Loud political debate may sometimes hide more than it reveals
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scar Wilde [in The Importance of Being Earnest] said that “whenever people talk about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else.” One can similarly notice that whenever people in Pakistan talk about politics, they say something else. The Islamic Republic is one of the rare countries where talk shows on politics are aired on major TV channels during primetime hours. The viewing public prefers these heated, violent and passionate confrontations over soap operas, comedy programmes and or music videos.
As a result, almost every citizen has become a political commentator, an economic analyst or a foreign affairs expert in his/ her social circle – no matter if consists of office colleagues, members of kitty party, regulars at a roadside tea stall, or friends and followers on social networks. This reminds one of Umberto Eco’s observation on the effects of internet and social media sites: with the availability of these platforms, a man of limited intelligence, who never dared utter his opinions in a bar, is posting ludicrous comments with great confidence.
At some private gatherings, the main discussion revolves around political parties, national leaders, the country’s constitution, the electoral system, the parliamentary proceedings, among those who never made an effort to cast their votes or attended a political rally, took part in a candidate’s campaign or studied a party’s election manifesto/ programme. Yet they argue vehemently, loudly and aggressively in support of their favourite leader and insult the rest; or praise one clique of politicians while denouncing their foes. This is certainly the outcome of never missing political talk shows, even their repeat telecasts. Consequently the participants of tele-debates have attained the status of celebrities and icons, almost demigods for enthusiastic amateurs.
Almost every individual in our society is allured to this magic flute, perpetually emitting its scornful tunes. Many visual artists too - while at their workplaces, art schools, among friends and with family - spend more time and energy on sharing their information, insight, and their analysis of political situations than the matters of life or art. Late night parties transform into political forums with relentless argument, repeated assertions and loud abuse. It is miracle that they still end with warm adieus and promises to meet soon.
There are two sides to this pantomime. It is commendable that artists, who mostly remain courteous, cordial and careful when exchanging views at the inauguration of an exhibition or visiting a fellow practitioner’s studio, express their honest and candid opinions in front of their friends and contemporaries, even if on a subject that does not bring them together. In the earlier years of Pakistani art, artists used to fight among them, mostly over their positions on art. Violent verbal exchanges were a frequent sight at the opening of a show, or in the after-show evening. Some of the country’s most revered artists today had reportedly walked out of private get-to-gathers because of their sharp and unbending ideas; or were thrown out for their disagreeable views. Differences over art seemed to created insurmountable barriers between old pals, companions and members of a group.
Once artwork became a product, a commodity and a transactional good, artists turned timid. They now refrain from revealing their spontaneous reactions to a work of art, especially in front of its maker, not to offend them, or hamper their market; besides protecting themselves from such a treatment in future. Polite phrases, congratulatory remarks and warm wishes fill the air at an exhibition’s opening reception. Writers are no different.
Such incidents (including one when artist leaving the company of his buddies in the wee hours, was later found miles away, walking along the highway towards his hometown) were all about defending one’s concept and practice of art. Hence these are recalled with a touch of respect and a tint of fondness. Once artwork became a product, a commodity and a transactional good, artists turned timid. They now refrain from revealing their spontaneous reactions to a work of art, especially in front of its maker, not to offend them, or hamper their market; besides protecting themselves from such a treatment in future. Polite phrases, congratulatory remarks and warm wishes fill the air at an exhibition’s opening reception. Writers are no different. A majority of books on Pakistani art and regular reviews offer no more than introduction, analysis, contextualisation and comparison. Most lack in courageous criticism.
The residual energy shows up in a discussion on politics. Here, there is no monetary value at stake; thus a creative individual can be as vocal, forthcoming and ferocious as a curator, critic, collector, or a gallerist can be. Occasionally, in the guise of political conversation, the artists are debating other issues: their difference of talents, their dissimilar art practices, their uneven levels of recognition and their unequal success. Quarrelling around politics is possibly a substitute for addressing other crucial issues: the role of an artist in a society; an individual’s contribution through his/ her aesthetic output; the response of the public; the monopoly of galleries; the ethics of art criticism; and the power of collectors etc.
Talking about politics is useful, but not as much as addressing the issues at hand. Sometimes this evasive attitude seeps in their work too. The artists then skip a crucial part of art making: self-criticism. Hence one sees a production line, no more than upgrades of previous canvases, sculptures, drawings, miniatures and videos etc. In a way, what an artist desires deep down, comes to the surface, but enveloped in political concerns.
No sensitive person, like an artist, can ignore what is happening in their surroundings. It affects him/ her, no matter how far and removed they may be. The maker of visuals responds to these incidents by employing the language of images (following “the giver of life,” who according to a Mexican proverb, “writes with flowers.”) Some of the Pakistani artists who were vocal about these issues not only produced work with political content but also actively participated in protests, demonstrations and agitation. Some joined political parties or resistance groups. Ijaz-ul Hassan’s paintings about the Vietnam War portray the artist’s firm stand on American imperialism. So does his later work addressing police terror. He also painted images of genocide in Kashmir and the state’s subjugation of its citizens. The painter does not use politics as a motif, or a means of attracting international buyers. He was a member of one of the main political parties of the country, worked with trade unions and was a part of the movement against the military dictatorship. He contested general elections and for a certain period was the secretary-general of his party’s Punjab chapter.
AR Nagori, too, was vocal against military rule. His paintings openly reflect his views. Scarecrows with peaked caps and an alliance of mullahs and the military are recurring subjects in his work. A number of female artists, including Salima Hashmi, reacted against a patriarchal military regime through street protests as well as in their art. Likewise, Lala Rukh, active in feminist politics and a founding member of Women Action Forum, joined demonstrations to denounce discriminatory and draconian laws against women, and produced posters depicting her political stance (some of these were exhibited posthumously in the Documenta 14).
For some artists, the political themes, references and visuals serve to introduce a new element in their work, so that it aligns with the current discourse and seems valid in a global context, actually the international market. For those who never bothered to cast their votes or went to a political meeting, let alone join a political party, including politically charged themes in their work is not dissimilar to the behaviour of lay citizenry in Pakistan, who start talking about politics when they don’t have anything else to say.
The writer is an art critic, a curator and a professor at the School of Visual Arts and Design, Beaconhouse National University, Lahore.