It is beyond tragic that the men that shot human rights advocate Rashid Rehman five times, had to pretend to be clients in order to kill him.
After all, why should pious men undertaking God’s work ever have to come in disguise like cold blooded cowards?
They should have learnt a thing or two from their comrade, Advocate Zulfiqar Sindhu, who being the self-appointed messiah that he is, blatantly pronounced a death sentence for Rehman in an open court.
What a remarkably honest man.
Rehman too, should have known better. He worked for the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP); a quick look at the HRCP’s annual report for 2013 would have informed him that the ‘pious men of God’ burned down 100 homes as residents fled fearing for their lives, 17 Ahmadis, 13 Christians and nine Muslims were forced to live in indefinite detention inside prisons awaiting death, as no one is willing to take up their case and the lawyers who are compelled to do so keep leaving one after another.
Activists stage a protest against the killing of Rashid Rehman. —Photo by Tanveer Shahzad – DAWN
With Rehman’s murder that too shall end.
Rehman should have known better than to challenge men who would not even spare him after his death; he should have reread the stories of the Hindus of Badin who weredug out of their graves because they were buried in the wrong graveyard.
In an email, a few days before his death, Rehman raised concerned over media reports that covered a “one-sided” story. He felt irresponsible reporting was flaming the issue.
I am surprised no one replied to remind him about Meher Bokhari’s hour-long TV show reading out fatwas against a sitting Governor who was later shot over 20 times and killed for seeking pardon for a blasphemy accused mother.
Rehman should have known better than to expect the media to cover both sides of the story. If he was being fair and honest, he would have known that when it comes to God’s self-appointed helpers, there is no other side to the story, you can choose between a life of solitary confinement or a lynch mob. A lynch mob is usually easier and quicker.
One fine evening in September 2012, a law abiding, zealous and concerned countryman made a phone call to the Prime Minister’s office “Raja sahab, have you read the news? The Libyans have killed the US ambassador and the situation is out of control. I can not believe it, it’s incomprehensible. We must fix this at once, it’s important that we do so now”.
Shortly after, then Prime Minister Raja Pervez Ashraf did what duty demanded of him, he passed an executive order to ban access to YouTube. It made absolute sense, but that wasn’t enough, duty demanded that the state go one step ahead – not to be competitive with Libya or Egypt – and sanction a day for “showing love to the Prophet”. And so, passionate lovers thronged the streets of Karachi, Lahore, and Islamabad and showered their affection by pelting stones, setting ablaze a few buildings and a bunch of cars; yes, passion can be ruthless.
After the ban in Pakistan was imposed, Afghanistan and Bangladesh followed lead. Both have since revoked the ban, to be clear Pakistan remains the only country in the world where YouTube is still blocked in reaction to the infamous video.
Although, there was a moment of clarity in December 2012 when the ban was revoked, but that quite literally lasted for two hours only. Letters, features, reports, articles and even court summons have gone unnoticed by the now Minister of State for Information Technology, Anusha Rehman Khan. Where Pakistan People’s Party that takes great pride in it’s liberal and democratic values initiated the ban, the Pakistan Muslim League (N) despite it’s love for economy, has paid no heed to the plight of artists, entrepreneurs, academics and businesses.
In countries where a local version of YouTube existed – an official legal presence of the company – the option to remove the video from their jurisdiction seemed an easy option to satisfy rioters and angry citizens. The method is simple, in areas where YouTube has a local presence a request can be sent by authorities to take down certain content citing a law and/or a court order. However, a quick look at theGoogle Transparency Report reveals that only a small portion of such takedown requests are complied with. In Pakistan’s case, however, Google does not have a local presence and therefore doesn’t abide by the local laws. [See Google’s response to localisation and content removal in Pakistan’s case].
In countries like Bangladesh, that faced a similar situation like Pakistan, there is an option of placing an ‘interstitial’ – a warning screen – before the content, because on the internet, unlike television, access to content is mostly voluntary. Unless a user switches on their computer, connects it to the internet and proactively looks for the content, there’s a very slim chance they would be able to stumble upon it. So a warning screen before an offensive video seemed a sensible option.
But of course, we didn’t buy that, we want the video to be removed in its entirety, which begs the question even if it is removed from access in Pakistan, does it change the fact that it will still be accessible? If its still accessible elsewhere, how does that change anything? And even if it is removed from around the world, how does it prevent others from pulling off similar stunts? If there was ever a way to demonstrate a quick fire way to deprive a country of 180 million from access to information, we made it pretty darn easy.
This now brings me to the recent hoopla, a district court in San Francisco hasdirected Google to remove the ‘Innocence of Muslims’ video on copyright grounds based on a plea made by actress Cindy Lee Garcia. The claims are similar to the ones that were reported when the video was released, that the actress was ‘duped’ into appearing in the video, was unaware of the content, had not signed release orders, and received threats after it was uploaded.
Following the order, the video has been removed from YouTube (for now), a quick search reveals trailers that show a “copyright takedown screen”. Its important to remember the court order is in light of the copyright violation and not the nature of the content of the video, similarly Google’s reaction to the court order is on the use of the copyright law for content takedown and not the nature of the content in question.
The government that was quick to keep access to the site blocked has been exceptionally slow with their response. Surprise, surprise! The ban was never based on the video but a good-looking public excuse to allow filters to be installed that can make room for blanket surveillance and censorship. National security, blasphemy and immorality have made for great excuses to censor information.
From the anatomy of the breast to breast cancer, we’ve got all our national security threats sorted and successfully blocked. There might be a phone call in the offing to tell Minister sahiba and brief PM sahab on how the video may reappear once again, never mind other petty issues such as the Taliban offensive and the education emergency that demand our immediate attention, and the ministry will have yet another public excuse to keep the ban going.
In the past six months, we have heard it all, from buying filters to blocking access to the specific video, to renting filters from PTCL, to forcing Google to localise, to banning all of Google if it doesn’t comply, to now, finding a new excuse to keep the site blocked, there is no method to this madness, neither an end.
It took well over a year for the court in San Francisco to make its decision, Google will be challenging the decision based on the use of the copyright law, which in case of a content sharing website could be lethal, but that might take a while.
The state has in its hands a unique opportunity to mend its ways, we can either choose to dig our heads out of the sand or keep shooting ourselves in the foot; I’ll keep the Band-Aids handy.
امیر جماعت اسلامی پاکستان سید منور حسن — فائل فوٹو –.
امیر محترم جناب منور حسن صاحب
امید ہے آپ خیریت سے ہوں گے۔ میں نے یہ خط لکھنے سے پہلے کافی سوچ بچار کی کہ کہیں آپ کی حالیہ پریشانیوں میں اضافہ نہ کر دوں پر چوہدری نثار صاحب کی التجائی تقریر اور آپ کا اپنے بیان پر قائم رہنے کے بعد اور کوئی چارہ نہ بچا۔
میں نے پہلے بھی آپ کو ایک خط لکھا تھا پر اسکا کوئی جواب نہیں آیا، کوئی بات نہیں خط ویسے بھی عورتوں کے ساتھ ہونے والی زیادتی کے بارے میں تھا ایسی چیزوں کو ہمارے معاشرے میں کہاں اہمیت دی جاتی ہے۔
کیا فرق پڑتا ہے اگر ایک پانچ سالہ بچی کو درندگی کا نشانہ بنا کر زندہ دفنا دیا جائے۔ اس کا اپنے آپ کو اس قبر سے باہر نکالنا بھی کس کام کا جب وہ آپ کی ہدایت کے مطابق چار گواہ نہ پیش کر سکے۔ چار سالہ مہوش کی بات بھی کیا کوئی سنے گا، اس کا مجرم تو کیمرے کے سامنے اسے ہسپتال چھوڑ گیا، شاید آپ یہ کہیں کہ ہمیں شکر گزار ہونا چاہیے کہ وہ بچی کو ہسپتال تو پہنچا گیا۔
خیر غیر ضروری گفتگو پر معذرت، میں صرف آپ سے کچھ سوال پوچھنا چاہوں گی۔ عرض یہ ہے کہ کچھ عرصے قبل انٹرنیٹ پر انیس سو اسی میں کیے گئے ایک انٹرویو کی اسکینڈ تصویر شائع کی گئی۔ انٹرویو برطانوی اخبار انڈیپینڈینٹ میں شائع ہوا اور مشہور کالم نگار روبرٹ فسک نے لکھا تھا. تاریخ سے نا واقف لوگوں کے لئے یہ ایک کافی حیرت انگیز انٹرویو تھا، جس میں اسامہ بن لادن کو ایک بہادر مجاہد قرار دیا گیا جو کہ امن کی جنگ لڑ رہا ہے۔
آپ جیسے تاریخ سے واقف لوگوں کے لئے شاید یہ حیرت انگیز نہ ہو پر کافی لوگوں کے لئے تھا۔ آپ کے حال ہی کے بیان سے مجھے خیال آیا کے دریافت کروں؛
“اگر امریکا کا مارا ہوا کتا شہید یا امریکا کی جنگ لڑنے والا ہلاک ہے تو ستر کی دہائی میں افغانستان میں لڑنے والا جنگجو ہلاک ہوا یا شہید؟”
کیا امریکا کے پیسوں پر جہاد جائز ہے؟
اور اگر نہیں تو تاریخ کی اس عظیم کوتاہی کو کس طرح سدھارا جائے؟ کیونکہ اگر آپ کو یاد ہو تو امریکا نے نا صرف ٹریننگ میں مدد کی بلکہ بھاری بھرکم اسلحہ اور پیسے بھی فراہم کئے تھے. اس وقت کمیونزم کے خلاف جنگ کو جہاد بنا دیا گیا تھا اور جے آئی کے کارکنان نے اس کی بھرپور حمایت کی.
ایک اور بات، جن سترہ فوجیوں کا تیراہ میں گلہ کاٹا گیا وہ ہلاک ہوئے یا شہید؟ کیا ان کی موت سلالہ میں شہید ہونے والے سپاہیوں سے کم تر ہے؟ اگر ہے تو مہربانی کر کے ان کے عزیزواقارب کو اطلاع کر دیں جو اپنے جوان بچوں کی کٹی ہوئی لاشیں دفنا کر تمغوں کے سہارے زندہ ہیں۔ پاک فوج کے سپاہیوں کی تو شاید آپ کو فکر نہیں پر اپنے پرانے افغان جنگجو دوستوں کی ہی قدر کریں اور آخری بار تاریخ درست کر دیں۔
گستاخی معاف، یہ انٹرنیٹ بھی عجیب چیز ہے، مغرب کا ایک اور حربہ، پر کبھی اس پر کرنل امام کے قاتل کی ویڈیو ضرور دیکھیے گا شاید پرانے جنگجو دوستوں کی ایک پرانی ترکیب یاد آ جائے۔
Rape. It’s one of those words that I can repeat a thousand times over without ever associating myself with it. I hear, read & speak about it often, but without a sense of self. I say that because I’m a rape survivor.
I survived rape even before I knew it existed, let alone comprehend the pain and complexities it brings with it during & years after. I can talk about its repercussions and the every minute struggle, I can speak of pain, the lack of understanding on how rape is more about violence and less about rape, can testify to its ability to mess with your brain & everything else, but what I can’t do or don’t do enough is associate it with myself, my life & who I am today. I survived rape. But there’s more to my life than just that. I’ve achieved more than I ever imagined I would, most of all I’ve been loved more than I ever though anyone could ever be. I’m not social, but I am friendly, I can feel compassion and be passionate & motivated by things. But while I continue to live my life, there are also these tiny moments of relapse, of vulnerability, sometimes I feel it’s like life is more like playing mine sweeper, you never know when you hit a trigger & everything goes roaring back to zero.
But my rape doesn’t define me. It’s only a fraction of time, among all the other moments I cherish and regret. It’s a part of my life. It’s not my identity either. But my rape, and I say ‘my’ as means to eliminate the last bit of shame — unintentionally unknown shame that’s not mine to keep, is what unfortunately shapes my interactions & thought process many a time. The sight of a staircase, a broken branch, a ball rolling down an alleyway, a rope. Far too many harmless things that have the ability to cause severe emotional and physical pain. Sometimes the triggers are so severe that all I can think is pushing back every single thing that could possibly protect me; to isolate myself and detach completely. The flashbacks, they’re lethal, it’s like each time your abuser comes back physically in front of you, his voice in whispers
” No one’s going to hear you scream, no one’s coming to help..”
Like everything you’ve ever been able to accomplish is razed to the ground within moments. But those words have never meant anything to me like they did today. When I felt that I’ve lost my only one ability that allowed me to act, my ability to listen & my words; that’s all my strength. But I know that this too shall pass, but for starters I want to hold on to the only thing that gives me strength & use them to tell my story.
You don’t need to know who I’m. Please allow me the anonymity & the ability to tell my story without taking any more burdens.
I write to you in the hope of assisting you in a rather arduous task being assigned to you by the PTA. If recent reports are to be believed, the Pakistan telecommunication authority has done the unthinkable; in a rare moment of clarity the PTA has requested the parliament to define ‘blasphemy’.
Yes, after the country’s governor was shot 27 times for seeking pardon for a blasphemy accused mother, his murderer garlanded by lawyers and defended by the ex-Chief Justice of the Lahore High Court, a 14-year-old young girl and her family driven out of the country, a 70-year-old mentally unstable woman sentenced to 14 years in jails, several hundred burnt houses and dozens of lynched dead bodies later, you’ve finally been approached to determine what exactly classifies as blasphemy.
If you ask me, it’s rather strange that none of the incidents – or call them random acts of insanity – I summarised were able to do what a B-grade filmmaker was able to achieve. But then again, priorities! We are a nation of strange people and reactions; we forgive the unforgivable and punish ourselves for the crimes of others.
Without wasting much time, I’d want to discuss the important issue at hand. Now that you’ve been given the responsibility of defining blasphemy for the nation, given how difficult it is to be specific, and government policies are by their nature vague, I’d say go with enlisting instances of blasphemy for clarity’s sake:
One commits blasphemy each time they harm another in the name of religion.
One commits blasphemy each time they incite hatred for another in the name of religion.
One commits blasphemy each time they justify murder in the name of religion.
One commits blasphemy each time they persecute another for their faith or lack of it.
One commits blasphemy each time they infringe the right to freedom of expression, opinion or movement of another, in the name of religion.
For the biggest form of blasphemy that we all almost always commit is to force another to live in fear for believing, speaking, thinking and sometimes even existing, as we justify it in the name of our faith or stand silent as we bear witness.
No videos, sketches or hate speeches have hurt Islam more than the reckless army of blood thirsty goons justifying vandalism in the name of religion.
There doesn’t exist a form of disrespect bigger than justifying cold-blooded murder and hate in God’s name. To instill fear and lawlessness in the society and to justify that as an act of faith. End the insanity now, tell the nation that we aren’t all potential blasphemers waiting to be lynched as and when the opportunity arises.
Trust me; it might do a lot more than just unblocking YouTube.
How our hatred for the white man saviour complex is allowing us to belittle our heroes
You want to witness privilege in action, read a column by Nicholas Kristof or watch an episode of Oprah. Call it a way of life if you will, to assume that the burden of the world’s problems lie on your shoulders and you can solve it by the click of a button. Poverty in Africa, child marriage in Afghanistan or the Taliban in Pakistan, name anything and it can be resolved by sheer enthusiasm and a condescending sense of privilege.
It’s got nothing to do with solidarity or justice.
The white-saviour-industrial-complex consumes most of our international media coverage and, unfortunately, most of our diplomatic relations too. It’s a world where nuance goes to die. People become regional experts instantly; if you’ve read an article or two about Pakistan, seen a few news items you’re well in the race to become an expert. Toss a bit of experience with eating daal or biryani and you might as well start commenting on the threats facing the country’s nuclear weapons and the women that need saving.
Fortunately for us, a considerable number of people call it out, but more recently our critique of the white saviour has deprived us from acknowledging our most valuable; our children.
When the story of Malala first emerged and as the media coverage began showing the ‘evil Taliban’ killing children for going to school, a wave of retaliation emerged, like most societies or people most of us don’t like being criticised. It would be okay if it wasn’t for the fact that it wasn’t our criticism to take. The Taliban do not represent us, their views do not represent ours, we don’t want to live in a society where children are threatened to go to school; if anything we want to live in a country free from the insecurity, the constant scrutiny and the corruption we struggle with every single day.
It’s true that not all human rights violations get the attention they deserve, the media industry we have is at best manipulative and heavily politicised. When children that are reported dead in drone strikes or military action do not get the attention they deserve, attention that would call an end to extra judicial murders, we are in the right to be angry. But we are bigoted, hypocritical and self flagellating when we blame the victim of one act of terror for the lack of acknowledgement of the other.
Think for a moment about being attacked or losing a family member. Now imagine having to battle reactions that question you on why you should be allowed to grieve when others aren’t. It’s delusional nonsense that’s rooted in apathy not concern for human life. The criticism of the white man’s burden, the criticism for people selectively raging on human rights issues, the criticism for possible media bias should not rob us off our empathy, it shouldn’t blind us from the realities of our lives.
By demonising Malala’s struggle, her critics follow the trait they loathe — the politicisation of human rights.
Ironic as it seems, the rightful but blind rage against hypocrisy has aided bigotry for our own. Malala’s struggle isn’t her fight alone, it is the fight of the children of FATA who due to excessive military action — both drones and air-force shelling — have been deprived of their right to life, it represents one of every ten children in Pakistan who is unable to go to school.
Rather than frowning upon the fact that Malala’s family chose to live outside of Pakistan, let’s work towards a country where our children should never have to fear for their lives or be rescued and forced to live a life away from home. Politicising a human rights issue in response to politicisation of another human rights issue only leads to polarisation not reason.
It’s not farfetched, a rational possibility that one could condemn suicide bombings and also be outraged by drone attacks. As people, we stand painfully divided and unless we break free from our passivity and apathy and mobilise to take back our rights, there’s little hope for the future.
Pakistan’s historic election is history. Historic because it is the first time a government has completed its term without being ruthlessly axed, toppled by military dictatorship or unelected politicians.
It was also one of the bloodiest elections in the country’s history. At the end of three weeks of campaigning, at least 117 people including election candidates have been killed. Former Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif began talks on Sunday to form a new government, The New York Times reported.
As the campaigns proceeded, the rift became clearer: the Taliban threatened and attacked specific political parties namely, Awami National Party, Pakistan People’s Party and Muttahida Qaumi Movement, derailing their campaigns to the point where the parties had to shut down their election offices. Even that didn’t stop the terror attacks, as locked and empty political party offices continued to be targeted. The Taliban claimed that the political parties being targeted were secular and worked against the ideology of Islam. Although the Taliban were the biggest perpetrators, they weren’t the only ones: political rivalries and attacks continued throughout the country during campaign time. Only Punjab, one of the country’s largest provinces, remained relatively terror free.
Moreover, the political parties that were not on the Taliban hit list shied away from calling out the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan over the attacks, despite condemning the attacks vocally. Eventually, as a gesture of solidarity, Pakistan Tehreek – e – Insaaf, party led by Imran Khan, announced to it would withdraw all its scheduled events for election campaigning in Karachi.
Violence, Moral Policing and the Constitution
Violent attacks by far have been the biggest deterrent to political campaigning this election, sustaining attacks because of their secular ideology shunned political workers from expressing their views, further bifurcating the already polarised political and social discourse.
But hindrance to freedom of expression began as early as the election process itself. The election commission sparked a huge debate when the nomination papers of a renowned columnist were rejected by the district returning officer, or RO, “for writing against the ideology of Pakistan” in his columns. But even more concerning was the fact that the objection was raised by invoking the constitution’s Article 62 & 63, introduced during the much-reviled dictatorship of Zia-ul-Haq. To paraphrase, the articles made it mandatory for prospective political candidates to have a clean criminal record; of being of noble and sound character reflecting the Islamic beliefs and of not having ever worked against the security and interest of the nation or having criticized the military or the judiciary, amongst other things.
The account of journalist and politician Ayaz Amir was even more revealing: “I was told that in my column I have endorsed liquor drinking. I really don’t know from where the RO has got this impression, as I have not written anything like this.” As fellow journalist Omar Warraich aptly summed it, it seemed Amir was being disqualified for a thought crime. Amir challenged this in the Lahore High Court, which reversed the RO’s decision, allowing Amir to contest elections. However, that hasn’t stopped the much needed debate around Pakistan’s amended constitution, which successfully cripples freedom of speech, expression and even privacy by subjecting it to ‘reasonable restrictions’ from vague terms like ‘glory of Islam’ to a subjective issue of ‘morality’.
The missing voters
It’s hard not to acknowledge the void left by the missing voters — women, the nearly 1.5 million people of Gilgit Baltistan and the four million Ahmadis. Although their plights may vary, the issue remains the same — a significant segment of the society will watch the elections unfold from a distance and not enough has been done to ensure their participation.
The Ahmadiyya community has boycotted the elections process for at least three decades after a law declared them ‘non-Muslims’. This was exacerbated in 2011 when the election commission created a separate voters list for the Ahmadis. This action marginalised them even further. Even though Pakistan’s Supreme Court took the discrimination complaint under serious consideration, it ruled that the court couldn’t over rule a constitutional command. The past few years have been tumultuous for the country’s religious minorities, the boycott from the Ahmadiyya community might deter other religious minorities from voting.
A report published last year by Pakistan’s Fair & Free Election Network, approximately 10 million Pakistani women were unaccounted for in the draft electoral rolls released in 2011. With the exception of a few, political parties have remained largely negligent of mobilising the women voters. Despite powerful women in the assembly and strikingly powerful stories of women candidates the issue remains: How many women will turn up to exercise their right to vote? Will the stories of candidate Veeru Kohli, bonded labourer from Hyderabad and Badam Zari of Bajaur inspire more women voters to practice their rights? Reports suggest otherwise.