Efforts to Defuse Protests in Pakistan Are Marred By the Obsession with the Foreign Hand
By
Arifa Noor
January 12,
2021
Ya Rab Wo Na Samjhe Hain Na Samjhenge Meri Baat
De Aur Dil Un Ko Jo Na De Mujh Ko Zabaan Aur—
Ghalib
TO an
English-medium brat who studied Urdu during the regime of Ziaul Haq, Urdu
poetry was introduced through the words of Ghalib or Mir Taqi Mir — Faiz Ahmed
Faiz, the giant who today is quoted by the entire political range, was a no-no
back then — and viewed as simply romantic stuff. We giggled over Mir’s cheesy ‘Patta
Patta, Boota Boota Haal Humara Jaane…’ and swooned over Ghalib’s ‘Ussi
Ko Dekh Ke Jeete Hain Jis Qatil Par Dum Nikle’. Between the class and
glimpses of Gulzar’s television series on Ghalib, it was hard to see much else
in his poetry. But the past week changed this.
The
intransigence, the intemperate language used, useless quibbling over when the
prime minister’s visit would be made to a people whose suffering in the past
decade or so has become a burden on the Pakistani soul — it seemed as if Ghalib
was writing of this very indifferent and distant ruler and state.
There is a
sense of a constancy in his words — as if in the relationship, again and again
the same offence or hurt is repeated and so is the complaint, with no change
and no relief. Thus for the Hazara who take again and again to the roads with
their dead to protest the brutality visited upon them. And though their pain
and loss have taken on biblical proportions, they are not alone in adopting
this form of protest.
In
Pakistan, with its multitude of problems, the ordinary citizen has little else
in his or her arsenal and no option but to take to the streets. Little else
catches the attention of those at the helm. The senseless killing of Usama
Satti may not have got the attention it did if his father had not also blocked
Srinagar Highway in protest. Taking to the roads, causing the flow of big
expensive cars to slow down and inconveniencing the powerful is the only way to
get Apni Baat or one’s voice heard.
If this
wasn’t so, small groups of protesters who gather outside the press club
momentarily and then melt away into the silence and anonymity too would be
remembered. But they are not. The ground outside the Islamabad Press Club has —
before the pandemic — always housed such protests by travellers to the capital
from distant regions but they are rarely noticed by those who drive by. Now if
they spilled on to the adjacent road, it would be a different story.
But what we
learnt this past week was that even sorrow acknowledged by all is not enough to
move a ruler who has been forced to take notice. For it is not for the public
to impose conditions on the powerful; only the powerful can impose conditions
on the powerful as did the PTI in 2014 when it made its Dharna conditional on
the then prime minister’s resignation, or the PDM can make its protests
conditional on the present one’s resignation. Apparently, the PDM’s show of
power and a ghettoised minority sitting with their loved ones’ remains on the
roads seem rather similar in the eyes of those inhabiting Constitution Avenue.
The only
difference perhaps is that the powerless demonstrating on the roads can usually
be convinced to give up their protest within days. And then be lectured about
the grand conspiracies and regional power games responsible for their loss and
misery.
This is
perhaps unique to Pakistan; and I don’t mean the lecturing to the weak, though
that too is a national malaise. What is more intriguing is that our rulers see
a crisis, recognise it as a crisis and then refuse to defuse it quickly and
urgently because they ‘know’ there is a foreign, enemy role in it. (There are
entirely domestic situations also where governments have let a crisis deepen
because of the internal Khalai, or ‘alien’, role in it but let’s leave that for
another day.)
So, it was
this past week. No one denied the tragedy of the 11 miners who had been killed,
the suffering of the Hazaras and their systematic killing over the years, or
their right to protest. But apparently, the role played by ‘others’ who are
manipulating them and creating instability is reason enough to play hard ball.
Hence, let’s point out the larger, regional great games, let’s raise questions
about those who were delaying the agreement reached and signed, and hint at the
identity and affiliations of those who were stopping the poor families who were
ready to bury their loved ones.
Because
apparently doing all this is easier than the prime minister reaching out
immediately, ending the protest and the crisis — which in turn would not allow
ill-meaning foreign hands the space to make mischief.
But then
such logic evades more than just the prime minister. There was another such
protest three years ago, which too began with one death in an extrajudicial
killing in Karachi. It led to protests and marches and turned into a movement
for the rights of a people who feel they have been served a raw deal.
However,
here too, the efforts to defuse it are often marred by the obsession with the
foreign hand. And because they are greater in number than the Hazara, coercion
is at play. There are information blackouts, strong-arm tactics such as arrests
and FIRs, and now an elected member is at risk of losing his seat. And no one
to ask if these measures will resolve the problem more quickly than defusing
the crisis by reaching out. Because somehow for the Pakistani state, including
those elected to power, crises are only worth defusing and people to be soothed
if there is not a whiff of any manipulation or ill intent fuelled by outsiders.
For this to
change, we have to wait — for the miracle that Ghalib had written about years
ago.
----
Arifa
Nooris a journalist.
Original
Headline: Protesting in Pakistan
Source: The Dawn,
Pakistan
New Age Islam, Islam Online, Islamic Website, African Muslim News, Arab World News, South Asia News, Indian Muslim News, World Muslim News, Women in Islam, Islamic Feminism, Arab Women, Women In Arab, Islamophobia in America, Muslim Women in West, Islam Women and Feminism