by poverty, instability and terrorism.
Mohammad A. Qadeer is a professor emeritus at Queen’s University, Canada, and the author of ‘Pakistan-Social and Cultural Transformations of a Muslim Nation’
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