Babu culture

To make a sweeping generalisation, we are a society that lacks compassion. I say this with good reason. And perhaps the most lacking in compassion are those that populate our government offices, be it federal or provincial. 

Suffice to say, the average Pakistani dreads visiting a government office, for they know they will most likely have to put up with rude, incompetent ‘officers’, who will demand their palms be sufficiently greased in order to get routine tasks accomplished. A colleague shared her nightmare with me recently, which convinced this writer that many in Pakistani officialdom get sick pleasure in mentally torturing the supplicants that meekly line up outside their offices.

The colleague in question recently lost her father. The death occurred in a foreign country and she and her elderly mother had to schlep from office to office to get pension/succession issues sorted out. Anyone who grew up watching Pakistani television in the 1980s and recalls the hit sitcom Office Office — penned by Anwar Maqsood and staring Jamshed Ansari — will know what I’m talking about. The thing is, the situations in the sitcom were hilarious; real-life encounters with Pakistani babus are hair-raising.

Now of course where issues of monetary nature are concerned, officials need to be careful as fraud is rife in our society, and they must be doubly sure that claims relating to pensions, bank accounts and property are legitimate. However, as my colleague described it, her ordeal was simply nightmarish.

The fact that someone has approached a government office after losing a loved one should ideally ensure that the applicant is dealt with in a compassionate and respectful manner. Not here. My colleague was given the run around and told to fill in umpteen forms, talk to numerous officials (with the saab concerned rarely being in his seat), and approach a plethora of departments in order to get her paperwork in order. Finally, her affairs were only sorted when a relative — himself a retired public servant — intervened and used his connections. Unfortunately, in Pakistan everything comes down to ‘source, jugadh, connections’ etc.

If you think this is an exaggeration, just take a look at pensioners waiting outside governments banks around the beginning of the month. This writer has witnessed serpentine queues outside government banks, with senior citizens made to receive their pensions in miserable conditions. In fact, any visit to the local thana, government office or department is an odious ordeal for the average citizen. Chances are you’ll be met with a foul-mouthed, paan/gutka chewing chap playing games on his mobile phone who couldn’t care less about your issue, even though it is your taxes that pay his salary. And chances are he’ll tell you saab is busy. And chances are saab will remain busy until the Day of Judgement, or until the chhota’s palms are greased in order to grant you an audience with saab. 

There are of course exceptions where honest civil servants go out of their way to help citizens, but these are few and far between — more the exception than the rule. Perhaps the quality and state of public servants reflects the state of our society: in free fall where morals, ethics and compassion go. Of course, the million-rupee question is: what can be done to change this sorry state of affairs? After all, the babu in Naya Pakistan is very much like the babu in Purana Pakistan: rude, crude and malicious.

The message that must be sent to the massive federal and provincial bureaucracy from the top is: citizens are to be dealt with respect and provided services as a right, as they are a taxpayer and must get returns for giving their hard-earned money to the government. The citizen is not a serf to be ridiculed and exploited. 

This needs to be followed up with action against delinquent officials and apparatchiks. If an official paid by the government to provide services to the people is found to be instead torturing and extorting the public, they must be given exemplary punishment. Remember, these people are in government service. The babus are not feudal lords receiving fervent appeals from the plebeians/citizens.

There must be zero tolerance for corruption and misbehaviour with the public. Of course, change must start from the top, and ministers, secretaries and senior bureaucrats must lead by example so that the message of public service has a trickle-down effect, all the way down to the government officials involved in public dealing. Thanas and other government offices must all be made model institutions, where the citizen comes first. 

All of this will not be easy to achieve, as the rot is decades old and very deep. However, if the Prime Minister is sincere in building Naya Pakistan, he must deliver the goods by at least attempting to change the bureaucracy, especially the lower tier that deals with the public. Naturally, there will be much resistance as government workers — particularly the bad eggs — will not change their attitudes easily and turn into servants of the populace overnight. 

But the government — federal as well as the provincial administrations — must be firm and start to change the rotten culture that pervades public service institutions. Start by inducting qualified individuals and end the horrendous mammay/chachay culture where tribe/sect/family links determine who gets the job. Induct the right person for the right job. Thereafter, maintain a system of checks and balances not unlike the corporate world, where good performance is rewarded, and negative behaviour is either fixed or punished. 

The grand steel frame in Pakistan inherited from the British is rusted and ready to crumble. Let the state build this edifice anew centred on the citizen and his/her requirements.

The writer is City Editor, Bol News