The monster without a chain

Do we ever think about who is responsible for the events that take place in our country? It is not hard to figure out who was behind the Shikarpur blast that killed at least 61 people. But why has it not been possible to act against these groups, to place their leaders behind bars, to cut off funding?
Is it because the government is incompetent and unwilling? Is it because the establishment continues to support these monsters or does the question of funding from powerful forces overseas come into play?
The truth probably combines all of these factors to some degree. The reality is that while initially these groups may have received backing from elements within the state apparatus, today they have simply moved beyond its control, becoming too ferocious to place on a chain. Somewhat like the monster created by the unfortunate Dr Frankenstein, what was established for certain purposes has today assumed a life and mind of its own.
The evidence that Pakistan is becoming part of the larger global battle fought along the lines of sect makes things even more frightening. The attack in Shikarpur, in which a suicide bomber burst into an imambargah, tearing apart not only the building and the people within it but also centuries of tradition based on the Sufi beliefs that live on in Sindh, was very possibly the first act by Islamic State within Pakistan’s territory – with a group affiliated to it claiming responsibility. The thought of what could happen next is terrifying.
There have been a series of actions taken after the siege of a Peshawar school in December that are intended to combat extremism and militancy. There is no evidence yet that they are proving very effective. Since those steps were put in place under the National Action Plan worked out by political parties in the country, fiercely anti-Shia groups have been able to take to the stage and deliver vitriolic speeches directed against the sect.
Others who preach hatred, such as Lal Masjid prayer leader Maulana Abdul Aziz, continue to address audiences too, and no one seems to make any effort to stop them. At other mosques controlled by hard-line groups, recruitment continues, pulling people, mainly the young, towards fundamentalist causes. They use the sense of hopelessness, the high rate of unemployment and the desperation of people as their tools.
And of course they have mastered this trade over the last many years while the state and its forces has stood by and watched in silence. This unwillingness to act has today come close to destroying us as fratricidal killings continue across the country.
There is an aspect to these killings we need to consider. After 150 people, at least 140 of them children, were brutally murdered in Peshawar, Facebook profile pictures went black all over the country. This has not happened after Shikarpur. What is the criterion then which determines our mourning? Do we differentiate on the basis of who is killed, what group they belong to or the number mowed down?
Do we ‘go black’ only after a certain figure is reached, like the applause that greets a century in cricket, but not 99 runs? Does the media play a part in shaping perceptions? Are the poor less worthy of our empathy than the middle class? Is the fact that the Shikarpur victims were all Shia relevant? It is important that we answer these questions. We must know where the majority stands and what opinions it holds. Do we mourn all equally, or are some citizens less valuable than others?
As a result of the concern we have seen, notably after the Peshawar attack, certain facts have begun to emerge. The government, after some aggressive questioning in the Senate, has stated there are seminaries funded from overseas which operate across the country. Money from other countries and governments supports these institutions.
There is confusion about the numbers. Initially it was said that 80 seminaries had received funds in 2013 to 2014. Later this figure was brought down to 23, with the Punjab police having apparently said there were no foreign funded seminaries in the province. This of course is very difficult to believe. The government needs to put facts out in the open. The opacity in discussing these matters and the continued tendency to hide reality can only make things worse. If a problem is to be resolved, we must first admit that it exists and we have plenty of problems. We have kept things shrouded far too long.
Under these covers our difficulties have evolved to assume bigger and bigger form, and dark and menacing shapes, because we have ignored what was happening for so many years – indeed decades. We did not react when the ostracisation and constitutionally sanctioned discrimination against Ahmadis began. We stayed silent too as in the 1980s new religious forces replaced the traditionally tolerant beliefs of the Subcontinent under the patronage of their mentor, Gen Ziaul Haq. And in the 1990s, we permitted sectarian outfits to grow in Punjab and develop links within the bureaucracy, the police, the government and possibly other places. Their efforts at that time are bearing fruit now for these forces. So too are their inter-connections with jihadist outfits that have operated for decades alongside powerful state-run organisations.
The backdrop against which events take place is also hugely significant. How people act, what they believe, how they react in many ways shapes national events. We have allowed a curious set of views to sweep over us. The deliberate, overt often hypocritical sense of religiosity is involved. ‘Islamic’ fun-fairs, complete with stalls selling ‘Sunnah’ food and ‘Hoor-e-Sahar’ awards for the best dressed girl are advertised.
Does attending such events, rather than an ‘ordinary’ fun-fair turn us into better Muslims. They are apparently some who seem to believe it does. The same view may lie behind our adoption of phrases stemming from Arabic, with the Ramazan pre-dawn meal of ‘Sehri’ now often called ‘Sahuur’ and ‘Mubarik’ turned to ‘Mabarook’.
We evidently believe Allah understands one language better than others. Or, more likely, this is simply an effort to make our zeal plain, just as is involved in the spelling of particular words when offering greetings or making simple exchanges. Form, it seems, comes above meaning, conviction or a wider endeavour to do good, act honestly and condemn brutality towards other humans. We have reduced religion to the trivial, but learnt to accompany it with growing intolerance and an unwillingness to accept difference or create space for it to exist.
These attitudes too allow extremism to expand. We have in so many ways created the perfect environment for IS to move into, and our state seems to lack the capacity to tackle the problem. It would have to demonstrate true commitment to do so. There is now no room left for half-hearted measures or cosmetic gestures. We need to reach out and bring down the forces creating hatred.
At the same time we need to resurrect our own cultural and religious heritage as the factor that for centuries allowed diverse groups to share space. That factor has gone missing creating a situation under which our very survival as a state has come under enormous threat.
The writer is a freelance columnist and former newspaper editor
Email: kamilahyat@hotmail.com