C O L U M N S

Now, instead of monkeys, imagine that the paper has no editor, that what you see on the front, back and editorial pages is the result of a free-for-all between various, hypothetical, camps at the paper.

So one day the readers are treated to the headline ‘Army has the answers’ and the story accompanying it rhapsodises about the Pakistan Army’s potential to transform this country from an almost-failing state into that much-dreamt-of Asian tiger.

Then the next day a banner headline declares ‘Liberal constitutional democracy is the way ahead’ and a long piece details the merits of the most liberal society on this planet and encourages Pakistanis to embrace that model. The story goes on to list the kind of liberal things that could potentially legally happen in Pakistan, things which would make even the most liberal of the self-styled liberals here queasy.

The wild swings in editorial policy are the result, we know, of the absence of an editor. But a reader who doesn’t know this will perhaps still try and make sense of it all and impose an explanation.

The paper must be trying to provide readers a menu of choices, she may say. The paper is trying to make sense of all that is out there, she may also say. But what she probably won’t guess is that her cherished newspaper of record has temporarily succumbed to anarchy.

The point isn’t about monkeys or Dawn, but about the role of chance in the real world and the often imperfect, incomplete and selective information we use to try and explain what is happening around us. The consequence is that often what we think we know, we really don’t know much about.

Consider Maulana Fazlullah and his band of militants who overran Swat and parts of its neighbouring districts. Who allowed them to become so powerful and why?

We know, and can guess, many of the principal actors involved: the Pakistan Army high command under Musharraf; the MMA government in place in the NWFP until 2007; the intelligence apparatus that serves primarily the army, but may also include so-called rogue elements; the militant networks in Fata, especially the Waziristan agencies, Bajaur and Mohmand; the Taliban across the border in Afghanistan; the post-February 2008 ANP-led provincial government; the PPP-led government at the centre.

But there could be more, unpredictable, factors. How about the lawyers and the judges who may have distracted Musharraf in 2007? How about India and intelligence about its activities that could have prevented an immediate full-fledged, large-scale military operation once the threat was severe enough? How about the Americans and their activities in Afghanistan that may have affected the calculations of the militants who move fluidly across the Pak-Afghan border about where to focus next?

How about the people of Swat themselves whose yearnings for speedy justice cloaked in a veneer of Islam made the area susceptible to Maulana Fazlullah’s sway? How about an unlikely and untested political leadership of the country wanting to avoid getting entangled in a war it would have little control over so that it could try and consolidate power elsewhere?

To my, outsider, knowledge it is difficult to know exactly what happened that allowed Swat to reach the point it did. But, worse, even for the people involved in shaping the fate of Swat they may not, indeed could not, have known everything that was happening or what precisely the other players were thinking or planning.

If the army had perfect knowledge, Maulana Fazlullah and his circle of top commanders would all be dead by now. There is also simply no way the politicians could have known precisely what the generals or the militants or the other, some regional, players were thinking. And the Americans, Indians, Afghans, militants and everyone else could not have known precisely what lay in the hearts of the generals and their intentions with regard to the civilian governments.

Imperfect, incomplete and selective information, however, surrounds one central, known fact: that Maulana Fazlullah and his militants were in charge of Swat. And since this was unacceptable to anyone who believes that the state is the only entity that can lay a rightful claim to such authority, the militants needed to be defeated.

But when it comes to knowing exactly what happened, how blame should (and it needs to) be apportioned, it is difficult to make a fair assessment on the basis of what is known.

Which brings me back to the media and its failings. While it is best placed to inform the public — indeed, readers and viewers turn to it to know what is happening in their country — it has collectively failed to tell the true story of Swat. Or of Waziristan. Or of the PML-N’s spectacular return to centre stage. Or of the banking crisis last autumn. Or of the federal government’s handling of the power crisis.

We do know important things. We know that powerful warlords were/are in control of Swat and Waziristan. We know that the PML-N is a popular party. We know that banks were close to the brink. We know that there isn’t enough electricity. But when it comes to knowing precisely what events, factors, institutions and individuals shaped these outcomes, we know very little.

So beware the temptation to believe anyone who says he knows. He may actually know. But until he tells you everything he knows and how he knows it, it could simply be opinion dressed up as fact.

Final thought: Gen Pasha, the ISI chief, has apparently invited India to deal directly with the army and the ISI and not just the civilian government, according to The Hindu. Forceful denials will no doubt follow. But this isn’t the first time Gen Pasha has been linked to impolitic suggestions. A spy chief should know better.

By Cyril Almeida