A little over sixty years ago the American troops marching towards the Arc D Triomphe on Champs Elysees after liberating Paris were greeted by the cheers of the Parisians. The Parisians cheered, for they realized the sacrifices of the Americans who were fighting the war to bring peace not just to their own land, rather to the world entire. Compare that with the images from the year 2001, of a few hundred Pakistanis at Jacobabad in the Sindh province of Pakistan throwing stones, protesting against the United States using their airbases during the war on terror. It is ironical that while the intent of the US forces was to attain world peace, the responses of the public were quite contradictory.
Public sentiments can be swayed with a simple weapon of mass influence which President Obama has so effectively used since days much before he started his campaign. That weapon is “Good PR”. PR forms the core of any engagement; more than winning hearts it’s about winning minds and making people look at things the way you want them to. While we have to accept that the stern policy the United States has adopted in Pakistan was due to the prevailing situations in the region, the drone attacks have not helped the United States win many friends. The popular sentiment in Pakistan is not favorable towards Washington DC and many are of the opinion that the Taliban is a monster that escaped from an American research lab wreaking havoc on the people of Pakistan. Secretary Clinton’s warning to Islamabad though necessary has further confirmed the fear of many that their nation is being influenced and destabilized by external powers. With Pakistan getting back to democratic ways, it is important that US wins over the people who were instrumental in the return of democracy.
People wield power - Iran is a classic example of what might be the consequences of pleasing just the King, while disregarding the sentiments of the masses. And to ensure that the new government of Pakistan does not lose out on the support of its people, prompting another military takeover, the United States would need to adopt a “praise in public, punish in private” approach. If the drone attacks are indeed meeting their objective, effort needs to be made to publish the list of militants that the mission accomplished in eliminating. While the world sees the great lengths the US is going to achieve peace on earth, the message reaching the common folk in Pakistan maybe somewhat skewed; it is imperative therefore to reach out to the public with the right message. There is a thin line between propaganda and “good PR”; the effort to win the hearts and minds of the Pakistanis in my opinion would be well within the limits of “good PR”.
The key is to feed the Pakistani patriotism, while not appearing to be a threat to the country and that can be achieved by letting the Pakistani Army take the spotlight in fighting the belligerents, while Washington works out the plans in the war room. The US can ill-afford to look vigilante by carrying out attacks that draw condemnation from Islamabad. That day at Champs Elysees US infantry ensured that it got the most cheers it could have garnered by letting the French 2nd Armored division lead the march though both had fought shoulder to shoulder, clearly sending the message that, “it was your war and we just helped” instead of making it look like “it was our war and we dragged you into it”.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
A challenge of alphabetical proportions
Literature has never been my forte. And learning the language has been an arduous task for me right from Kinder Garten. While numbers were as clear as crystal, alphabets were as esoteric as the Mayan carvings on pyramids. I however have been a fighter and for that very reason I had torn out the page that contained the word "quit" from the first dictionary I ever owned. However it is necessary for the fighter to know the problems he is up against.
I don't know any fighter who became a hero overnight, another key to the success of a fighter is years of tempering from numerous battles. In my effort to learn the language I had to go through many such struggles. The first one being a broken arm when I was two, which led me to the radiology department of the hospital. The monstrous equipments in the lab like spacecrafts from outer space triggered the lachrymal glands near my eyes initiating a quick consolation from my doctor- "That's just a harmless X-Ray machine!". What was to the world "X-Ray", to me was just "Ra". That should have made it obvious that I was different and needed help and an early diagnosis would have made my life easier, however I do not blame anyone - many two year olds are known to invent their own vocabulary and creativity has always been a much sought after virtue.
I continued to work on my vocabulary and was a constant source of entertainment for people around me, which may have been the reason why no one made a serious effort to correct me. No one really paid attention to the fact that while "Teleision" and "Ashing mashing" were names I had invented, I could say "Refrigerator" with relative ease.
It was only in Kinder Garten that everyone started getting worried A - was for Apple, and B was for Ball, C was for Cat and D was for Dog, even E was for Elephant, but F was either Fat or Fo. As the "X" was getting silenced my teacher was being blamed for leaving the French grammar books within the reach of kids. My teacher was however absolved of the charges when it was found that Q was for Keen and not Queen.
Soon everyone started to hate me, for I could hear people muttering "dislike" in hushed tones, whenever I passed by - It was only in the later years that I realized that they were saying "dyslexic". Many paediatricians tried and failed to help me learn. An old lady who was a neighbor blamed it on the effect of the drum-stick tree we had in our home. "Vetaals (evil spirits) were known to reside on drum-stick trees" she said. And as this seemed to be a more acceptable idea to my family as compared to the idea of burning a cube of camphor on my tongue (as suggested by a distant relative who took pity on my condition -and decided to make it worse. Sigh!) the tree was at once brought down. It was a Sunday morning and we decided to celebrate the vanquish of the Vetaal by visiting the zoo. It was a hot day and there seemed to be no end to the number of animals in the zoo, though the canine family was in quarantine because of an epidemic of some sort. It was decided to check the results of operation Vetaal. I was asked to identify the animals to see how well I recognized them I said "Lion", "Tigrrrrrr hehe!", "Eagle", "Parakeet", "Crocodile", "Ant-elope", "Sloth Bear", "Bintorong", "Gorilla", "Crane", "Bison". The mercury kept rising and we came to an enclosure whose board had been defaced with a graffiti I shouted "Otter!", "Otter!" my family looked at the enclosure which had water but saw no otter. My screams of "otter!" went on unabated when a small head bobbed out of the water, soon many heads followed - we were looking at a whole colony of Otters.
There was excitement all around me, I bombarded with pecks on my cheek, while the Vetaal, was being cursed for having hindered the progress of a prodigy who seemed to have an uncanny ability to sense the unseen. I went on saying "Otter!" and was showered with more pecks. We moved on from the enclosure that housed the otters and we saw Macaques, Rhinos, Hippopotamus, Opossums, Porcupines and everywhere I said "Otter" and broke into a chant! Luckily the pecks ceased, which was a relief. At the Kangaroo enclosure I fainted. For what happened next I have heard many versions my first cousin said he made me smell his shoes, while my neighbors son said he spat on my face, I will go by my granny's version that we were helped by some medical students who happened to be around. The doctor had said I had suffered dehydration due to the heat and humidity and the family spoke out in unison "Water!".
Everyone now seemed concur on the threory about the problem I had, however it had to be scientifically verified. An uncle studying psychology who happened to be visiting us that time devised a series of tests for me and patterns began to emerge. "Quick" was "Qick" (pronounced Kick), "Van" was "An", "Wolf" was "Ofl", "Fox" was "Fo", "Yellow" was "Ello" and "Zebra" was "Ebra". The problem had been found - "In my journey from A to Z, I would always get stuck on T !".
Andy
I don't know any fighter who became a hero overnight, another key to the success of a fighter is years of tempering from numerous battles. In my effort to learn the language I had to go through many such struggles. The first one being a broken arm when I was two, which led me to the radiology department of the hospital. The monstrous equipments in the lab like spacecrafts from outer space triggered the lachrymal glands near my eyes initiating a quick consolation from my doctor- "That's just a harmless X-Ray machine!". What was to the world "X-Ray", to me was just "Ra". That should have made it obvious that I was different and needed help and an early diagnosis would have made my life easier, however I do not blame anyone - many two year olds are known to invent their own vocabulary and creativity has always been a much sought after virtue.
I continued to work on my vocabulary and was a constant source of entertainment for people around me, which may have been the reason why no one made a serious effort to correct me. No one really paid attention to the fact that while "Teleision" and "Ashing mashing" were names I had invented, I could say "Refrigerator" with relative ease.
It was only in Kinder Garten that everyone started getting worried A - was for Apple, and B was for Ball, C was for Cat and D was for Dog, even E was for Elephant, but F was either Fat or Fo. As the "X" was getting silenced my teacher was being blamed for leaving the French grammar books within the reach of kids. My teacher was however absolved of the charges when it was found that Q was for Keen and not Queen.
Soon everyone started to hate me, for I could hear people muttering "dislike" in hushed tones, whenever I passed by - It was only in the later years that I realized that they were saying "dyslexic". Many paediatricians tried and failed to help me learn. An old lady who was a neighbor blamed it on the effect of the drum-stick tree we had in our home. "Vetaals (evil spirits) were known to reside on drum-stick trees" she said. And as this seemed to be a more acceptable idea to my family as compared to the idea of burning a cube of camphor on my tongue (as suggested by a distant relative who took pity on my condition -and decided to make it worse. Sigh!) the tree was at once brought down. It was a Sunday morning and we decided to celebrate the vanquish of the Vetaal by visiting the zoo. It was a hot day and there seemed to be no end to the number of animals in the zoo, though the canine family was in quarantine because of an epidemic of some sort. It was decided to check the results of operation Vetaal. I was asked to identify the animals to see how well I recognized them I said "Lion", "Tigrrrrrr hehe!", "Eagle", "Parakeet", "Crocodile", "Ant-elope", "Sloth Bear", "Bintorong", "Gorilla", "Crane", "Bison". The mercury kept rising and we came to an enclosure whose board had been defaced with a graffiti I shouted "Otter!", "Otter!" my family looked at the enclosure which had water but saw no otter. My screams of "otter!" went on unabated when a small head bobbed out of the water, soon many heads followed - we were looking at a whole colony of Otters.
There was excitement all around me, I bombarded with pecks on my cheek, while the Vetaal, was being cursed for having hindered the progress of a prodigy who seemed to have an uncanny ability to sense the unseen. I went on saying "Otter!" and was showered with more pecks. We moved on from the enclosure that housed the otters and we saw Macaques, Rhinos, Hippopotamus, Opossums, Porcupines and everywhere I said "Otter" and broke into a chant! Luckily the pecks ceased, which was a relief. At the Kangaroo enclosure I fainted. For what happened next I have heard many versions my first cousin said he made me smell his shoes, while my neighbors son said he spat on my face, I will go by my granny's version that we were helped by some medical students who happened to be around. The doctor had said I had suffered dehydration due to the heat and humidity and the family spoke out in unison "Water!".
Everyone now seemed concur on the threory about the problem I had, however it had to be scientifically verified. An uncle studying psychology who happened to be visiting us that time devised a series of tests for me and patterns began to emerge. "Quick" was "Qick" (pronounced Kick), "Van" was "An", "Wolf" was "Ofl", "Fox" was "Fo", "Yellow" was "Ello" and "Zebra" was "Ebra". The problem had been found - "In my journey from A to Z, I would always get stuck on T !".
Andy
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