Declan Walsh

Who is without sin in the city of my beloved
– Go Forth in the Streets Today in Your Fetters
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

On my last night in Pakistan, the angels come to spirit me away.
It is a balmy summer evening in Lahore, the ancient city of Mughal splendour, down by the border with India. Lying on my bed in the Avari, Lahore’s grandest hotel, I stare at the ceiling and listen. Sounds of jubilation drift in: honks, hoots and cries; the urgent stampede of hundreds of feet. An historic election is under way, the kind that promises to reshape the destiny of a nation, and this is the street music of democracy, Pakistani style. Tens of millions of people have voted, forming impatient lines or elbowing their way into polling stations across this vast country, from the twinkling, snow-dusted Himalayas to muggy villages on the Arabian Sea. Here in Lahore, as the sun dips low, the most fervent citizens are parading down the Mall, the city’s elegant tree-lined boulevard. They pass under my window – men tottering on cheap motorbikes, three to a seat, or scampering past on foot, waving placards emblazoned with images of cricket bats, tigers and arrows – symbols that help illiterate voters identify their chosen party.

But the triumph of the day transcends any one party. For the first time in Pakistan’s history, an elected, civilian-led government has completed its term of office, and is about to hand power to another one. It might seem a small achievement, but in Pakistan it is stupendously good news. For sixty years, Pakistani leaders have departed power in handcuffs or coffins, expelled by military coups, rigged votes or lurid assassinations. A relatively clean vote: this is novel. Across town at the home of a well-known lawyer, my Pakistani friends are glued to the TV, exhilarated witnesses of history in motion, trading gossip and sipping bootleg Scotch. I wish I could join them. But I can’t.