A peaceful rise, so why the gun under the table?

Modern China presents a relaxed image to the World…reality could be somewhat different

Every so often, great minds feel the need to say something about the strange sense of déjà vu it’s possible to get when we realize that something which happened in the past is revisiting us.  Mark Twain said ‘history doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme’ – which I quite like.  Harry S Truman added later,  ‘“The only thing new in the world is the history you do not know.”  Another I like is Karl Marx’s ‘history repeats itself, first as tragedy, then as farce’.

My favourite (although not about repetition) is Douglas Adams’s ‘In the bathtub of history, the truth is like the soap but twice as hard to get hold of’.

Quite a few years ago, I read Henry Kamen’s ‘Spain’s Road to Empire’, about the rise to global prominence of Spain.  His telling has it that the Spanish were hopeless colonists who didn’t benefit anything like as much as their bankers; had no chance of competing with the other colonial powers; rarely invested anything but were otherwise great adventurers even though they had the Italians do a lot of their sailing.

I mention this because one thing that stuck in my mind was this. After removing the last vestige of Muslim rule from Spain in 1492, the great Catholic monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella sent a number of regiments (called Tercio in Spanish) to Italy. This was looking after their interests because Spain had extensive territories in the peninsula. The country was a disunited collection of city states trying to expunge a large French military presence. Spain was welcomed with open arms because it was not France. The City States (at least the ones not loyal to Spain) imagined they could rid themselves of France, but gave no thought to what would happen with a large Spanish army camped outside their gates.

A century of Spanish influence, meddling and warfare later, a Spanish diplomat was able to complain “we are the most hated nation in the world”.

You can see this with regard to the US; initially feted in Europe and Asia because of it’s historic break with the British Empire, it’s freedom and self declared lack of interest in Empire. Now the US is, if not the most hated nation then it certainly does have a trust gap to contend with.

Now apply this to China.

The country insists that it wants a peaceful rise.  This can be tested by its current conduct toward its neighbours.  Whilst recovering Macau and Hong Kong from the Portugal and the UK was a necessary step, China continues to aggressively assert its dominance in the South China Sea.  China claims a vast area of that sea including waters that belong to Brunei, Vietnam and the Philippines.  In the case of Vietnam, going as far as sending a drilling rig into Vietnamese territorial waters.

Elsewhere China’s armed forces have regularly mounted incursions into India’s border zones, which China claims for itself.

Beside this, China rejects foreign concerns about human rights abuses and Tibet as ‘foreign interference’.  However, China reserves the right to interfere in the internal affairs of foreign states; attempting to control who does and does not see the Dalai Lama and foreign hosted cultural events because a participant questions China’s rights record.

This meddling is far more subtle than the demands made by Western countries but it is meddling nonetheless. I do not believe they are symptomatic of a ‘peaceful rise’.

On the wider front I suspect two states in particular will come to regret their dealings with China.

Pakistan has handed over the port of Gwadar to the Chinese to run, after China became concerned that the upgrading of that facility was proceeding too slowly.  Gwadar is important because of its place on the shore of the Arabian Sea.  A planned ‘Economic Corridor’ between the mutual border and Gwadar could cut days off the sea voyage to Western markets for its goods.

Back in December, UK Prime Minister David Cameron’s visit to China, as was noted at the time, contained special humiliation for Britain; with the Coalition Government desperate for investment in its expensive infrastructure projects the UK was forced to grovel in front of China.  Payback for the past, perhaps.

In both instances these measures smack of desperation.

Pakistan is an economic basket case and desperate for foreign money, largely reliant on hand outs to keep it going.  It needs a miracle to grow its economy to the point where most people can find private sector jobs with money to spend.  That just isn’t the case at the moment.  The private sector is simply unable to create jobs on the scale needed.  Pakistan’s population is growing all the time which generates further stress on Pakistan’s ability to absorb them into the workforce when they start looking for work.

Britain’s problem is a bit different.  It is a declining power desperate to keep the City of London as the world’s financial capital.  As it is, economic power appears to be shifting east.  London has to attract new users to its markets and trading floors if it is to remain relevant.  The biggest new player appears to be China.

In Pakistan, China has secured a Treaty Port.  A Treaty Port creates a stable environment for a country to do business within a territory often on preferential terms.  Their history is not a happy one.

The difficulty is that Treaty Ports give a foothold that can be hard to remove when national interests clash.  Eventually, the British East India Company ran the ports of Bombay, Madras and Calcutta became military strong points and provided a gateway to the British to conquer India.

The Chinese know their history and probably would never allow foreigners to have preferential agreements on running ports or trading facilities at any time in the future.  Nor, I suspect, would the United States.  I think Treaty Ports are born out of weakness or complacency by the host power.   The danger here is that giving another country such a strong foothold on their own territory, both countries risk their independence of action.

Humiliation and domination by foreigners still haunts China

China may well say it wants a peaceful rise, but historically speaking rising powers always get around to flexing their muscles. Some start sooner than others.  And that country is already throwing its weight around.  Whilst none of this is unique to China (we are all human, for better and for worse) none of it bodes well for the future of either country.

The streets are where it’s at

When I was a kid, I remember a couple of hawkers coming around my street selling vegetables, bread & pastries and paraffin, nails and other household stuff. I remember too the ‘rag’n’bone man’ yelling ‘aneeeyol’rag’boooooooone’ at the top of his voice. Often dodgy looking guys who would drive slowly so you could catch their attention and get rid of that old mattress, fridge and other junk you’ve been hoarding for twenty years.

Over the years they fell away as they retired or as supermarkets of one sort or another took their trade. The street fell silent too because of the aging population, fewer and fewer children made noise as they played football, cricket or just running and riding their bikes. Now (some might say) buffered by an over protective environment because of a fear of what can happen, they’ve found other things to do, the internet, TV and computer games;

When I moved to Pakistan, I had a shock. My street is full of life, every single day and up until darkness, there’s always something going on.

At the crack of dawn, it’s the minivans running around picking up children for school. Dozens of them fight their way through the narrow little streets of my colony hoovering up every last child on their list.

As I’m writing this, there’s a chap selling brooms, floor wipers and dusters from a bicycle that he’s pushing. He’s yelling at the top of his voice. If you hear a kazoo, it’s someone selling balloons, small toys and the like from a huge pole he carries on his shoulder.

In a few minutes the rubbish collectors, the kuray wallahs, will come through, collecting everyone’s rubbish by hand, dumping it onto the back of a donkey cart to be hand sorted later. This is done by families. You see men, women and their children carting rubbish bins, bags and all manner of refuse. These get to me because the children are destined to do this for the rest of their lives, they have no future and they don’t know it yet. They have no education and no chance.

Every so often you hear someone yelling “TV remote….” He’s selling TV remotes and small electrical goods. He might be riding a bicycle armed with a car battery and a small loudspeaker over which his recorded voice sounds like a warning of an alien invasion crossed with a DJ’s scratchmix.

Sometimes someone will come round to buy your old newspapers for recycling, or to sharpen your knives with his bicycle powered sharpener.

Sharp as a blade or your money back…or not. The mobile knife grinder

Then there are the fruit and vegetable wallahs, who come around each day yelling as far as I can tell “aloo, piyaaaaaaaazzzzzzz” or “kele, saib….” In distinctive ways. Just like the rag’n’bone man of my childhood. You can rarely get fruit and vegetables from the same seller, be it from a donkey cart or a roadside stall. They’re always separate. I have no idea why.

Schools regurgitate their charges after about 1:30PM, so the children some have relief from the brutal heat of the day. That said, they probably suffer enough in their classrooms, where cooking a chicken is easy enough…just put it in front of a window and the direct sunlight will brown and cook it perfectly.

That’s because schools often save on fuel by not using their generators during the frequent powercuts.

At around this time, the roads are choked with the minivans, cars and motorbikes bringing children home. After that, my street livens up with the shouts, cries and laughter of kids playing cricket, badminton, riding around on tricycles and bicycles or just chasing each other with their lollipops and icecreams…which they’ve got from a chap that pushes a cart selling traditional ice cream and lollipops.

Later they’re out in force playing street cricket, with bat in hand chasing the ball wherever it flies, into a front porch, down the street or behind them, directly into someone’s hands. You see all ages – toddlers, 9 year olds, teens and adults playing this. Pakistan is truly obsessed with the game.

In the early evening, you hear the various pedal pushers that sell branded ice cream from coolboxes mounted on tricycles or you’ll hear the chimes of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata played by popcorn wallahs, who sell the stuff I’d only ever seen in cinemas.

Live fire range…thgat is a fire in the box and that cart is wooden…selling roasted nuts in the street, that is a

In Winter you can get nuts, chickpeas, roasted sweetcorn or sweet potato (always sold by different wallahs) roasted and cooked by a fire compartment mounted in the wooden handcart.

Others then sell what are called ‘jalabees’, eyewateringly sweet sugar sticks, but I haven’t seen them on my street.

Then there are the really unusual things you see only rarely.

All aboard…a definite size difference here

The two that stick in my mind would be the camel ride, for children. They get lifted onto the back of a camel and ride up and down the street at a leisurely pace. Trying to get a camel moving any faster is far easier said than done, they don’t take telling from anyone.

What are you lookin’ at, matey? I wouldn’t argue with this one either

And the snake charmer.

One afternoon, we heared some loud, strange flute. I asked my wife “what’s that?” When she replied, ‘I think it’s a snake charmer’ I lost control of my senses; becoming a little boy filled with wonder. I absolutely HAD to see this. I grabbed my phone to get a video of the guy and his snake.

I was so struck by this that I almost forgot to film it. I had never seen anything like it outside of a reptile tank in Britain.

On the other hand, some years ago, after driving through some streets to see the woman who would later do some cleaning for us, I looked in my rear view mirror as I slowed my car down. Darting across the road I spotted a mongoose, brown, looking like a large polecat or ferret. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen one.

(right NOW…the subsi wallah, vegetable man, is yelling “alooooo, piyaaaaaazzzz…”)

I live on an ordinary, suburban Pakistani street, not amazingly posh; a bit rough around the edges, perhaps. There are other places where the money is more obviously on display, but they are quieter, less characterful with less life. It feels human and alive. I prefer this and I wouldn’t be without it.

So cool, it’s hot

So that’s decided then. Britain is going to have hotter, dryer summers as climate change advances. At first you could be forgiven for finding the sun bed and a cool drink to say ‘I’m gonna enjoy this while I can’. And that’s ok, that’s perfectly natural when you’ve lived in some parts of Britain that haven’t seen the sun in generations.

As anyone from a hot country will tell you, you can only do that for so long before you end up looking like an over cooked beefburger. You need something for those moments when you’re not lying on the sunbed and the sun becomes an enemy to be feared and fought against.

Perhaps I can be of help. Let me present to you, the Shalwar Kameez,

I present, the Shalwar Kameez

all the way from Pakistan. Yes, Pakistan. The country may have struggled with it’s lot over the years, but Pakistanis are past masters at handling heat.

Handling heat, the Pakistani way…Labourers cooling off at a leaky hydrant

I’ve lived in Pakistan for five years. Five whole years. Let’s look at what that means. It means I’ve endured five summers here. Just think about that, five summers of heat in the early to mid forties Celsius. In Britain, we think if we get temperatures of 30° we’re having a heat wave. In Pakistan, that really is pretty cool.

Five years of power cuts – or loadshedding as energy rationing is called here – every few hours; this ranging from 20 hours a day just after the 2013 elections to just a few hours off during the month of December.

How does anyone cope? It’s in the clothes. In Punjab, the traditional dress is the sarong, which you do see from time to time in Lahore. Seeing big burly men wearing skirts when they’re standing outside their houses can take some getting used to. It’s a reminder that the world is anything but boring.

More famously, the other ‘traditional’ dress is the shalwar kameez. I put the word ‘traditional’ in quotes because the shalwar kameez isn’t traditional to this part of Pakistan; it’s a recent import. Though this misses the point.

The Shalwar Kameez is a remarkable item of dress. Depending on what cloth it’s made from, it can be tough, light, very smart, workmanlike, warm, cool; all of these and it gives more freedom to your body than anything else you can buy…except the famous British birthday suit.

First, the practicals. A shalwar kameez is a smock with a pair of baggy trousers. Just imagine Scrooge in the middle of the night, but a more colourful night shirt and something baggy to match – and that’s what you’ve got.

I wear a shalwar kameez all the time. Not the same one, you’ll be relieved to hear. I do have a few that I like to wash from time to time.

At its freest, it can feel like you’re not wearing anything. There’s no tightness in strategic places, there’s no restriction on how to move your limbs, apart from your muscles, joints and age.

If you’ve been sweating buckets, a breeze, ten minutes under the ceiling fan or (better still) the air conditioner can revive you. Your shalwar kameez actively helps this because it will cling to you to help the air get to the wet bits; it billows in the breeze to help direct the air to your, err, hotness.

If you’re working, it doesn’t get in your way. If you’re relaxing, you barely notice it.

The shalwar kameez scores in other ways too. You can have the boring “I don’t really like colours” look with some nice and drab browns, greys and olive greens. No one would ever notice you’re there.

If you like a bit of colour, that’s ok too, cos you can get some amazing colours and patterns to give even Picasso a headache. Pakistani designers really are that inventive.

Ignore the beard…the outfit is great for summer, smart, casual and formal

When you go to any formal occasion and the guests are wearing their shalwar kameezes, you know you’re under dressed if you’re wearing a collar and tie. On the other hand, if people are just chilling out (remember that forty odd degree heat, ‘chilling out’ is not just an Americanism) you know you’re over-dressed if you’re there in a T-shirt and jeans.

This one’s for the ladies…The designs for female shalwar kameez can be ‘wow!’ inducing

The baggy trousers and blousy shirt isn’t just a summer thing. You can get thicker cloth, heavy cotton and pure wool for example, to keep you warmer in winter. It does help to put something underneath it because that way you’re less likely to notice the chill in the weeks long Lahore winter.

That’s the beauty of the shalwar kameez, you can get away with it. You can wear as many layers as you need without looking and feeling like a spaceman in orbit. There are the textiles and colours to give you anything you could want, you just have to know where to look.

Why do I wear them? For all these reasons and because I find it an essential part of dressing for the climate. There really is nothing wrong with wearing a T-shirt and jeans, if you don’t mind sweating like a pig and having to wring your clothes out every few hours.

My experience is that as great as a T-shirt and jeans is, it’s great for a nice warm day in Europe not in the searing heat of high summer. In Pakistan, you can get jeans made from cloth so thin, you can almost see through it. But it’s still too much; too heavy, too restrictive, too tight – even after you’ve sweated off those extra kilos.

The final piece of evidence is this, when you’re out and about in your shalwar kameez, you can daydream about being in some far, distant country where they serve tea so milky it could’ve come out of the cow five minutes ago; where the tobacco is sold in ropes, not boring old cigarette packets and the idea of a good night out is cattle raiding in the next valley.

There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. I give you the Shalwar Kameez. An outfit for brutal summer heat, real freedom for your limbs and an active imagination. What else could you want?

Pots, kettles and calling each other black

One of the stranger things I noticed living in the UK was the sense people had of the country’s irredeemable corruption. Inspite of the enormous sums involved in US, French or developing world scandals, we Brits got it into our head that the UK was the most corrupt place on earth.

Perhaps that’s a result of being human and not travelling. The saying has it that ‘the grass is greener on the other side of the fence’. In many instances, this is said with very good reason,

One example is Mexico. There is a reason so many people brave a huge desert, a high & miles long fence, border guards and trigger happy vigilantes to get into the United States. I’m not sure it’s the lattés in Los Angeles or Houston.

I used to believe the idea that the UK’s way of doing things was fundamentally clean. Yes, I’ve heard of petty wrong doing at local government level in the UK, anyone involved in local politics will know of something the local press has turned a blind eye to that could put some puffed up local politico in the dumps, if not always in jail. But that’s just the point, it’s local, it’s often petty and it certainly does not involve everyone.

Then I moved to Pakistan and my views changed radically. What you see here is raw, naked, money grabbing thievery. No pretences, no beating about the bush. This is undisguised and brutal. Of course, everyone involved will deny it, nobody will admit to being corrupt. But everyone also knows that high ranking bureaucratic posts in government service are for sale. Police ranks, for example, are often for sale. You pay out a few hundred thousand rupees to get it. That means you have to find ways of recouping that money and making extra on top.

Omar Shahid Hamid’s The Prisoner is eye opening on this and other murky goings on within the police force of Karachi. This is without the dodgy politics, smuggling, tax dodging, foreign exchange scams and outright fraud that you can read about in the newspapers everyday of the week, often involving tens of millions of dollars.

What I’ve been forced to recognize is this: that corruption in the UK is far more sophisticated, low profile and disguised than it is in Pakistan. Publicly, you can have politicians losing office over a few hundred thousand pounds or getting fast track citizenship for their foreign migrant nanny.

You often have to stray into the financial pages of the media to pick up on the roll of UK financial scandals. And there are rather a lot of them.

For example, the London banking giant HSBC caught laundering money for the Mexican Sinaloa drugs cartel, fined $1 billion by the US Justice Department. The British bank Standard Chartered, discovered breaking international sanctions on Iran and North Korea. Later, a group of European (including British) banks were caught fixing the international bench mark interest rates (the Libor scandal) and now there have been allegations that foreign currency exchange rates have been fixed; both involving not billions of dollars but trillions. If this were cricket the players responsible would have gone to jail.

Add to this the ‘London Whale’ scandal involving J P Morgan Chase in the loss of six billion dollars on London trading floors and you’ve already got a a substantial charge sheet varying between dodgy dealing and outright criminality.

Except in Britain it’s not called criminality, it’s called a mistake, a technical infraction, a failure of oversight; anything but corruption.

Pakistan is listed in the Transparency International Perceptions of Corruption Index 2013 as being (alongside Russia) the 127th least corrupt country in the world, in a list of 177 nations. The UK is listed somewhere at No.14 in that list.

It strikes me that although fraud can feel like a national sport in Pakistan, corruption here lacks the sophistication, ambition, imagination and scale of British corruption. At least in Pakistan, people pretend not to have broken the law which means there are rules. In the UK, no-one has broken the law because so much of this is actually legal.

Afterall, it can’t be corrupt if it’s not illegal, right?

A revolving door isn’t just a revolving door. It refers to a minister or senior civil servant working in the private sector after they have worked in government, going on to use all their knowledge and contacts book for a directorship or a consultancy. It has been the source of a rash of scandals in the last ten years alone, although it’s been going on for at least the last three decades.

Maybe one could consider the buying and selling not only of titles such as peerages and knighthoods, but the buying of influence at the heart of government.

In Pakistan, all these things are an open secret, whilst in the UK its often dug up by investigative journalists. However, looking back at that Transparency International index, I wonder which really is the least corrupt or the better at hiding it.