Iran, Saudi Arabia and Pakistani diversity

Let’s take a quick survey of the countries involved, either directly or indirectly in the fracas in Yemen. There is Saudi Arabia. This country ranks thirty-fourth (34th) on the Human Development Index. Not bad. Although, I don’t know if the UNDP has ever spoken to a Saudi woman. Ever. Still, this is good enough for Saudi Arabia to qualify as having ‘high’ human development – just not ‘very high’, like Norway, where women are allowed to exist as regular human beings.
There is Iran, which is ranked seventy-fifth (75th) on the Human Development Index. This seems to be far below Saudi Arabia, but it still qualifies as ‘high’ human development. Perhaps out of respect for sectarian balance, the UNDP has never spoken to an Iranian woman either.
Then there is Yemen. Yemen is ranked one hundred and fifty-fourth (154th) on the human development index. This is not far from the bottom, where Niger occupies one hundred and eighty seventh (187th) place. Both are classified as low human development countries.
We can’t forget Syria in this. Yemen is the movie-trailer for the horror film that is Syria. Syria is ranked 118th and thus qualifies as medium human development. But if there is a Syrian alive on earth today that feels their country is a medium anything, I’d like to meet them. My optimism has taken a body blow or two in the last several weeks. I could use the boost.
Among the countries Saudi Arabia wants to get mixed up in the Wahabbi-Ayatollah moshpit are Egypt, Morocco, Sudan, and Pakistan. Perhaps they are hoping no one in these countries has heard of Syria.
Egypt is one hundred and tenth (110th) on the human development index. Morocco is one hundred and twenty ninth (129th). Sudan is ranked one hundred and sixty sixth (166th). And Pakistan is ensconced comfortably between those two at one hundred and forty sixth (146th). Egypt and Morocco both qualify as medium human development countries, but Pakistan and Sudan are both low human development countries.
Human development indicators are defined by metrics meant to measure how good or bad life can be. In medium and low human development countries, the average child has to grow up with the odds stacked against her. What happens to children when human development indicators in their country are low? Things blow up without notice. Children’s flesh is pierced by shrapnel. Their skin is penetrated by bullets. If they are lucky, it isn’t explosives or weapons they have to worry about. It is malaria. In some places, it is polio.
In low human development countries, children die of diarrhoea because their mothers can’t read the instructions on the packets of oral rehydration solutions meant to rehydrate them. In low human development countries, if the Shia or the Sunni bullets don’t kill you, the mosquitoes will. And if the mosquitoes don’t, then the heat or the cold may step it. And if the elements are forgiving, the hopelessness of your life will not be. Low human development countries asphyxiate the hope in the hearts of mothers and their children; they extinguish the twinkle of the eyes of those children.
After the attack on the Army Public School, there were several weeks of national solidarity. Even the opposition to military courts was incredibly civil. Imran Khan put away his container sideshow in the greater national interest. The prime minister had rushed to Peshawar, in a manner unlike anything he’d done in this, his third attempt at running Pakistan. There was young Jibran Nasir, proving what a little courage could achieve. It sparked the imagination about what this country could become.
We could hold each others’ hands, touch each others’ hearts and stand up and challenge people like Abdul Aziz – who is less evil character and more a manifestation of a society that has no leaders. A compass-less society won’t make just one Abdul Aziz. It will mass produce such characters. Jibran Nasir reminded us that for all the rot we’ve allowed to set in within us, there is light and goodness.
In the background, the army and police started to chip away at terrorist groups. The surest sign of the impact of their work? The terrorist went for Pakistan’s jugular vein. This jugular vein is not Kashmir. It is the unity of Shias and Sunnis.
For years, there have been pockets of killing fields in which once-state enabled extremist groups like the SSP, and now the Lashkar-e-Jhangvi, have killed Shias with impunity. Sometimes the body counts from the attacks were so bad that the whole country got shaken up – like the Alamdar Road attack after which many of us stayed on the streets for days on end in the January cold. But mostly, the genius of violent extremist takfiris that appropriate the word ‘Sunni’ is that they kill Shias in small numbers. Enough to strike fear, but not enough to tip the scale of Pakistan’s humanity against them.
When the post-Peshawar clarity of the state came into action, the LeJ and its friends had to be pursued. You cannot take out the TTP without going after these people. Every major and lance naik knows this. Every SSP and sub-inspector knows this. And all their bosses know this. And they all know where the bad guys are hiding, and they all know where the money for their operations comes from.
The reason that imambargahs started getting hit (this happened in quick succession in Rawalpindi, Peshawar and Shikarpur) was because the terrorists needed to test the public resolve in Pakistan. If you can keep getting away with hitting imambargahs without causing riots, you’re still in business in Pakistan. No matter how hard the army, ISI and the police come after you.
Pakistan is trying to wind its way through an incredibly complex mess created by years of greed and cowardice at the top of our military and political decision-making processes. Luckily, today’s top generals, IGs, SSPs and ministers are trying to be brave and visionary. They are trying hard. The diversity of the country, our religiosity, the freedom of expression that we enjoy, and our robust rights’ defenders all combine to make their life difficult.
This is nothing to lament. We should be proud of how hard it is to govern Pakistan. In all the Muslim world, there isn’t a democracy with the vitality of Pakistan. It is the kind of raw material with which Pakistan could one day be a high human development country: a country where a newborn child is not condemned to bad luck, bullets and the harshness of the elements.
One of the greatest threats to our vitality is a breach in Pakistan’s Shia-Sunni unity. For many of this country’s enemies, it is the grand prize. To get us fighting on the streets.
It seems this also is the grand prize for Iran and Saudi Arabia. And this has to be unacceptable to all Pakistanis. Any party that attempts to exploit differences between Pakistanis certainly cannot be called Pakistan’s friend.
If Saudi Arabia is a real friend of Pakistan’s it has to withdraw whatever request it has made of Pakistan to fight in Yemen. If Iran ever wants to be a friend of Pakistan’s it has to stop provoking and goading Saudi Arabia. But at the end of the day, what Saudi Arabia and Iran do is their business. Pakistan cannot be a part of it. Pakistan has to protect its inner sanctity, first and foremost. And the bedrock of this sanctity is Shia-Sunni unity.
The COAS or the prime minister have a once-in-a-generation opportunity to fix Pakistan, and reset this country’s direction. Any conversation that is even considering involving this country’s soldiers in a divisive international event is bad for Pakistan. Pakistan’s prime minister was elected to protect Pakistanis. Pakistan’s COAS was appointed to protect Pakistan’s territorial integrity. This is should be the first, second, and third priority of both men.
Any friend of Pakistan would understand this and support Pakistan’s inward focus. And only enemies of this country would attempt to exploit our diversity for their own selfish ends.
The writer is an analyst and commentator.