Source/Credit: The Express Tribune
By George Fulton | August 17, 2011
The subject line read “Aamir Liaquat Exposed”. To be honest, I was reluctant to click open the link my friend sent. Having just eaten dinner, I was disinclined to see the good ‘doctor’ laid bare. My mind had wandered to far darker thoughts. Instead, when I eventually clicked the link I saw a video of Aamir Liaquat swearing away. A wave of relief and sympathy washed over me. Relief that it wasn’t the exposure I had imagined it to be, and a fleeting sympathy for the TV evangelist. But the sympathy only lasted a nanosecond, mind you.
Most of us have uttered curses that we would not wish to be made public. Locker-room chat that is acceptable with the boys is not something we would want repeated in front of our wives or mothers-in-law. But then again, most of us don’t propagate an air of piety, uttering gaalis whilst talking about verses from the Holy Scriptures. That is the galling hypocrisy of this unedifying incident. What really sticks in the throat is the man’s cynical disregard for the very same people he professes to love and care about. It was particularly odious to see him sniggering as a woman caller sought advice on the sensitive subject of the legality of suicide in the scenario of protecting a woman’s honour. The very same people who gave him his successare the very people his sniggering disrespects.
It’s fine to swear like a lafunga on a motorbike at Seaview. Less so if you have made millions projecting a holiness that has made you managing director of a television channel that broadcasts religious programmes and also a former minister of religious affairs — in effect, a powerful, rich and influential man.
So what does this religious man do when he’s caught being less than godly? Does he throw his hands up, apologise and confess his sins and ask for forgiveness? Hardly. No, the man with no shame instead compounded the mistake by brazenly lying to the people of Pakistan. Yes, the not-so-good doctor had the temerity to claim that this was all a trick of editing and dubbing. It wasn’t him speaking, singing or clapping his hands. He claimed it was a dastardly plot hatched by his former employers in revenge for the popularity of his Ramazan programmes. Carefully ignoring the fact that it was those very same former employers who hastily pulled the video from YouTube soon after the footage emerged. If you believe his assertion about the dubbing and editing you’ll believe anything — or, at least, that Pakistan’s poor cricket performance was dependent upon the colour of their shoes’ soles. Ah. And there lies the problem.
Categories: Pakistan