The scourge within
By
Huma Yusuf
Updated about 8 hours ago
Perhaps it is the shocking violence in Iraq. Or it might be the growing brutality of the attackers, who now pursue the relatives of previous victims and do not hesitate to slay women and children.
It could also be the growing allegations against a political party. Whatever the trigger, there has been a growing realisation in recent weeks of how drastic the issue of sectarian violence has become in Pakistan.
More than 160 members of the Shia community have been targeted in Karachi alone this year, and national tolls continue to soar.
We refer to the attacks as targeted killings, but there is nothing targeted about them: scholars, doctors, teachers, schoolchildren and shopkeepers have all been hit with equal disregard. Each attack claims a victim or two (though the cumulative effect is horrifying), so it is easy to forget that sectarianism is Pakistan’s greatest security — and societal — challenge.
There are many reasons why sectarianism should be acknowledged as arguably the greatest threat facing our country.
The human rights implications of sectarian violence are obviously immense, but regard for the freedom of religion and the sanctity of life count for little in today’s Pakistan.
Which brings us to other reasons: sectarian affiliations are deeply felt, and this form of violence has the potential to involve large swathes of society. In a culturally diverse context, sectarianism offers the false promise of social cohesion across ethnic and linguistic divides, all while creating new schisms.
The diversity of sects in Pakistan also means that such violence is never-ending.
Sectarianism is Pakistan’s greatest security and societal challenge.
When the Sharifs came to power, many — myself included — predicted an escalation in sectarian violence. The PML-N’s political ties with sectarian militant organisations that have the clout to harness voters in southern Punjab as well as the Sharifs’ close relations with Riyadh were expected to preclude crackdowns on sectarian groups or the private Saudi donors who support them.
But things have been worse than expected because of international developments: trends at home mimic the sectarian havoc in Iraq and Syria.
Moreover, across Sindh, waderos with political ambitions are also willing to highlight the sectarian affiliations of rivals to win the support of Deobandi groups who have growing influence in the province, and can rally voters on the basis of ideology or through intimidation.
Few politicians have the vision to consider the deep fractures that result from sectarian politicking in previously harmonious societies.
The fact that sectarianism rumbles on without outrage or redressal also highlights one of Pakistan’s major flaws: violence doesn’t matter unless it affects the security establishment.
For example, recent military operations have targeted foreign fighters and those Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) factions that persistently target security forces.
But other groups, including those with sectarian motivations, continue to operate with impunity.
The public too is in denial about the severity of the problem. Cycles of tit-for-tat sectarian killings are often termed ‘conspiracies’ by religious leaders and politicians who seek false comfort in the idea that such violence is stoked by nefarious external forces, rather than those amongst us.
Pakistanis are also imbued with a false sense of confidence resulting from the belief that the security establishment would not permit sectarianism to get out of hand — after all, the thinking goes, sectarian divides would affect the unity of the ranks, and destabilise the force. In this context, many see the sudden and effective rise of Dr Tahirul Qadri as part of a broader plan to rebalance sectarian dynamics and slow fragmentation (never mind that empowering one sect is hardly the way to settle sectarian rivalries).
But how can the security establishment manage what is essentially a social problem? Sectarianism is already deeply rooted in Pakistani society. In my own circle of people I used to consider progressive and enlightened, there are now those who now shun inter-marriage and make condolence visits at homes to avoid entering other sects’ mosques.
Current counterterrorism strategies focus on improved intelligence and coordination to prevent militant attacks.
But there are few good ideas about how to change people’s minds about sectarian differences.
A police crackdown in Punjab last year took a more holistic view, and more than 3,000 cases were registered against individuals engaging in hate speech against other sects or distributing incendiary materials.
This is a good place to start.
Other societies have initiated the shift toward greater tolerance in matters of race and sexuality by purifying the language of hate and making political correctness the norm.
Of course, such initiatives (whether legal or societal) are governed by a belief in the value of secularism and human rights, which Pakistan does not have. How can our state deal with the inevitability of its own ideological trajectory?
The writer is a freelance journalist.
huma.yusuf@gmail.com
Twitter: @humayusuf
Published in Dawn, September 15th , 2014
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