That first SMS I received on Friday morning could well have been a good morning wish. But it brought bad news. The message from friend Kamran Arif just said that “our council member” Malik Jrar had been shot dead in an apparent sectarian attack. So this was about someone I had known quite well, as a fellow member of the council of the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan.
The target killing took place in Peshawar when Jrar, a respected advocate and committed human rights defender, was going to drop his children to school. Targeted killings are more frequent in Karachi where I live and, at times, names that are familiar make headlines. However, it does make a difference when a tragedy of this nature has personal dimensions.
As HRCP noted in a statement, Jrar’s murder “demonstrates that the raging epidemic of murderous mayhem remains completely unchallenged”. It added: It called upon the government “for the umpteenth time” to take measures to guarantee safety of human rights defenders and indeed all citizens and hoped that effective steps will be taken to bring Jrar’s murderers to justice.
All we can do in the wake of such atrocities, it seems, is to express our shock and grief and call upon the authorities to protect the lives of the citizens of this country and bring the murderers to justice. This is what they are not doing, as this week’s hearings in Karachi of Supreme Court’s Karachi law and order suo motu implementation case.
Indeed, the situation in Karachi is spinning almost out of control and comments made by the four-member bench during the three-day proceedings underline our helplessness in the face of growing violence and disorder. The headline in this newspaper on Thursday said: “How can fair polls be held when people live in fear, asks SC”.
In fact, going through the entire coverage of the proceedings would leave you totally depressed and pessimistic about the future of not just Karachi but of the country itself. The timing of these revelations is also crucial. Already, doubts are being cast on whether elections can be held on time. A number of conspiracy theories are in circulation. On Friday, Dr Tahirul Qadri’s petition that seeks to reconstitute the Election Commission was accepted for hearing by the Supreme Court.
Pakistan will surely be in a deep crisis if the elections are delayed for whatever reason. Another fear is that even if the elections are held on time, their credibility could be challenged by some political elements, leading to public disorder. Many other issues, such as the choice of the caretaker prime minister, have become contentious. There is much trouble on the horizon.
Perhaps the outlook would greatly darken when you look at it in Karachi’s mirror. That is what I am constrained to do because I live in Karachi and carry my emotional baggage on my fleeting visits to places like Islamabad and Lahore.
For instance, I made an overnight visit to Lahore this week and even though the Lahore experience is invariably refreshing for a Karachiite, I found no respite from the scare that the overall political situation is causing.
It so happened that my PIA flight to Lahore on Wednesday evening was delayed by four hours. In the midst of that long wait, I met writer Musharraf Ali Farooqi who was on the same flight. Musharraf, of course, is one of our most prominent writers of fiction in English and his recent novel ‘Between Clay and Dust’ has been shortlisted for the 2012 Man Asian Literary Prize. He had burst upon the international literary scene with his translation of Dastan-e-Amir Hamza into English in 2007 as ‘The Adventures of Amir Hamza’.
In any case, he began his career as a very young journalist when this newspaper was launched in 1991 and I was his editor in Karachi. He was in Canada for some years before returning to Karachi. What was taking him to Lahore?, I asked him. His answer was a surprise for me. He said that he had shifted to Lahore. That is where he lives now. Karachi for him was no longer liveable. I got the impression that he had sensed the unravelling of the place. He had just stopped over in Karachi on his return from the Jaipur and Kolkata Literature Festivals.
In the same vein, I have another encounter to report. There was this very inspiring gathering at the Arts Council in Karachi on Friday evening. Essentially, it was an exhibition of art works in response to the Baldia fire incident that in September last year had killed about 260 workers, including many women. There was an inaugural ceremony in which speeches were made and popular singer Jawad Ahmed sang his song on a great tragedy that had somehow failed to arouse the conscience of this nation.
On Friday, though, the unusually large gathering of Karachi’s progressive social activists and members of trade unions was rather reassuring in the present circumstances. There, I ran into Kaiser Bengali, the respected economist. When I quizzed him about the political situation, he merely shrugged his shoulders and said that he had just returned from an extended visit to Afghanistan where he is engaged in field research.
When I wondered if it was safe for him to travel in Afghanistan, he said: “Anywhere in Afghanistan is safer than Karachi”. And then he explained that he had covered a large part of the country and been to towns and villages. They don’t snatch cell phones at gunpoint in Kabul.
Let me return to the observations made by the Supreme Court judges at the Karachi registry. Justice Khilji Arif Hussain went to the extent of saying that “we see no hope of peace in the city”. The four-judge bench also noted that the people of Karachi might as well stay at home because 22,000 fugitives and proclaimed offenders roam its streets.
It is instructive that killings and chaos in Karachi continued while the Supreme Court hearings were in progress. A strike was held on Friday against the frequent killings of clerics, and traders and transporters joined the strike as well because the law-enforcement forces are unable to protect the lives and property of the citizens. On Friday, the Supreme Court was informed that about 400 police officials were found involved in criminal activities and were facing trials but they were still on duty.
All this seems hard to believe. But this is what it is like in Karachi, in spite of the fact that the battle for democracy as well as the very survival of the country will have to be fought and won in this divided and brutalised place.
The writer is a staff member. Email: ghazi_salahuddin@hotmail.com
Ghazi Salahuddin, "In Karachi’s mirror," The News. 2013-02-10.Keywords: