IF a string of recent events have sparked a bit of optimism among the observers of the country’s politics and students of its rather tragic history it is indeed a welcome development.
When such columnists and writers, who had been forced by decades of depression due to an endless downward spiral into being no more than prophets of doom and gloom, begin to see and acknowledge signs of change it appears a safe bet to believe something positive is afoot.
Side by side with this optimism, another debate that has adorned the op-ed pages of major newspapers, at least in the English language, has focused on whether Pakistan can ever be a liberal society or will remain conservative. Frankly, I lack the intellectual prowess to take sides in this debate.
Let me share, nonetheless, what gives me hope about our country’s future; in fact, what has always filled me with hope about tomorrow: Pakistan’s women. Yes, its women, so many of whom toil unsung in the far reaches of the country more than equal in their contribution to the household income but still tragically unequal in status, in wages and in many other aspects.
Before the state recently applied the brakes and did an about-turn from the road to perdition it seemed committed to, for years and years the only ray of hope that I nurtured and cherished was that half of the country’s population would one day rise up and prevent what seemed like a determined attempt at collective suicide.
A revolution is under way with a large number of urban women from all socioeconomic tiers excelling in their field.
What gave me this optimism? Well let me tell you. Before my third birthday I was struck by the polio virus. Lack of awareness of polio’s ravages meant there was no inoculation. Even some of the top paediatricians were ignorant of the disease and I was treated for several weeks for typhoid.
My mother was a small-framed woman with a steely resolve. Despite being devastated by what had happened to me (I was told by family and friends much later in life), she never betrayed any signs of her anguish.
Over the following years of my life she not only taught me to walk a second time but also drummed into me a never-say-die spirit. We lived in Rawalpindi and often headed to Murree for picnics with other families.
My mother would carry me on her hip to the highest point other children got to, to play. I am sure if she needed to she’d drag me up the hill too so I didn’t feel left behind. Thus, I grew up feeling pretty self-assured and saw my disability as no more than a minor inconvenience.
From my mother the baton passed to some of the most incredible teachers one can have. All of whom were women. For me learning from them was not just about the ‘course’ for the year. They taught me the meaning of respect, of equality and of decency. Each one determined that I had all I needed to succeed despite the obvious mobility challenge.
Oh yes, the law of averages did kick in and one or two of my women teachers left a lot to be desired like some of their male counterparts. But on the whole, whether in my circle of family and friends or in my professional life, the women who have influenced me with their professionalism and commitment would outnumber men.
One criticism that is the favourite of nit-pickers is that most women role models belong to the elite, the affluent, Western-educated, upper middle class that rests on or near the highest point of the nation’s socioeconomic pyramid.
I don’t agree. Just to mention three, where did Mukhtar Mai, Kainat Soomro and Malala Yousafzai all women of substance come from? They came from either the middle class or the lowest rung of the socioeconomic ladder and look what they have achieved with their grit.
It is true that I am restraining myself from naming more women as my word count limitation will not permit to but seriously look around you and acknowledge the excellence that women bring to each endeavour.
In my journalistic career, I have worked with two of the gutsiest editors in Pakistan and both happened to be women. The news magazines they edited were a tribute to their vision and their commitment to the truth.
The pluralistic society and sanity they advocated through their pages was done through difficult, turbulent times and yet we, the reporters, were free to seek out the truth and write everything we wanted to. We were never confronted with a ‘no’ for an answer.
Today too our women colleagues hold up the banner of objective journalism aloft. Dawn’s refocused op-ed pages have much to do with the newspaper’s first woman op-ed editor, Zubeida Mustafa, with whom I worked. Women on the editorial team continue to provide nuanced brilliance to date. The reporters’ bylines tell their own story too. Elsewhere in the media, in parliament, in law, in medicine, science, architecture, in fact wherever you look a revolution is under way with a large number of urban women from all socioeconomic tiers excelling and leaving their long-entrenched male peers, well, sitting.
All that society needs to do to reinforce the sense of optimism currently being expressed and to accelerate to the promise of a brighter tomorrow is to let the women take their rightful place at the helm; create an enabling environment where the women can do what they want to and see what happens.
It isn’t difficult to imagine what Pakistan will look like given where our women have got to despite endless obstacles in their path whether in the name of culture, traditions or most ominously religion. Ability and potential, not gender bias, will determine our future.
The writer is a former editor of Dawn.
abbas.nasir@hotmail.com
Published in Dawn, March 12th, 2016
IN the wake of the terrorist attack on Bacha Khan University (BKU), Charsadda, the law-enforcement agencies throughout the country scrambled to beef up the security of various educational institutions. A variety of steps taken by different provinces and by district police officers on their own initiative were observed.
However, despite the excellent intentions behind these measures, the steps were neither synchronised nor did they follow a standard model. In fact, they constituted little more than a typically knee-jerk reaction to emergencies in Pakistan.
Fundamentally, what was required was an in-depth analysis with coordinated efforts for manageable actions. However, what we saw in various institutions were mock exercises by the police in dealing with terrorist attacks. Some of these exercises were conducted without any prior notice, thereby creating fear and alarm amongst the students. The students were also taken to firing ranges for practice shooting and training in handling firearms.
These exercises and training have had a seriously negative impact as they heightened the sense of insecurity and encouraged students and teachers to acquire weapons, which some started carrying with them even to their institutions.
Ensuring peace is the primary responsibility of the state, and not of educational institutions.
After Zarb-i-Azb was launched by the army, a blowback was feared and accordingly, the security of key buildings and points was upgraded to deny the militants an easy target. Thereafter, the militants changed their tactics and chose ‘soft’ targets, and thousands of educational institutions became their preferred choice for mayhem.
These were not only easy targets but also presented a chance for widespread media coverage, invoking visible evidence of the militants’ existence and capability to inflict pain on the entire country. In order to defend these criminal acts, the militants have also used social media extensively, justifying their actions by arguing that it is the educational institutions that produce government officers, politicians and members of the law-enforcement agencies, including the army, that are sustaining the ‘un-Islamic’ democratic order. Their rationale rests on the premise that attacking these institutions is actually tantamount to hacking away at the foundation of the structure that sustains it.
The reaction of the government to this challenge is seriously flawed as it is seen to encourage the proliferation of arms, which itself is a major contributing factor to lawlessness. The monopoly to use force for maintaining order must remain within the domain of the state, and no one should be allowed to carry weapons in public places for so-called security. The ministry of interior, now with a new competent secretary, should take the lead in a coordinated response to this threat.
The ministry should use the Nacta platform to disseminate workable plans based on educated professional input by all the law-enforcement agencies. Indeed, some of the districts have introduced feasible and effective solutions to counter this threat. Broadly, these are: security audit of every important building, physical obstacles for securing the area; and installation of security cameras and mobile units that can respond and deal with any emergency.
Islamabad police have come up with a comprehensive plan, and have implemented it effectively on the ground after professional risk assessment of individual institutions. These plans can be the models for similar plans in all urban centres of the country. Granted, it is impossible to provide security to every school in the country. Nevertheless, there is a pressing need to involve the public and project a counter-narrative against militancy and terrorism.
Encouraging and promoting a culture of vigilantism will only create chaotic situations, affecting peace and order in society. The answer lies in rooting out terrorism via proactive policing and strengthening the capacity of the police station that will invariably be the first responder in the rural areas and small towns. It is they who were the first to reach BKU and engage the terrorists and kill three of them.
Strengthening the police stations will not only secure educational institutions but will also be helpful in dealing with emerging threats. This is admittedly not the only solution. We need to deal with this threat in a holistic manner in which the police station can play a key role. A well-staffed and properly resourced unit at this level can be an invaluable asset in fighting terrorism.
Maintaining order and ensuring peace is the primary responsibility of the state, and all resources must be provided to deal with terrorist organisations that are threatening the very existence of this country. The present under-resourced and insufficient police forces are finding it increasingly difficult to deal with the rising tide of terrorism that is now reshaping itself and breaking into small cells, which operate in the urban centres and towns where militants can find refuge.
We have entered the most difficult phase of fighting terrorism where militants select soft targets such as schools, shopping plazas, restaurants/hotels and entertainment locations to further their nefarious agenda. As rightly pointed out recently in a briefing by the director general, Intelligence Bureau, it is going to be a long fight lasting at least 10 years. The concluding phase will ultimately see the police forces battling it out with the militants on the streets of Pakistan. Strengthening the police and giving them the required resources can help in restoring peace within the country as quickly as possible.
Even from the point of investment, a peaceful Pakistan means prosperity and development of the country. On the other hand, continued lawlessness will obstruct and impede national development. It is time to recognise the challenge in a broader perspective and commit the resources for law-enforcement structures so as to bring about a swift end to the imminent final phase of militancy and thereby set the country on the road to progress.
Handing guns to students and teachers and holding the educational institutions responsible for security is not the answer. It is the sole and undiluted responsibility of the state to counter this existential threat to state integrity and to confront it with all its might and resources. Arming the youth will only complicate an already knotty situation and exacerbate the prevailing lawlessness.
The writer is a former inspector general of the police, Sindh.
Published in Dawn, March 12th, 2016
WHEN a CEO declares that the business he heads is running perfectly, it’s time for shareholders to get nervous.
So how should we react when Chief Justice Anwar Zaheer Jamali declares that our “time-tested judicial system has no defects”? Is this the same judiciary that, time and again, has given legal cover to ambitious generals, and permitted the repeated removal of elected governments?
And is it the same judicial system that has some 1.7 million cases pending? Out of these, the Supreme Court has still to clear a backlog of over 20,000 (as of 2013). And yet, our apex court continues to focus on high-profile cases like directing the government to switch to Urdu immediately. Or trying to regulate the price of sugar, to disastrous effect.
CJ Jamali was in Karachi recently when he made this claim. In this newspaper’s report on the two public events he addressed, he was quoted making other statements as well that caused my eyebrows to rise.
For instance, he declared: “Pakistan, with so many natural resources, can be a prosperous country, but our belief is weak. This weak belief is taking us towards darkness.” Really? I thought it was our extremist views that were dragging us down, together with illiteracy, malnutrition, and an unchecked population explosion.
People can spend years in jail without their cases being heard.
However, I have no doubt that many people, especially those in the Council of Islamic Ideology, will agree with him when he said: “We are living in a society where people have no fear of God and the court’s orders are not complied with.”
While I suppose there is little the chief justice can do about the first part of his complaint, he does have ample powers to address the second issue. Contempt of court is a serious charge, and is frequently invoked by our judges, thereby minimising public criticism.
While defending the judiciary’s record, he mentioned the fact that cases remained pending because of lack of evidence and poor preparation by the prosecution. This is certainly a weak link in our legal system. But a key reason why witnesses are reluctant to come forward, even in cases where the fear associated with terrorism is not a factor, is the endless delays built into the process.
Court registrars fix the same date for dozens of cases to be heard by the same judge on a single date. Since it is not humanly possible to adjudicate so many cases in one day, witnesses and lawyers sit around, twiddling their thumbs. Years can pass before a case is decided, and meanwhile, those involved are called repeatedly without being called to record their evidence.
Many judges appear oblivious to the inconvenience they cause on every one of their working days. Lawyers are routinely given extensions on the most frivolous grounds, putting others to unnecessary expense and hassles. One would have thought that a ‘time-tested’ judicial system that has ‘no defects’ would have addressed this issue by now and reduced the mountain of pending cases.
Small wonder, then, that witnesses are reluctant to appear: once their names are on the roster, they can count on endless wasted days in court. And yet in 2001, the Asian Development Bank approved three loans totalling $350 million for an Access to Justice Project with the avowed intention to “reduce poverty and promote good governance through improvements in the rule of law”.
In its completion report of 2009, the ADP deemed the outcome of the project ‘satisfactory’. Apparently, the number of cases pending before the Supreme Court had been cut from 80,000 to 20,000 over the last decade as a result of the project. This is clearly a big improvement, but even 20,000 is too high a figure.
Part of the project were study tours to foreign countries by judges and registrars. I’m sure they put this exposure to good use. One thing they did not learn, however, was how to conduct hearings on successive days to conclude cases within a reasonable time frame. Normally, lawyers and their clients are informed of the dates well before, and no excuses for delays are accepted.
Presently, people accused of crimes can spend years in jail without their cases being heard as they are too poor to afford a lawyer. Civil cases involving property often take more than one generation to be resolved. One reason the people of Swat initially welcomed Taliban rule was that the militants promised swift justice to those sick and tired of the glacier-like speed of our legal system.
Perhaps I’m being unfair singling out the judiciary: after all, it is one of many institutions in decline. There was a time when judges refused invitations to social functions to avoid taking a favour. Now, some cling to official bulletproof cars after retirement, and set up political parties.
So clearly, there is room for improvement in the judiciary, whatever the chief justice thinks.
irfan.husain@gmail.com
Published in Dawn, March 12th, 2016
