issue Fielding
candidates Yeh
Woh essay Sceptic’s
Diary
issue Extremist terrorism
has taken a heavy toll on Pakistani life, both civilians and soldiers. The
conflict, which was largely confined to the Federally Administered Tribal
Areas until 2006-07, has spread to the urban centres. Despite several large
and small military operations in FATA under the overhang of Operation Al-Meezan,
the conflict continues to simmer there. Worse, with the military putting the
squeeze on extremist groups in FATA, they have resorted to terrorist attacks
in the urban centres. Result: chaos, and a sense
among the common citizen that the state is not in control of the situation. Recent attacks on the Shia
community and the lacklustre response of the state, bordering on insensitive
apathy, have strengthened the view that the state is merely reacting and has
no well-thought strategy to address the problem. People want solutions —
and fast. Are they right? There are three problems
here. One, checking terrorism is not an easy task. More so when it is the
result of extremist ideologies operating within a context where external
threats link up with internal fault-lines to create a diabolical interactive
dynamic. Even if the state and its functionaries were competent, the country
would still have had to live with this menace for a long time. Two, the bigger problem is
that the ideologies the state has to deal with have seeped into large
sections of the population. This makes it very difficult for the state to
isolate the terrorist from the population. Finally, the state itself,
for a host of reasons, is simply unprepared to deal with the problem. There
is no comprehensive strategy based on studying the phenomenon and breaking
down the response to the three phases — short-to medium-to long-term. Corollary: we should expect
more of the same. So, nothing can be done? I have faced this question
repeatedly over many years but more so in recent times. The problem with
offering solutions — and yes, there’s no overarching single solution; any
strategy will have to have multiple solutions — is that they must be
viable. In this case, the viability of a solution is not just related to what
must be done but also what can be done. The problem becomes worse when the
‘must’ and ‘can’ parts of viable solutions collide headlong into a
wall made up of several disabling factors. Let’s take an example:
terrorism is a national threat. A national threat is to be dealt with by the
federal government, regardless of how much power has been or can be devolved
to the provinces. Easy? Conceptually, yes. In reality, policing is a
provincial subject and since no effort has been made in the past decade to
create a federal force to deal with the issue with a mandate to override the
province or parochial provincial interests, there is inertia. Ask the interior minister
and he says Punjab refuses to deal with the problem. And what can the federal
government do? Nothing. This is a real
problem and a procedural-structural one. The state faces a similar problem in
terms of creating an effective legal framework to deal with acts of terrorism
whether it is the issue of the law of evidence, witness protection or
detention and trial. The deep irony is that taking care of these structural
problems is a necessary but not sufficient condition of fighting terrorism.
The sufficient would require much more at the operational level. The point, however, is that
if the state has been unable or unwilling or both to even deal with the
necessary, how much more difficult it would be for it to address the
sufficient. There are always four
levels of any conflict. In ascending order they move from the tactical to the
theatre to the strategic to, finally, the highest level, i.e., the political.
Any comprehensive strategy has to wed the necessary and the sufficient at all
levels. At the political level, the state has to see how, if at all, the
internal and external threats complement each other. What can be done, if such
linkage is found, to reduce the catalysing effect of the external on the
internal? At the strategic level, a
decision has to be taken about who the enemy is, how to define it and what
guidelines to issue for the lower two levels to deal with it operationally.
This is where the national narrative comes in. A good example would be the
narrative India has created on Kashmir. It is that narrative that not only
sells Delhi’s oppressive policies in Kashmir but also finds its defence for
them in the majoritarian consensus. I give a negative example deliberately to
show how states can, when they want, sell even that which, going by the
idealist framework, they shouldn’t. The state in Pakistan has
failed to do that. The strategic level also has to deal with how to configure
forces; where and when to employ them; how to use force; when to rely merely
on the threat of the use of force; how to translate the use of force into
utility of force; when to fight; when to talk — essentially, a host of
issues. This level must also
develop a consensus among political actors in a democracy. A state can never
win against the terrorist if half the political actors don’t agree with the
rest. Or when the state wants to fight but the political opposition
doesn’t. At the theatre and tactical
levels we have the actual operations being conducted. Effective intelligence,
good policing, optimising the effort. Forces have to be configured according
to the nature and level of threat. The terrorist operates
within a context but he also aims to change that context. Understanding this
is very important. Tied in with this is the strategy of dislocating the
terrorist from the context that sustains him. In Pakistan, that offers its
own problems. A state that has relied on religion to bind it together now
faces the threat of being torn apart by the very fault-lines, denominational,
that have historically informed the practice of religion. So, the state is in the
unenviable position of going against the “aspirations” of large sections
of its own population. Note another irony: since we also want democracy, this
population must exercise the right of vote too. Traditionally, religio-political
parties haven’t picked up too much vote except in certain areas. But there
are other parties, centre-right and right of centre who get this vote and for
doing that they also link up with those forces whose hard-line cadres are the
very people that pose this threat. Exhibit A: PMLN’s
overtures to Ahle Sunnat Wal Jama’at, the political face of the terrorist
Lashkar-e Jhangvi. Exhibit B: the enlightened
PPP’s government in the Punjab in 1993-96 which had an SSP MPA who was also
a minister. So, what kind of solution
can one offer when the state is unable or unwilling to do both the necessary
and the sufficient? Your answer is as good as mine. The writer is Editor,
National Security Affairs at Capital TV and a visiting fellow at SDPI Last week in this
space we used a photograph of William Dalrymple but inadvertently missed the
credit. The photograph is by Saad Sarfraz Sheikh.
The ongoing
intra-party elections of the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) have pitched
different groups of the party against each other. The old guard is under
pressure and desperate to save their slots from losing to political heavy
weights coming from other parties. Hooliganism at polling
station in Lahore and tensions in Multan and Rawalpindi are manifestation of
existing friction — of contests between Kasuri group and Assef Ahmed Ali
group in Kasur and Shah Mehmood group and Javed Hashmi group in Multan. The
results are important as they will make choices clear and easy for the top
leadership in these constituencies. Besides, there are
questions as to what the party stands to gain or lose from these elections.
Will they set a positive tone for the party? Will this exercise lead to
further fragmentation in the party or acquaint its members (most of whom are
new to politics) with the secrets of electoral politics? Omer Zaheer Mir, Central
Convener, PTI’s Tsunami Change Group and ex-member PTI Punjab election cell
tells TNS their intra-party elections have created a hype which will
translate into active participation of party members in the general
elections. He says millions of party members have elected union council level
leadership through cell phone messages in the first stage of the polls.
“They have seen their opinion matters and this will motivate them to go to
polling stations in general elections,” he thinks. He claims such an exercise
has never taken place in the history of the subcontinent, resulting in
election of tailors, street vendors etc as presidents of union councils. A
large number of elected town presidents are from middle and lower-middle
classes with no family history of politics. Mir agrees feudals and
filthy rich candidates have won in some areas but clarifies this has not been
the trend in most cases. “You go through the list of successful candidates
and you will find very few Niazis and Khans. Ancestral/familial politics is
something we have discouraged.” Mir claims the PTI
popularity is on the rise, “due to the genuine and transparent intra-party
polls it has held” because “people tend to trust the party which holds
affairs in transparent manner and makes its leaders declare their assets
publicly”. He urges the Election
Commission of Pakistan (ECP) to call record of polling from all political
parties who claim they have conducted intra-party polls. “We have complete
record of text messages and calls and have maintained the voting lists. Can
anyone tell how the presidents of PML-N etc are elected behind closed doors
and who vote them to these positions? Sarwar Bari, National
Coordinator, Pattan Development Organisation terms the PTI elections a
welcome development though he condemns use of force and violence at polling
stations. “At least these elections
and the related activities are visible to the public,” he says adding that
in the pre-partition days annual meetings of All India Congress and All India
Muslim League coincided with intra-party elections. These were occasions
where great leaders like Jinnah, Gandhi, Bose etc would enter into debates
and answer questions raised by party workers. Unfortunately, “these
traditions were discontinued after the Partition when feudals entered and
dominated politics,” he adds. Sarwar does not expect the
fundamentals of party politics to change immediately but says the change will
come gradually. Generally in elections, the main foundations of political
mobilisation have been caste, personal friendships, reciprocity etc but,
here, “the PTI ideologues have also played a role,” he adds. Senior political analyst
Suhail Warraich calls for development of a proper electoral college before
any political party goes for intra party elections. He tells TNS even the PPP
and the PML-N — the two biggest parties of the country — do not have
membership lists. In case of the PTI which
claims to have one, he adds, “any person who bothers to send an SMS at a
prescribed number becomes a member and eligible to vote for election of 13
union council members. Instead of gauging a person’s association with the
party by his willingness to send an SMS, he should be properly registered and
involved in active politics and decision-making.” No doubt the union council
members are loyal to the party and become electoral college for selection of
top leadership but the fact they have been selected through text messages and
phone calls is questionable. Warraich says the political
parties in Pakistan do not have funds to spend on enlistment of members and
for engaging them actively in party activities. In Scandinavian countries, he
adds, even the government supports political parties to conduct intra-party
polls. The importance of
intra-party polls cannot be undermined. They organise party workers and help
in selecting different tiers of leadership but expecting a change in top
leadership is unrealistic in the Pakistani scenario. “Parties are known
because of the leaders and not otherwise. If Mian Nawaz Sharif and Imran Khan
change the name of their parties today, the popularity would switch with
them.” He sees the clashes and
brawls among followers of different PTI groups at polling stations as normal.
“This happens whenever there are open contests. It seems those who lose
will accept the results, especially when there is very little time left in
elections,” he adds.
Yeh Woh Good girls spend
their better years imagining what would ‘he’ be like, with or without the
help of his photograph, and often without having a preferred candidate in
mind. He could be an air force
cadet for a Nowshera girl, a high school droupout but flashy
son-of-a-rich-man for a Lahori girl, a poor artist for a Karachi girl, or a
white man for a Mirpur girl … or you can mix and match fantasies, spend
some time with each until it stops being exciting and then move on to the
next. One obvious benefit of fantasies is in the freedom it gives you.
Absolute freedom to be whoever you wish and pick as your suitor whoever you
wish. No complications, no resistance, no consequences. You can be as
creative and daring as you please. Be kinky, be bad. Plan to elope with the
motorbike cutie in your street who drops you hot languid looks and pumps up
his biceps every time you pass each other. You can look forward to
receiving rishta of a Shan lookalike who rides a white horse for his first
introduction with his future in-laws. You can imagine running in slow motion
holding Faisal Qureshi’s hands on French beach and singing, ‘wada karo
saajna’. I must clarify the song and the actor are in no way related and
that I’ve used the name in generic terms, in the expectation that among so
many Faisal Qureshi’s on television, one must be a ladies’ man. The point is you are free
to fantasise because you can’t think of anything to do to change the
reality. You have accepted your role in life to be gracefully passive, be
thankful for being allowed to attend college or university, enjoy whatever
freedom you can extract from your parents and teachers, and then marry an
uninteresting and romantically challenged man to become a full time mother
and home maker for the rest of your life. You need fantasies to spice up a
bland reality without having to do anything for it. Men fantasise too. Only,
they are at their fantastical best when dealing with responsibility rather
than the opposite sex. For instance they play out in their minds for months
various scenarios and logistical details before finally taking the car to a
garage for an oil change. The bigger the responsibility, the faster they run
away from it. Voting in general elections for instance is the most important
civic responsibility and around 25 million men who had their vote registered
did not use it in the last election. And not because they
don’t care. They speak passionately
against the oppression of the powerful, they lament the shabby and filthy
state of this country, they decry rampant corruption, they yearn for a
democratic change, but there is nothing they’ll do to bring about this
change. They won’t even go out to vote. When the ugliness of reality makes
them sick they take refuge in their favourite fantasy in which the Leader
emerges from somewhere, gets elected to the highest job, and puts everything
in order by simply signing a summary. The Leader can be someone
known or it can be a total stranger, which is a more exciting prospect. That
Leader is as improbable to show up as angels descending on Earth to help us
fight the war against terrorism. Fantasies create a beautiful but passive
world in which there are no choices, nothing to do, no responsibility and no
expectations. There is however a guarantee that reality will turn uglier the
next time you come out of your reverie. Because the good girls who
spend their blossoming years imagining what would be their man like, grow
into women who have found out what their men are like and they are not
impressed. Half of the voters – men and women – vote for a known criminal
or a person of bad reputation and the other half doesn’t vote at all, and
then they wonder why every government we elect is more corrupt and inept than
the last. There are good candidates
in every constituency, just as there are potentially good husbands in every
neighbourhood. You don’t have to go for the lesser evil. You don’t have
to accept rogues, thugs or idiots as your husband or representative. If you
don’t like any of the candidates, field one of your own and canvass for him
or her. Better still, put yourself up as a candidate and find out what does
it take to get the trust of people.
essay “Pakistan desires
to show a beacon of light to the world, which has been caught in the vortex
of materialism and has lost its way in the darkness of atheism and
agnosticism,” thundered Maulana Shabbir Ahmed Osmani as the first
Constituent Assembly listened attentively. He was speaking in support of the
Objectives Resolution presented in the House two days ago, on 7 March 1949,
by Prime Minister Liaqat Ali Khan. It is believed that the
resolution was drafted by the Maulana. His words were music to the ears of
many sitting in the Assembly Chamber in Karachi. There was more than one
reason for them to celebrate this turn in the region’s political discourse. Pakistan Resolution was
presented nine years ago. During the period between the Pakistan Resolution
and the Objectives Resolution, the world went through the frenzy of World War
II; the bloodiest event of mankind’s history which took tens of millions of
life all across the globe, most of them in horrid ways. Standing at the fag end of
this event, you did not need arguments to convince a new state that an option
other than the greedy capitalism is worth a try. But probably the honorable
members were not as much concerned about the horrors of capitalism as they
were about the “excesses” of communism that were purportedly advancing
from the western side. “Islam has no truck with
capitalism. The Islamic State brings about an equitable distribution of
wealth by employing methods peculiar to it and distinct from communistic
practices.” So the Islam was the panacea, the antidote to the ills of the
two systems of governance that the world had known thus far. Members of the Constituent
Assembly cheered over the passage of the resolution. It elated them. Most of
the members boasted of a glorious past and the resolution reassured that the
return of greatness was at hand and a matter of few years. On a more
pragmatic note, however, they rejoiced over the other more handy feature —
the “Islamic State”. It seemed to be a perfect tool to fix “the problem
of cultural diversity” that they saw as an obstacle in the way of building
a nation for this country. The problem originated from
the fact that the new country had at least five distinct languages and
cultures. Sindhi was Greek to a Pakhtun and Bengali Latin for a Punjabi and,
more importantly, one of these was separated from the others by a thousand
miles stretch of enemy territory. The problem had two
dimensions. One, what will serve as the uniting element, the binding force.
No one in power echelons had the capacity, courage and foresight to pursue
the nation building as a humane and democratic process. They were desperate
for quick fixes even if these required blatant use of force. The other aspect of the
problem was more worrisome — how would the ruling elite maintain its
hegemony over this country where they had no cultural or political
constituency. The Pakistani elite at that time was composed mainly of
Urdu-speaking migrants from northern India. Their language and culture were
not indigenous to the areas that formed Pakistan. Urdu had a hold in Punjab
even before Partition but not in other parts of the country and certainly not
in Bengal. A nation built on indigenous identities and democratic principles
offered no place to this elite, not at least the top and the most powerful
one. The most important of the
interpretations of the Objectives Resolution thus was that it required all to
abandon their languages and cultures and adopt the one ordained as Islamic by
the ruling class. Baba-i-Urdu Molvi Abdul Haq is on record to have said that
all languages of the subcontinent, except Urdu, are languages of kafirs and
thus have no place in this Islamic country. The lofty Islamic ideals
belittled and demeaned all things local. “Provincialism” was propagated
as a scourge and “lisani” (linguistic) labelled an evil. Unlike the western
provinces, Bengal in 1947 had a fully grown and thriving middle class. It was
educated and trained in its mother tongue that was used in all walks of life
in that vast area. Again unlike the languages of the western provinces,
Bangla had a distinct script of its own, developed and in vogue since
centuries. On the western side, only Sindhi had a script and a print media.
The decision to abolish Bengali language from official use through a
notification was arbitrary, naive and callous. It implied overnight
disempowerment of the biggest section of the middle class of the country.
Such a brazen act of omission was bound to meet stiff resistance. The decision sparked a
movement in East Bengal that pitched mother tongue against the state
narrative of nationhood. It started as early as December 1947 and spread far
and wide. There were frequent street protests in 1948 led fervently by Dhaka
University students. In one of those, the former prime minister of united
Bengal AK Fazalul Haq, was hurt in a scuffle with police. He was the Bengali
leader whom Quaid-e-Azam had chosen to present the Pakistan Resolution to the
Muslim League meeting of 1940 in Lahore. The movement got its first martyrs
in 1952 when on February 21 four of the protesting students died as the
police opened fire to break the crowd. The language movement of
Bengal was the first tussle between the two paradigms of identity, one based
itself on all things indigenous and the other derived a whole array of
cultural symbols from a particular interpretation of Islam or borrowed these
from various chapters of the history of different Muslim societies. While the
Islamic one attempted to unite distinct ethnic groups on the basis of faith,
the cultural recipe supported unity among believers of diverse religions.
Islam suited the ruling elite of Pakistan as it not only offered return of
the glory, it also supported the status quo — the continued dominance of
Urdu speaking elite. Bengalis, however, won the
first round. They successfully checked the onslaught of this elite. The
national language status for Bangla was one of the 21 points on the basis of
which the United Front made the Muslim League bite the dust in the landmark
elections of 1954. The Bengalis had by now grown weary and were apprehensive
about the intentions of the ruling coterie at Karachi. They pressed
forcefully for their democratic rights and again Islam was used to silence,
subdue and coerce them. The Jamaat-i-Islami (JI)
led the cause of Islam-based identity in both the wings of the country. In
East Bengal, it secured 6.1 per cent of the votes in the 1970 elections while
Awami League swept with 75.1 per cent of votes, bagging a whooping 160 of
total 162 seats of that province. The language based
narrative of nationalism defeated the supra-cultural Islamic state ideal on
all possible avenues — on the streets, in the campuses and at the polling
stations. It however did not soften the other party that instead further
stiffened. It ended up as a bloody clash that reached its zenith in the
spring of 1971. The nationalists came well-prepared and won on this front
too, though only after a lot of bloodletting. The Islamists stood
defeated completely and thoroughly. This had cleared the way for the
triumphant Bengali nationalists to pursue the state formation on the basis of
their secular and culture-based ideals. Did they? No, they did not. The violent campaign
against the nationalists was spearheaded by the Pakistan Army as the Jamaat (JI)
people served as their point-men. With the benefit of hindsight, it now seems
that probably the Pakistan Army was serving as the front-men of Jamaat. The
real owner of the Islamic state narrative is the Jamaat and the state of
Pakistan was just one of its franchises. Pakistan and its army
became irrelevant to the politics of Bangladesh after 1971. But
Jamaat-i-Islami survived. In the 1970 elections, there was one Jamaat voter
for every 12 of Awami League and this is not negligible especially when you
factor in the level of organisation in the Jamaat. The Jamaat kept its
ideals, of basing national identity on Islam, alive in Bangladesh and found
new allies within the new country’s middle class and its military
establishment. Bangladesh’s original
constitution of 1972 had declared it a secular state but the later military
rulers amended it to ward off democracy and they never forgot to play up
Islam to compensate for the shortfall in democracy. The 8th Amendment,
effected by General Ershad in 1988, declared Islam as the state religion of
Bangladesh. The Awami League, though
champions of secularism but like any other political party involved in the
power games, does not hesitate using the religion card. The government of the
four-party alliance (2001-2006) led by Bangladesh Nationalist Party and
including Jamaat-i-Islami had banned Ahemdi literature through an executive
order. The Awami League could ill-afford losing the Islamic constituency to
its arch rivals, it thus joined hands in 2006 with another Islamic party,
Bangladesh Khelafat Majlish, on the promise that it would extend the
definition of state religion to include the belief in the finality of Prophet
Muhammad which by implication would have declared Ahemdis as non-Muslims. Similarly, a Bangladesh
High Court had declared in 2010 the constitutional amendment that had changed
the country’s secular status to that of an Islamic state as having been
done without lawful authority. It laid the legal ground for the government to
revert to the secular state status but despite enjoying the required majority
in the parliament it did not dare. It is against this
background that the current Shahbag movement should be seen. The Bangladeshi
youth has gathered in a Dhaka city compound in droves and continues to do so
since the past few weeks. Their apparent demand is from the International
Crimes Tribunal that is set up by the present Awami League government to try
those accused of committing war crimes in 1971. Most of them are members of
Jamaat-i-Islami. The protest gathering started on February 5, 2013, in
reaction to a “lenient” sentence of life-imprisonment awarded to a Jamaat
member. The youth instead demands “exemplary punishment”. This youth does not want
Islam to be a determinant in matters of government, the biggest proponent of
which is Jamaat and 1971 is its soft belly. A surprising aspect of the
protest is that it has ‘pardoned’ Pakistan even before the country could
tender a formal apology. Pakistan is conspicuously missing from the list of
those accused of crimes of 1971. It is solely focused on Jamaat men. In
Shahbag, there has not been even a meek demand to ‘try’ Pakistan as well.
Pakistan and its army are a distant historical entity for the youth born much
after those events. Jamaat, however, is an alive phenomenon — omnipresent
and overbearing. They experience their suffocating presence on a daily basis.
A blogger who was part of the Shahbag movement and is accused of being an
atheist was stabbed to death, allegedly by members of Jamaat. On the other hand, the
Jamaat is avenging the sentencing of its leaders by attacking the Hindu
neighbourhoods and by vandalising their places of worship. They believe that
it is the presence of the Hindus that has made the “Muslim brothers”
fight each other. The Islamisation campaigns in Bangladesh have been
invariably targeted against local Hindus. They were 15.6 per cent of the
country’s population in 1975 and by 2010 were reduced to 9.6 per cent. Political parties in the
Muslim countries over the past half century have either actively pursued the
idea of an Islamic State or have silently witnessed the politics go that way.
Even those who profess secular ideals have not dared take a diversion. It is
the default position of all and a nugget of common political wisdom that any
act being done in the name of Islam enjoys unflinching public support and
thus must be supported at all costs. Shahbag is the first time
in the recent history that the youth of a Muslim society has come out in such
numbers and with such fervour and zeal to oppose something that is cloaked in
a sacred robe. Maulana Osmani was a great orator and he had the skills to
spell bind the Muslim elite sitting in the Assembly Chamber in Karachi. Can
the screaming youth of Shahbag break that spell? The writer works with
Punjab Lok Sujag, a research and advocacy group that has a primary interest
in understanding governance and democracy. He tweets at @TahirMehdiZ. caption Bangladeshi activists and
former freedom fighters shout slogans during a rally outside the
International Crimes Tribunal court in central Dhaka.
Sceptic’s Diary They might be
forced to do so but individuals and countries eventually need to grow up.
Being immature has its benefits — for people and states. When experiences
force us to re-evaluate life as we know it that is when long-term future
directions are shaped. Pakistan’s experience
with home-grown and often home-sponsored terror is making this country grow
up. Make no mistake about it. This is once-in-a-lifetime process and the
choices we make now and the forces that prevail now will shape this
country’s future — for our lifetime as well as that of our children. There is something ironic
and yet beautiful at play here. Countries that have been vilified for decades
by the intelligentsia of this country (even by the government) now seem
similar to us in their approach of handling terrorism. Whoever drafted the
Fair Trial bill has learned a lesson from other countries: the name matters
when you are trying to push through a draconian law inimical to civil and
political liberties. Remember the Patriot Act in the US? Well, someone in
Pakistan has been listening and learning closely from the US reaction to
9/11. Last week in this space, I
argued that it is of fundamental importance that we remain faithful to the
letter and spirit of the constitution when dealing with violent militancy.
Since we have not faced such a problem threatening our very existence before
— or at this scale at least — this is the time we should use to grow up
as a country. Consider the issue
of free speech. For a large part of our history, speech and disputes related
to it in Pakistan have focused either around the dominant religion Islam or
freedom of the press regarding criticism of government actions. Hate speech
is not an issue that this country has directly confronted. This is not meant
to suggest that hate speech has not been around — of course it has always
been there — but we have deliberately looked away from its consequences. Now consider that a number
of ethnic and religious sects are being targeted. Should this mean that we
act to limit speech threatening them? If so, what should be the extent or
immediacy of the threat? Or should we generally curtail the speech of parties
that otherwise encourage militancy? These are difficult questions. There are
no easy answers. And there definitely are no immediate answers. We need a
collective dialogue to discuss these issues and more. When the US and India acted
to curtail civil liberties in the face of terrorism, they were acting to
protect their majorities. Will our restrictions on civil liberties be less
popular if they are enacted to protect minorities? Of course the majority in
Pakistan is under threat too but groups forming part of the majority threaten
the minorities as well. There is a word for it. Ah, yes: a royal mess. The question whether speech
promoting religious or ethnic hatred should be banned is a pressing one.
Personally I am against banning speech, no matter how hateful, as long as the
threat of violence is not imminent. This personal conviction is of course
inspired by the First Amendment (and case-law under it) in the United States.
I also favour the argument that solution to hate speech is more speech. You
can disagree with it of course and make an equally compelling case for human
dignity — while citing the debate between Waldron and Dworkin. But
regardless of which way you swing, Pakistan (and by that I mean its people)
needs to start talking about these issues before laws or court judgments
mould our fate a particular way. No one should be naïve
enough to think that we are in this mess because it is an Islamic State. Even
a secular Pakistan would probably have the same, if not worse, issues. The
problem is societal so let us not focus on non-issues. I feel particularly
bad for the idea of the Islamic State itself. It takes criticism from both
sides. The Left blames all of Pakistan’s ills on the idea of religion and
state working together. The Right says, what are you on about? We have never
been, are not and at this rate will never be Islamic enough! So if you are
the Islamic State itself, you deserve sympathy. Everyone criticises you but
you really are not to blame for much — you have always been weak and
subject to control by greater, often un-enunciated, ideas. So while Pakistan grows up
it may realise that its criticism of India, Israel and the US is now coming
back to haunt it. Popular passions here too want quick solutions. There is a
growing desire to not ask questions if acts of state sponsored torture are
committed to protect Shias/Hazaras or even Sunni majority. And at the same
time Pakistan needs to realise that it needs to grow up and confront problems
banging on the door. Free speech and its balance with hate speech is only
part of the issue. There are other issues too but more on them later. The writer is a practicing
lawyer. He can be reached at wmir.rma@gmail.com or on Twitter @wordoflaw
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