Sitting beside Amani and eating popcorn while watching the movie, a thought from my past struck me: In childhood, my religious mentor taught me that Muslims are the best people on the planet Earth. I grew up hearing conceited claims that Heaven is only for Muslims. And that non-Muslims will be burnt in Hell forever. Does not matter who. Nelson Mandela? Mother Theresa? All of them. Their virtuousness and humanity does not count at all because they don’t believe in ‘our’ God and our religion, Islam. I was told. I was also taught that non-Muslims could never be friends with Muslims. And that we can never share meal with them as they are not pure like us (Muslims).

Absurd lessons such as these imply that non-Muslims must immediately convert to Islam in order for them to be good human beings and on par with Muslims. It seems as if human dignity is inherent in Muslimness only. However, I have successfully escaped this trap through my own reflection, and through appeal to reason, love, and compassion.

I admit though that I am neither a scholar of Islam nor of religion in general. I have no authority, like everybody else, to certify who is superior and who is inferior in the sight of God. But I do believe that the universality of a religious ideology (Islamic or else) does not mean its uniformity, as there exist a variety of popular religious beliefs with relative strength, potential, and their acceptance by humongous populations. Therefore, they all deserve equal protection and space for an unrestricted and independent practice.

As my train of thoughts continued, I looked at Amani and wondered: What religion does she belong to? Islam or Christianity, a blend of the two, or something in the middle? Or, does her religious identity, if anything, matter at all? Then I wondered what religion does her family as a single whole belong to? What religion does the feeling of love, which bound her parents together, belong to? The answer is that there are no clear divisions due to the complex and crosscutting nature of human identities that interlink us all in multiple and unbelievably varied ways.

But my country Pakistan is the complete opposite of what I believe in and hold dear to my heart. It does not even remotely resemble a place where people of diversity could live in unity and harmony. Far from accepting people of other religions, extremist groups and their sympathizers among masses are at daggers drawn with their coreligionists. Shia Muslims, Ismailis, Ahamdis, Christians, Hindus, and pagan communities in the farthest north of Pakistan have been perpetrated violence against by extremist groups for quite too long. As there does not seem any change in the exclusivist thinking of the people and policies of the state, religious violence is on a rise.

Since the beginning of 2015 only, there have been some large-scale attacks against religious minorities. While the irreparable wounds of Shikarpur and Youhanabad attacks against Shia Muslims and Christians respectively are still fresh in our memory, yet on May 13 another horrific episode of violence was unleashed on Ismailis in Karachi. 43 people including 16 women were murdered in cold blood. I am sure that as some are lamenting the brutal killing of Ismaili Shia, there may be many others who live indifferently in its face as they are led into make-believes that eliminating such ‘heretics’ from the land of Islam and Pakistan is the responsibility of ‘true’ Muslims. And such is also the popular public narrative at homes, in social gatherings on streets, in Islamic education classes at schools, and on loudspeakers in mosques. And this kind of religious hate and exclusivism boils down to one simple but dangerous idea that sectarian killing is necessary for purifying Islam from ‘apostates’. Our collective silence and inability or unwillingness in the face of such murderous ideologies has created a huge void filled in by the preachers of violence and murder in the name of faith.

Therefore, it is high time that we reappraise our thinking by developing a pluralist thought and hence a tolerant society. Accomplishing such pluralism requires challenging individuals, groups, and institutions that desire to impose their extremist narrative on others through violence regardless of their choice in faith. We also need to educate our younger generation which is being, and will continue to be, trapped into make-believes that I experienced myself once. But doing so is not easy when parents forbid their children from reading books antithetical to their beliefs. An educated friend of mine, who is pursuing a master’s degree in the US, was stopped by his ‘educated’ father from reading a book on secularism. Much harder as it is, I suggest it is through trust with our family and friends that we can make pluralist mindsets popular and acceptable among them, in our immediate social circles, and eventually in our communities.

Moreover, with our world coming much closer together than ever before, we have much in common to unite than fight for. I am aware of the fact that religious boundaries can’t simply cease to exist, and certainly for multiple practical reasons and purposes. But, I believe, we can still be accepting of others by thinning our self-created thick and impenetrable walls of religious and cultural identities. Doing so is possible by appealing to our human identity, which is the strongest, the most transcendental, and above all else.

All this may seem too quixotic but still possible and appropriate. And idealism for peace is more than worth trying for. I believe that it is only love for humanity that will counter religious biases and violence justified on their bases. I am not against religion. But its criticism does warrant merit when loathsome and dangerous ideologies associated with it are promoted at the cost of humanity. I do acknowledge that religion does have conspicuous and valuable contributions in providing hope to the hopeless and helpless, in disciplining society, and in reinforcing ethical and human values but it has also limited the scope for practicing humanity.

But I also believe that human beings are hard-wired for virtuousness. Which means they are inherently empathetic without believing in any form of religion. And it is no surprise that many smile at me. I feel loved by thousand others. Million others accept me without any discrimination, no matter where I am in the world. And I see them on my side. On the side of humanity.

PK, released in December 2014, also makes a solid and timely plea for deconstructing millennialist religious narratives propagated by religious “managers” (as rightly called in the movie). On reflection, in the real world, these religious entrepreneurs and their franchises are engaged unabashedly in presenting differences of faith as an existential struggle for establishing transcendental and eschatological truth i.e. their brand of religion is absolutist and superior to all others. It is at such critical juncture that the film strongly demands from us the reappraisal of our thinking about the world and our fellow humans on the planet Earth.

Finally, we need to look at life as a much bigger and richer entity than religion. Religion is just a tiny part of it, not the other way around. There is no one prescribed way to enjoy, live, and understand life in order to be at peace with it. There are in fact million ways to look at it and to live it. Religion, among others, is one way of looking at life and the world. The solution to our problems lies not in aggression but in introspection. In inclusiveness and acceptance of others. Not in Muslim exclusivism. And we must understand that every person has inherent dignity in them, and must strive to act in ways that reaffirm the inherent dignity of every person regardless of faith.

The post The Reappraisal of Our Worldview appeared first on Laaltain.

Suleiman, the protagonist and first-person narrator of the novel, looks back at his 9 years old self trying to make sense of the events – private, familial, and public (political) – in the last summer in Tripoli before he was sent off to Cairo in 1979 by his parents due to troubled times at home caused by the Revolution. Apparently, Faraj is a businessman as he goes on long business trips and does not come home for many days. But one day, Suleiman sees him at the Martyr’s Square. Revealed later in the story, Martyr’s Square is the place where his father, a political dissident, and his comrade are headquartered to run a pro-democracy student movement, and where they used to print leaflets against the extremes of the Guide’s Revolution.

Actually Faraj, his comrade Ustath Rashid, and a group of young student revolutionaries are secretly working against the Guide and his Revolutionary Committees. They hoped to inspire young men to open their eyes to new possibilities. The mokhabarat (secret services), which Matar calls “Antennae”, find out that some ‘traitors’ are printing leaflets against the regime. They take Ustath Rashid away, never to return back. Suleiman and his Mama are extremely grieved along with Rashid’s wife auntie Salma and his son Kareem who is Suleiman’s best friend. He cannot stand to see the sadness and hollowness on Kareem’s face. Mama tells him, “It just is not good for you to be so close to all of his sadness. Grief loves the hollow; all it wants is to hear its own echo” fearing lest Faraj be held by the mokhabarat. Suleiman watches Ustath Rashid under investigation on TV and eventually his televised execution in a stadium.

Matar also unveils a number of tactics that the intelligence state of Gaddafi used to terrify and control the Libyan populace. The Guide’s political terror is extreme and his regime’s tyranny monstrous and uncontrolled. For instance, the Revolutionary Committee men follow Suleiman and his Mama wherever they go or live, tap telephone calls, and call at Suleiman’s house to talk to him or Mama to find out if his father is around. Sometimes, people are arrested just by association. The intrusiveness and horror of the Guide’s totalitarian regime are so intense that they even force children on inadvertent acts of betrayal against their parents.

Matar’s style of writing and language are intense in describing the moments of horror. He shockingly exclaims why people have “respect for the sight of blood” and how hanging someone generates “madness of the crowd.” Matar also reveals that in Libya “walls have ears”, that informing on the fellow citizens is “Libya’s national sport”. At one point in the story, in order to deceive mokhabarat and to prove Faraj’s ‘innocence’, the family puts a picture of Colonel Qaddafi on the wall in their house. Matar recalls that the “absolute and sudden authority of the Guide seemed instantly acceptable.”

The mokhabarat eventually take Faraj away. After a long time, he is freed with the help of their neighbor, Ustath Jaffer, who holds an important position in the government. Najwa finds Faraj in a very poor and frightening condition after he is brought home. She does not allow Suleiman to see him. Suleiman is angry and tries to sneak in. He senses that the room smells like a dead dog. The intrigued Suleiman recalls the stench of death. Finally, he finds that the “naked monster with bruises and horrible face” was his Baba, Faraj. He looks into his Baba’s eyes to feel him but in vain.

“Nationalism is as thin as a thread”, Suleiman says in Cairo, as he adjusts too soon to Egypt forgetting Libya. But he does not meet his parents for fifteen years due to the repressive decrees of the regime. The Guide issues brutal decrees: “Stray dogs” have to return and spend the same amount of time in prison that they spent outside the country; those who didn’t return would be hunted down, and their parents would not be given visas to visit them. Baba dies and Suleiman does not get a chance to see him. After hearing the news of the death of Baba at 24 in Cairo to which he adapted too soon, Suleiman says, “I suffer an absence, an ever-present absence, like an orphan not entirely certain of what he has missed or gained through his unchosen loss.” Mama reunites with him in Cairo fifteen years later.

Najwa’s own past and the horrors of the regime deeply affect her life. Faraj’s lingering absence from her life makes her dependent on alcohol, stuff in a dark bottle which Suleiman thinks is her medicine, and on Suleiman who she unleashes heavy loads of secrets and confusions upon. For a 9 years old, that is too much to put up with.

The title of the novel “In the Country of Men” hints at the conservative patriarchal nature of Libyan society and appears as a recurring theme in the story. Suleiman’s father has great expectations of him based in his manhood, and quite often admonishes him about taking care of the family in his absence. Suleiman’s mother as a teenager was once closed in a room for holding hands with a boy in a coffee shop. She, after all this time, feels angry at her father and brothers, especially at her brother Khalid the poet whose poems made the family feel ashamed because of being against the social norms. She calls all men the “High Council”, and says that all of them are the same.

As a matter of fact in real life, Matar’s father Jaballah, a career diplomat, also disappeared, allegedly kidnapped by the Libyan regime, from the family home in Cairo in March 1990 while Matar was at school in England. Matar and his family settled in Cairo after they were forced to leave Libya in 1979 by the Libyan regime. Matar does not know the whereabouts of his father to this day. Dead or alive? No one knows.

The post In the Country of Men- Book Review appeared first on Laaltain.

Enticed by the poem, I instantly shared it with my sister in Pakistan. But she had no access to it due to the ban on YouTube there. And this left me extremely frustrated and hopeless.

But it is not just about that as I am aware that people know alternate ways of gaining access to videos now. The issue, actually, is much bigger in scope and dangerous in consequences when looked into deeply and carefully.

In February 2008, the Pakistani government blocked the video sharing site YouTube in reaction to a controversial Dutch film that was claimed to have contained blasphemous content. The ban was lifted immediately in late February after the content was removed at the request of the government. Then, in May 2010, the site was blocked again for containing objectionable material but resumed a week later after the content was cleared. Yet, on September 17, 2012, the Pakistan Telecommunication Authority (PTA) blocked the site once again in response to Sam Bacile’s anti-Islamic film Innocence of Muslims that mocked Prophet Muhammad, and which the site failed to remove. Youtube remains blocked since then. Bytes for All, a non-profit organization, challenged the ban in Lahore High Court (LHC). Other efforts have also been made by the Pakistan’s Senate Standing Committee on Human Rights and the National Assembly but none has been of any avail. It seems that the website will be inaccessible to the public for an unspecified period of time, which is a big shame.

Though many have proffered political factors behind the block like election rigging videos on the site, which may not be discounted, the prime reason for closing the site has been to ‘protect’ Islam. And if we further analyze the reason behind this motive, it is very clear that the government adopts such policies owing to pressure from the mullahs and their followers who block streets and set shops, banks, and markets on fire in protests against blasphemy. But, on the other hand, there are hardly any protests from the religious establishment when hundreds are killed in sectarian violence against Shia and other religious minorities. Instead, they either try to defend violence in the name of religion or choose to remain silent, as in the case of Maulana Abdul Aziz who refused to condemn the brutal attack on Army Public School (APS) in Peshawar.

Generally the dilemma at hand in the Pakistani polity has been that the government has always given in to the nasty demands of the religious establishment. If we look back at our history, especially in the wake of late 1970s, the state has quite often accommodated the Maududi/Qutb-inspired agenda of militant Islam, compromising the right of people to free speech and choice in almost all aspects of life.

I believe that caricatures or a film of degrading nature of the Prophet is wrong and insulting. But I also believe that the reaction and policy standpoint of Pakistan in such matters is even worse. ‘Protecting’ Islam by blocking YouTube, which contains a wealth of information for all kinds of positive uses, is retrogressive.

Blocking the site for stopping profanity is not a sign of worldly wisdom. Policies such as these are a symbol of the decline of reason in a decaying society which will further shrink the space for tolerance and a civilized dissent in the country.

It is high time that our leaders put their conspiracy mongering aside and be realistic in spotting the real threat. The threat to Islam and peace in Pakistan is not from cartoons of the Prophet or a film on YouTube. It is, indeed, from religious extremists like Mumtaz Qadri, Hafiz Saeed, Malik Ishaq, and those belief systems which justify killing in the name of religion. Islam is under threat from those religious bandits who openly call Shia kafir and declare them liable to be killed. Most worryingly, the real threat is from the ilk of Justice Khawaja Sharif, his fellow-lawyers, and officers and low-rank employees of the State, critically those in security, who either back or have soft corner for criminals like Mumtaz Qadri.

YouTube is not the problem. The underlying cause of worry is the toxic, volatile, and reactive mindset at work both at the society and state levels in Pakistan. Blocking YouTube will not fix the issue. Therefore, the government should immediately lift the ban on this most useful site. That is the first thing that must be done along with taking some other crucial long-term steps.

First, we need to challenge our collective Muslim national ego, which Mobarak Haider rightly calls cultural narcissism.

Secondly, we have to learn to control and tame our anger. For that, we can find supreme examples in the Sunnah of the Prophet. We should also educate our people, particularly younger generation, about anger management and non-violence.

Thirdly, inter-communal and inter-religious harmony can thrive only when we completely replace hate speech with education for tolerance.

Most importantly, we must learn that faith is just a matter of heart and soul. No one faith is superior to others. All faith or belief systems and their followers are equal and deserve equitable respect and protection. Turning it into a source or base for eschatological or cosmic strife is itself against the very essence of faith.

In today’s world, only nations that have made tremendous progress in science and technology and art are deemed superior. Those who are indulged in proving their religious superiority lag much behind in all fields in context to global development. Goethe says, ‘He who possesses art and science has religion; he who does not possess them needs religion.’ And this is exactly what is happening to us right now.

Fourth is the revival of our tolerant culture that can accommodate unity in diversity. I argue that we were equally secular and perhaps more tolerant than the West if we look back at our history and revive our cultural heritage and the works of our poets and philosophers.

Fifth, if Pakistan wants to protect faith it should chase those who kill its nationals in mosques, Imambargahs, children in schools, female polio workers on streets, and threaten the safety of life and property of the people, particularly that of religious minorities.

Sixth, the above efforts would be meaningless unless Pakistan renews its approach in foreign policy matters. Very critical in this regard is India. The military, in particular, has to change its everything-but-India attitude. The change with regard to Afghanistan seems welcoming but we have yet to see its impact domestically and in our relations with neighbors, particularly India.

Moreover, Pakistan also seriously needs reframing its ties with Riyadh because our country has suffered a great deal already from the ambivalence of leadership about the disastrous impact of the Kingdom’s funded sectarian strife. Pressing hard on the Taliban or religious seminaries will bear no fruit until Pakistan changes the dynamics of its relations with the Saudis. In this regard the help of our ally, the US, is also critical. Joe Klein, in his recent article in the Time magazine, has also pointed out the fact that America needs to have an honest and serious conversation with the Saudis who have funded Islamic radicalism in the region and the entire Islamic world.

The post YouTube and Islam in Pakistan appeared first on Laaltain.

According to previous studies by the Global Centre for the Responsibility to Protect (GCR2P), Pakistan’s religious minorities, particularly the Shias, are at risk of potential mass atrocity crimes due to sectarian attacks by outlawed Sunni militant groups like the TTP, Sipah-e-Sahaba aka Ahle-Sunat-Wal-Jamat, and Lashkar-e-Jangvi in the country. Although the GCR2P has been a bit light-handed and generous in its analysis and scrutiny, I strongly believe that Pakistan certainly comes in the loop of countries, not implying the ilk of Libya or Syria, who have failed so far in their primary responsibility to protect their populations from genocide and mass atrocity crimes.

Defining the responsibility to protect

The responsibility to protect, often termed R2P, principle grew out of the failures of states to protect their populations and the inaction of international community in the face of tragedies of mass atrocities during the 1990s. After the mass atrocity crimes in Rwanda and Srebrenica, the then Secretary General of the UN, Kofi Annan recalled in his 2000 Millennium Report, “If humanitarian intervention is, indeed, an unacceptable assault on sovereignty, how should we respond to a Rwanda, to a Srebrenica, to gross and systematic violation of human rights that offend every precept of our common humanity?” Acting on his call, subsequently, in 2001, an independent Canadian-led International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty (ICISS), tasked with devising an alternative concept and strategy for preventing conscience-shocking crimes against humanity, came up with the idea of R2P which was later unanimously endorsed by the General Assembly in 2005. Broadly speaking, R2P is based on three large pillars: Firstly, building up on the idea also expounded in the Geneva Conventions of 1949, it is every state’s responsibility to protect their populations from four crimes i.e. genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity, and ethnic cleansing. Secondly, other states should assist a failing state in its responsibility to prevent or halt mass atrocity crimes. Thirdly, if a state is manifestly unable or unwilling to do so, it becomes the responsibility of international community to prevent a conflict through its full and active engagement, including the use of military force. The cousin concept of humanitarian intervention, R2P is a more complex, multidimensional, and comprehensive principle, which offers an exhaustive toolkit of diplomatic and non-military measures for halting crimes against humanity, with, of course, the use of force as a last resort.

How Pakistan has failed in protecting its citizens

I am not, by any means, implying an intervention of any kind in Pakistan’s case, which may be precipitated if it does not rise up to the protection of its religious minorities, as some international human rights organizations have already raised their concerns about Pakistan’s failure in this regard.

Pakistan, since its birth, has not been generally conducive to religious minorities. The violent Lahore riots of 1953 against Ahmedis claimed the lives of hundreds of members of their community. That was the start, which has expanded to other sects over time, and there does not seem an end of hate against and slaughter of religious minorities in sight yet. The Ahmedis were then constitutionally declared non-Muslims in 1974 under Bhutto regime due to pressure from religious right wing, and have since been perpetrated violence against.

Similarly, 50 families, all from Balochistan, of Parsis have left the country from fear of persecution and kidnapping for ransom of high profile members of their community. The Human Rights Commission of Pakistan’s (HRCP) report confirms this fact. Hindu women in interior Sind have been compelled on forced marriages and unwilling acceptance of Islam. Similarly, pagan communities in the Kalasha Valley and adjoining areas have also been threatened with violence. In the same vein, Christian community has been harassed, particularly over the last decade, through black (blasphemy) laws where justice is dispensed in the public court run by mindless, violent, and extremely reactionary mob. Attacks have also been perpetrated on most of the important Sufi shrines of the country.

The worst of all, the Shia minority group, which makes about 15–20% of Pakistan’s total population, is the main victim of sectarian violence in the country. Among Shias, particularly, the Hazara Shia community, comprising about 500,000 members in Quetta, has suffered the brunt of sectarian attacks chiefly because they are an easy prey due to their Mongolian facial features to whom their descent is traced. Moreover, Karachi, Lahore, Rawalpindi, Chilas, Para Chinar, and Gilgit have also remained the hotspots of anti-Shia sectarian violence.

Since 1980s when Zia let the genie of religious extremism and sectarianism out of the bottle, according to the HRCP, over 4000 Shias have been killed in Pakistan. Patterns of sectarian violence against religious minorities over the last decade show that the perpetrators have mainly targeted churches, Shia Imambargahs and mosques that belong to the Ahmedi community. Some other popular patterns of sectarian violence have been the targeted killing of professionals, shopkeepers, businessmen, zairin (Shia pilgrims) traveling to Iran and Iraq, and religious leaders of the Shia community. The Shias have also been at times reactive but largely peaceful.

Similarly, attacks have also been directed at the Hazara Shia students, especially in Quetta. The Hazara Shia Students aboard buses in the city have been targeted. Among many, one such horrible attack was at the bus of Sardar Bahadur Khan University in Quetta in which more than 30 undergrad and grad female students were killed. Fortunately, on that same day, my sister who was also a masters student of English literature at the same University, had been absent. It could have been her too.

Due to fear from attacks, hundreds of Hazara students dropped out from colleges and universities in the city. In the wake of the attacks, the non-Hazara students declined to share buses with them, as buses carrying Hazara students were threatened by sectarian groups.

Moreover, thousands have been forced to migrate, both legally and illegally, mainly to Australia and Europe. Hundreds died in the sea when old, inexpensive, and overloaded boats carrying poor migrants, capsized several times. Sectarian violence and Shia massacre and persecution of other religious minorities are the specifics of blatant violations of human rights and international human rights law in Pakistan. Over 60, 000 Pakistanis, both civilians and security personnel, have been killed in terrorism related incidents over the last decade.

Since Pakistan is a member of the United Nations (UN) and a party to human rights declarations, treaties, conventions, and covenants such like the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948), International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (1966), and International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights (1966), it becomes its utmost responsibility to uphold both national and international law. There has to be a quick and robust action to defeat sectarianism, mainly against the Shias and generally against religious minorities. Though there seems some consensus and action in government’s policy in the post-Peshawar school attack, it is not sufficient.

Steps for fulfilling the responsibility to protect

In this regard, first and foremost, Pakistan has to disown and distance itself from the Saudi-led-and-run notorious Wahhabi war against its Shia competitor, Iran, for Sunni ascendance in the region. Secondly, extremist and militant Sunni groups created by the state for strategic purposes in Kashmir, India, Afghanistan, and occasionally against the west, must be disbanded. The ban should mean, like Huma Yusuf asserts, the arrest of the leadership of the banned groups and ways to stop the recurrence and resurgence of these groups under different names, which has repeatedly happened in Pakistan. No group should remain out of state’s control. The state has to reclaim its independent and sovereign power. It can if it wants to defeat religious terrorism and sectarianism.

Thirdly, the financial support of these groups from Riyadh and Gulf monarchies must be cut down. Fourthly, the culture of impunity for the terrorists must end, as it has been precisely the reason that has failed us so far in defeating this evil. If the Sharif brothers are afraid of Asmatullah Muawiah and want to cut a deal with him after his involvement in terrorism for a long time, they must rethink their policy or step down. They are elected to save the nation, not Raiwand or only Punjab. Hafiz Saeed, Malik Ishaq, and their ilk must be declared as terrorists and put in jail for life time.

Fifthly and most importantly, at least on the issue of religious terrorism and sectarianism, all political parties must take a united stance, as it is a serious common threat to the nation’s survival. Short of a unanimous national policy standpoint and concerted efforts against extremism, all party conferences do not mean anything. What matters the most is what all political parties do together for defeating religious sectarianism and terrorism. In this regard, the Sharif’s conservative PML‑N, in disregard of the fear of losing its vote bank to the Imran’s ultra-conservative Pakistan Tehrek-e-Insaf (PTI) in Punjab, must generally change its attitude and policy towards extremist groups in the province. The PTI leader, Imran Khan, must also reframe his thinking towards religious militants. The religious political parties such as Jamiat-Ulema-e-Islam Fazalur Rehman (JUI‑F) and Jamaat-e-Islami (JI) must give up their culture of denial and hypocrisy. The right wing religious political leadership must either side with the state in its narrative and action against religious terrorism, or step aside and face the consequences. Much commendable in this regard though, has been the role of Awami National Party (ANP), Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM), Pukhtunkhwa Milli Awami Party (PKMAP), and Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP).

Sixthly, Madaris (religious seminaries) that spread hate must be closed down. Generally, Madaris must be strictly scrutinized and brought under state’s control. The Madaris’ leaders who fail to act in line with the state’s national policy on terrorism must be put in jail for there can never be a state within a state. Finally, the Operation Zarb-e-Azb must continue. The judiciary, police, and other security institutions must utilize their full strength and resources to bring the perpetrators of violence to the book. The security of judges of civilian courts must be ensured for fairly and judiciously deciding terrorism cases.

(Continued)

The post Pakistan’s Responsibility to Protect appeared first on Laaltain.

But the critical question is that how do we build consensus around this problem? It is extremely challenging to do so, as, at this point, our leaders, state machinery, political parties, media, and people are awfully fragmented on what our problem is and who and what causes it. Pathetically, many still strongly believe that Indians, Israelis, and the Americans are behind the attack on school children in Peshawar. It is an adaptive challenge, which requires deeper thinking and sound understanding. Here is how, I think, we can address such a challenge.

First, we will not get any traction with solving this problem unless we deconstruct our decades or perhaps centuries-old dangerous hate narrative — that this is a war between Islam and infidelity, and that anything that happens to us is caused by the infidels — and reconstruct a more inclusive discussion in which we spot on our own predicaments and educate our fellow citizens about them.

This poisonous narrative, constructed after the wahabi and salafi teachings of Ibn Taymiyyah and Syed Wahab and then the schoolings of right wing political Islamist or Islamic fundamentalist thinkers such like Modoudi and Qutub, which is overtaken now by their virulent and violent cousins, the neo-fundamentalists like Taliban, Qaeda, and IS, is a fundamental hindrance in achieving peace and prosperity in the country.

For deconstructing such story, a number of things need to be done. One, the state must give up on sponsoring religious extremism. Two, religion and state must be separated i.e. its role must be either faith blind or faith neutral, as the columnist Faisal Bari rightly asserts. Three, the government needs to reform syllabi both in schools and madrassas, which perpetuate inter-and-intra-religious hate speech. Most importantly, madrassas whose number, according to the most conservative state record and certainly without the mention of unregistered ones, in Pakistan goes pass 24000 now, need serious scrutiny by the state. Each year, about over half a million young people graduate from madrassas, who are taught to obey, not to question anything told in the name of religion. Many of these unskilled young, unemployed men have nothing to do but to be employed in religion and serve the jihad industry.

Four, both the government and the public have to keep a check on sermons from the mosque, which have been promoting this dangerous narrative by spitting venom against religious minorities and non-Muslims in general. I really doubt that the Taliban will be called thugs, criminals, and murderers in the coming Juma sermons.

Second, the Pakistani state relies heavily on conspiracy theories. In fact, these conspiracy theories are deliberately constructed and used as a political tool to confuse the public and manipulate their opinion. It is clear now that this unholy and deadly “jihad”, having been tamed in our land and in the region for over three decades, is not in Pakistan’s national interest. It serves the interests only of a few individuals and institutions they run and their religious proxies. After this tragic episode, it must be clearer to all Pakistanis that their “jihad” is about killing and bleeding our innocent children.

This was made clearer in 1980s by the visionary Pashtun political leader Wali Khan of Awami National Party who warned that the fire that the Pakistani state was setting alight in Afghanistan will one day cross the Attock Bridge and burn us. They did not listen to him then and instead continued sponsoring for longer the so-called “jihad” by making a distinction between the “good” and ‘bad’ Taliban, which they, some say, claim to have abandoned now. Yet, I do not think that they have completely abaondoned such narrative or are willing to invent an alternative national discourse and a robust course of action to put an end to terrorism.

Seemingly, the establishment is still creating confusions for the nation through their stooges in religion, in media, and in politics. In the wake of the recent incident, it seems that TV channels, by inviting Maulana Aziz to guide the nation on how to counter jiahadism and terrorism, propagate and further strengthen the extremist narrative. Similarly, jihadi groups like Lashkar-e-Taiba and Sipha-e-Sahaba enjoy state’s patronage to help it further spread its narrative by terrifying people and teaching jihadi Islam. Madrassas and even public schools and universities serve not as learning centers but as factories of conspiracy theories. Many madrassas, in particular, function as the wheels and machines of jihad industry, ideologically, materially, and logistically.

Most importantly, not only this, but that the state is also controlling opinion through its coercive antennae or secret services, the harsh and inhuman blasphemy laws, and religious proxies which have free license to harm, silence or kill those who try to counter their monopoly on the discourse.

This suffocation and silence has to break down and the state’s conspiracy theories and half truth are to be debunked if Pakistan is resolved to create an agreement that the creeping religious extremism is our problem. And that this contagious disease is breeding among us and killing our people. In this regard, we, both on state and societal levels, need to challenge our overblown fear and paranoia with India and the West which is keeping us from recognizing and accepting the problem. If we still fail to do so, this narrative will further plunge us into darkness. We need to be one and united to defeat the deadly lies and come up with our own clear and true narrative.

Third and most importantly, we have to test our utter and frantic confusions. It is extremely pathetic that the whole nation, even after the deaths of over 50,000 Pakistanis by Taliban in over a decade, is still confused about its main enemy. Taliban still enjoy sympathy among people and religious, political, and military bigwigs. This tragic incident in Peshawar must act as a wake-up call for the people and the government.

It is high time now that we, on individual level, reject conspiracy theories, give up relying on dangerously loaded inherited beliefs, ask the right questions, read and rely on credible sources, and make our own opinion that truly reflects the right use of reason and wisdom. We have to rise up and raise our voices. The Taliban’s and their backers’ narrative is very powerful. Ours is still weak. We have to fight back and have to remember that the Taliban and their version of religion is our problem and a serious threat to our survival. We do not have to wait for the state to do so because we have already wasted much time doing so.

The post Reframing the Narrative: If not Now, When? appeared first on Laaltain.