Tariq Mahmood Awan

“Patriot into Traitor” by Robert Browning and Pakistani Politics

Poetry is a form of art that can express emotions, beliefs, and opinions creatively and intensely. Poetry can also be a tool for social and political oscillation, as it can challenge the status quo, raise awareness, inspire movement, and deliver a voice to the marginalized and oppressed. Poetry can also provide solace, hope, and convalescing for those suffering from inequity and violence. Poetry is the aesthetical poetic justice to humankind.

One example of a poem that deals with social and political issues is “Patriot into Traitor” by Robert Browning. This poem is a dramatic monologue of a leader who was once praised and celebrated by the people but is now condemned and executed as a traitor. The poem reveals the fickleness and hypocrisy of public opinion and the irony and tragedy of the leader’s fate. The poem also shows the leader’s faith in God and hope for divine justice.

The poem’s theme is the contrast between the leader’s past laurels and present affliction and the injustice and cruelty of the world. The poem also explores the role of religion in politics, as the leader claims to have done everything for his people’s sake but is betrayed by them and only trusts in God’s reward.

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The summary of the poem is as follows:

• In the first stanza, the speaker recalls how he was welcomed by the people with roses, flags, bells, and cheers a year ago on this very day. He says that if he had asked them to give him the sun from the sky, they would have done so.
• In the second stanza, he says that he was the one who leapt at the sun to give it to his friends, meaning that he did everything he could for his people. He says that now he reaps his harvest, which is his commission.
• In the third stanza, he describes how nobody is on the house-tops now to see him, except a few older adults at the windows. He says that the best sight is at the gate where he will be hanged, or better yet, at the foot of the scaffold.
• In the fourth stanza, he says he goes in the rain with a rope cutting his wrists behind his back. He says he thinks his forehead bleeds from the stones people throw at him for his misdeeds.
• In the fifth stanza, he says he entered and went out similarly. He compares himself to people who have died in triumphs. He says that God might question him what he owes him for being paid by the world. He says that now God will repay him, and he is safer.

The diction of the poem is simple and lucid. It shows the political culture of shaky and fragile political systems, especially third worlds where political structures are yet to develop, including that of a functional democracy. The poet attributes that Politicians should rely on something other than public opinion or popularity in such political cultures, as they can change quickly and unpredictably. He further expounds that politicians should be aware of the consequences of their actions and decisions, as they may face criticism, opposition, or punishment. Politicians should be unpretentious and genuine in their motives and goals, as they may be judged by God or history. They should be frank and pragmatic in their expectations and achievements, as they may face disappointment or failure.

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As a teacher, I would teach the poem to my students and develop the same imagination that it was written for the politics in Pakistan. In simple words, one can easily apply the political patterns of the poem on Pakistani politics. Rather, back in 2010, teaching at a governmental college, I would imagine that Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto might have written it had he been the poet. I need to find out the reasons. Somehow, I would think it was written for ZA Bhutto. But now, with time, I rather believe the poem is written for all Pakistan politicians.

Pakistan has experienced multiple political upheavals and transformations, such as coups, wars, assassinations, corruption scandals, protests, and elections. Many political leaders have risen and fallen in popularity and power. Pakistan has faced considerable social and economic challenges and problems, such as poverty, inequality, terrorism, sectarianism, extremism, illiteracy, health crises, environmental issues, and human rights violations. Many political leaders have tried to address these issues with varying degrees of success or failure. Then, Pakistan has a diverse and complex society and culture, with different ethnicities, languages, religions, regions, and interests. Political leaders have tried to unite or divide these groups with different ideologies or policies. Thus, it is almost impossible to remain popular among all divergent communities and secondly, politicians do not work for all the divergent communities in the federation of Pakistan. Accordingly, politicians face the treatment, as has been mentioned in the poem.

Pakistan has a muscular role of religion in politics, with dissimilar interpretations of religions influencing political parties, movements, laws, institutions, and values. Many political leaders have employed religion as a source of legitimacy or inspiration or a tool of manipulation or oppression for political gains. Then, the role of the institutions has been powerful. Lastly, the strength of politicians is always people. Unfortunately, politicians in Pakistan have not been able to garner people’s support, and therefore most of them present the sorry state of politics as described in the poem. The only political panacea of the Politicians in Pakistan is the public support.

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The text of the poem is as follows:

It was roses, roses, all the way,

With myrtle mixed in my path like mad:

The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway,

The church-spires flames, such flags they had,

A year ago on this very day.

The air broke into a mist with bells,

The old walls rocked with the crowd and cries.

Had I said, “Good fold, mere noise repels–

But give me your sun from yonder skies!”

They had answered, “And afterward, what else?”

Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun

To give it my loving friends to keep!

Nought man could do, have I left undone:

And you see my harvest, what I reap

This very day, now a year is run.

There’s nobody on the house-tops now–

Just a palsied few at the windows set;

For the best of the sight is, all allow,

At the Shambles’ Gate– or, better yet,

By the very scaffold’s foot. I trow.

I go in the rain, and more than needs,

A rope cuts both my writs behind;

And think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,

For they fling, whoever has a mind,

Stones at me for my year’s misdeeds.

Thus I entered, and thus I go!

In triumphs, people have dropped down dead.

“Paid by the world, what dost thou owe

Me?” — God might question; now instead,

‘Tis God shall repay: I am safer so.

The writer is a civil servant and heads a research society.