Falling in line

It was a surprise to no one when Sajid Nawaz was picked up by the police from his home in Lahore. His face and voice had been resoundingly played on phones across the country when a video of him going on an obscenity laden tirade against the Chief Minister of Punjab and other high officials went viral.

It was a moment of pure authenticity that could not be matched by any rant recorded with a fat budget in a well-lit studio. Here was a man trudging along on his motorbike on a flooded street when he saw a local reporter with a microphone and a camera. He stopped for a grand total of 12 seconds, looked directly at the camera as water dripped through his raincoat and launched a tremendous philippic. The contents of the video are profane, immature, and besides the point. It was an expression of rage that blazed through the internet.

In any normal country, the video would have come and gone. Unfortunately for Sajid Nawaz, we are at the stage of authoritarianism where 12 seconds of dissent can land you a couple of nights in a holding cell. The police showed up at his doorstep, carted him away, made him record an apology video, and when his son demanded to know where his father was, law enforcement told him they did not have him.

It took a couple of days and a writ of Habeas Corpus filed by a group of well meaning lawyers, but Mr Nawaz was released. He was never going to be held indefinitely. His detention had delivered the desired message. 

But the consequences for Sajid Nawaz’s actions were seemingly much deeper. News began circulating that he had been fired from his job at Qarshi Industries where he had been gainfully employed for close to three decades. His LinkedIn listed him as Qarshi’s country manager for Saudi Arabia.