Pakistan’s political vandals

“I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life as that night, when I was pushed into a police vehicle and taken to a police lock-up as if I was a criminal,” said 40-year-old Fahim Shaukat, which isn’t his real name.

On the night of 14 July, Shaukat, along with a dozen other men from the Ahmadiyya Muslim community, had gathered inside their place of worship in Kala Gujran, a town in the Jhelum district in the Punjab province of Pakistan, to stop desecration of their building after fears it may be attacked.

“Earlier that day, our community head met with the police with the latter demanding we demolish minarets [towers used for calls to prayer] or the police would be forced to do it themselves by midnight,” Shaukat told Index. “Our amir [religious head] refused and reasoned with him saying there was nothing in the law that barred us from having minarets.”

He recalled what happened that night: “Around 11:30 pm, we heard the doorbell, and at the same time the CCTV placed outside the door was destroyed. I opened the door, and was asked to step outside.”

Other people were hauled out, and Shaukat said there were around 20-25 policemen. He described how some of them went inside to look around, while a bearded man in a light blue shalwar kameez (a Pakistani outfit) took a ladder from one of the police vans and started hammering down the minaret.

While this was happening, men from the Ahmadiyya community were shoved into a police van and taken to the station and interrogated, before being released.

“This was an entirely illegal action, facilitated by the police themselves, and we suspect it was done at the behest of the Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan,” Amir Mahmood, the community’s spokesperson, told Index from the community’s headquarters in the Punjab city of Rabwah.

The Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP), founded by Khadim Hussain Rizvi in August 2015, is one of the largest political parties in Pakistan today. In the 2018 general elections it secured a huge vote bank, especially in Punjab. It proclaims itself to be the defender of the Prophet Muhammad’s honour and demands severe punishment for those who do not believe in the Prophet’s sanctity and finality. At one time outlawed following violent protests, the party is now back in force.

“Desecration of our places of worship is a violation of the Constitution of Pakistan,” Mahmood said, referring to a 2014 judgment which was set out to promote religious tolerance and protect minorities, by the former chief justice of Pakistan, Justice Tassadduq Hussain Jillani. “Justice Jillani had ordered that a special police force be formed for the protection of that. It is ironic that instead of protecting and safeguarding them, the police are themselves carrying out these tasks specially in the province of Punjab.”

Deputy superintendent of police, Abdul Jabbar, denied that the police involvement was vandalism, saying: “That’s a complete lie!” He also denied that people from the community were manhandled or detained for hours in the police lock-up.

“Our job is to protect the people and their property irrespective of their religious beliefs. We cannot be party to such illegal activity as demolition of the minarets,” he said.

According to Shaukat, the deputy superintendent in fact “led the attack” that night.

“If that’s a lie, why did the station house officer at Kala Gujran police station return our licensed gun that the police had taken away during their raid?” Shaukat said.

“According to my information, it was the Ahmadis [people from the Ahmadiyya community] who pulled down the minaret,” said Asim Ashfaq Rizvi, former district president of the TLP.

Rizvi has announced, and confirmed to Index, that if the local administration does not ensure that minarets in all the three places of worship around the city have been demolished, “we will come forward and remove them ourselves on Muharram 10,” which is one of the holiest dates for Muslims and which falls on 29 July. “It’s my own proclamation and not that of the TLP leadership, and I will follow it through,” he said.

“Pamphlets have been distributed and leaflets plastered across Jhelum talking about Rizvi’s Muharram 10 plan,” confirmed Shaukat.

Rizvi said: “For the last two years, we have been pointing out this anti-state and anti-constitutional activity to the government and the police.”

He said the Pakistan Penal Code 298, also known as the blasphemy law, provided him the licence to carry out such acts against people who allegedly insult Islam. Under Section 298-C of the code, Ahmadis cannot claim to be Muslims or propagate their faith.

In 1984, military dictator General Mohammad Zia-ul-Haq used a presidential ordinance to ban members of the community from the usage of epithets, descriptions and titles reserved for certain holy persons.

In the vandalism of minarets, Shaukat believes the TLP was “playing the religion card” to win over the sentiments of the general population, huge swathes of which look down on the Ahmadiyya community. This is all the more poignant now, with Pakistan’s 2023 general election on the horizon and the TLP looking for votes.

Rashid Rehman: “Courage in the face of threats and harassment”

Early last month, human rights lawyer Rashid Rehman from Multan in Punjab province, was threatened that he would not be present at the next hearing as he would not be alive. Those who threatened him — the complainant’s counsel, Zulfiqar Sindhu, and two others made their statements in front of the judge during the hearing of a blasphemy case — meant every word. The judge looked on stone-faced.

Sitting in his office with another lawyer and a client on 7 May, two men stormed into Rehman’s office, at around 8:30 pm, and opened fire. While he was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital, the other two, who sustained serious bullet wounds, survived.

Rehman was the regional coordinator for the independent Human Rights Commission of Pakistan and was representing alleged blasphemer Junaid Hafeez, a lecturer at Multan’s Bahauddin Zakariya University. The latter had been accused by some students of making derogatory remarks against Prophet Muhammad in March last year.

The HRCP has, to date, lost six of its members. Five of them — Naeem Sabir (2011), Siddique Eido (2011), Zarteef Afridi (2011), Ahmed Jan Baloch (2013) and Rashid Rehman (2014) — were killed in the line of duty. The sixth victim, Malik Jarrar Hussain’s (2013) was victim of a sectarian killing. No one linked to the murders has been arrested.

Fear of backlash from the extremists is palpable and that is why, said  Zohra Yusuf, chairperson of the HRCP, even in this particular case: “The accused could not find a lawyer for a year.”

“Rashid was threatened on his first appearance in court, held inside Multan District Prison, in front of the judge,” said Yusuf, speaking to Index. Due to security concerns the hearing was being held inside the prison, she said.

On returning from the hearing, Rehman had complained to the police and the district bar association in writing and had also copied it to all civil society organisations. He had also told The Express Tribune that he had been threatened by five people over 48 hours and warned to drop the case.

In a 10 April statement, the HRCP had brought the issue to the attention of the authorities. “But nothing was done,” said Yusuf.

“This is an extraordinary event in the sense that the murderers are well identified,” A.H. Nayyar, a well known educator and a peace activist based in Islamabad. While those who pulled the actual trigger may not be identifiable, he told Index, those who threatened Rehman were very clearly named by the deceased.

Clearly infuriated, Nayyar said that if the police and the government fail to provide justice then the matter should be taken to the civilized world. “We should move parliaments of other countries to take notice of it, to lodge protests with our government and even threaten to sever relations with Pakistan.”

Dawn reported that a pamphlet stating that Rashid Rahman met his fate because he tried to save a blasphemer was dished out by unidentified people in the chambers of lawyers in Multan. “We warn all the lawyers to think before defending such matters,” the pamphlet read.

“It’s been difficult for lawyers and judges to deal with blasphemy cases in the past as well but I am certain that they will be even more hesitant now to take up such cases and who can blame them?” pointed out Angelika Pathak, former South Asia researcher at Amnesty International. Saddened by Rehman’s death whom she had known for some time, she found him to be someone who “showed great courage in the face of threats and harassment”.

“We all know, not only the alleged perpetrators but anyone perceived to side with them, be they lawyers, their own families and friends, even members of their wider communities, have all been subjected to abuse — threats of violence, violence, even unlawful killing — by extremist elements while the state has turned a blind eye to it,” she told Index over an email exchange.

Pathak found impunity for false accusers of blasphemy and for perpetrators of violence as the single most significant factor contributing to the persistence to the abuse of the blasphemy laws of Pakistan.

As a first step to end the abuse of these laws, she said the parliament should consider some safeguards, including making the deliberately false accusation of blasphemy a criminal offence.

But more importantly, Pathak pointed out that Pakistan should consider abolishing these laws as they are “too vaguely formulated, lack a clear reference to criminal intent and are in conflict with Pakistan’s international commitments undertaken when ratifying the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR).”

Ratifying the ICCPR, Pathak pointed out, meant the obligation to bring “domestic law into conformity with the international legal standards”, something she emphasised remained “conspicuously missing” in Pakistan, not only with regard to the blasphemy laws but a whole range of other laws as well.

This article was published on May 9, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org

Pakistani journalists plea for protection

(Image: Rajput Yasir/Demotix)

Journalists in Hyderabad staged a protest after the killing of three media workers in Karachi (Image: Rajput Yasir/Demotix)

The Taliban crossed a red-line last week, when they killed three media workers in Karachi. An incensed Pakistani media blamed the prevalent culture of impunity for the violence against the press, and have urged the state to appoint special public prosecutors to investigate murders of journalists. But why should journalists be demanding this privilege?

Umar Cheema, special correspondent with The News, whose writings have landed him in trouble several times already, has a ready answer: “We are in the frontline on behalf of the citizens; we are paying with our lives.”

And Cheema, who in 2011 was awarded the Committee to Protect Journalists’ International Press Freedom Award for his courageous reporting, is not exaggerating. More than 50 journalists have been killed in the line of duty in Pakistan in the last ten years. According to the Pakistan Press Foundation (PPF), 40 were murdered because of their work.

The demand for a special public prosecutor has resonated with many journalists, including Mazhar Abbas, former secretary general of the Pakistan Federal Union of Journalists. “If the government appoints special public prosecutors at the provincial as well as at the federal level, it will help speed up both the trials and convictions,” said Abbas. At present no more than four or five cases out of the scores of journalists killed, have made it to court, he said.

There are several reasons for that, he explained: “Our courts are a big deterrent as it takes forever to seek justice. At times, the family of the deceased journalist is reluctant to pursue the case, sometimes the police discourages the family; and even the media organisation the journalist belongs to is not interested in taking it up.”

Journalists are also looking to media organisations to come up with a set of safety  protocols. “The only weapons we can fight with are pens and mikes provided we know how to use them,” said Abbas.

And, added Cheema, regular demonstrations by journalists do not seem effective anymore. “Our protests should lead to some action, we have to become part of the solution.” To his mind, the journalist organisations should stop dithering and hold a dialogue with media owners to make certain demands on their behalf.

Abbas said reviving the joint action committee, comprising of journalists and media organisations who can “find ways of dealing with violence against media” would be a big first step.

Giving examples, he said: “The last strike against violence was observed by such a committee in 1989, when three journalists in Sindh were killed in one day. The second strong protest from a committee was witnessed in 1995, when the then Pakistan People’s Party government banned six evening newspapers in Karachi. The ban was lifted within a few days!”

But requests for media owners to commit to something where resources may be needed, will probably fall on deaf ears, says Ashraf Khan, a Karachi-based senior journalist: “We all know that while precious equipment at electronic media houses is insured as a top priority, the human machinery is not considered worthy enough to be insured!”

Cheema also cites lack of professionalism as something that may land many journalists into trouble. Hasan Abdullah, a journalist researching Islamist groups and who frequents both Federally Administered Tribal Areas and Afghanistan pointed out there were no “guarantees to life in a war zone”.

To keep from getting caught in the Taliban’s crosshairs, Abdullah said journalists “should be very careful with their language”.

“They should avoid using politically-loaded terms that would give their position away. It is best to stick with language that does not carry positive or negative connotations.”

Further, he said: “Every sane human carries an ideology or a set of ideologies, but when reporting, one must be seen to be impartial. Journalists should ensure that no matter how much they disagree with or loathe a view, they must give everyone the right to express their version. For TV journalists, it may be a good idea if their body language and tone is not too expressive of their internal feelings,” he cautioned.

 This article was published on 23 January 2014 at indexoncensorship.org

In Pakistan discussing religion is a punishable offense for Ahmadis

In May 2010, terrorists attacked two mosques belonging to the Ahmadi community. Ninety-four people were killes and more than 120 were injured. (Photo: Aown Ali / Demotix)

In May 2010, terrorists attacked two mosques belonging to the Ahmadi community. Ninety-four people were killes and more than 120 were injured. (Photo: Aown Ali / Demotix)

“It was staged and pre-planned,” said Shahid Attaullah, referring to the arrest of a homeopath Dr Masood Ahmed on charges of blasphemy.

Narrating the details of the events preceding the arrest of a 72-year old doctor, who is also a British national,  Attaullah, the spokesperson for the Ahmaddiya Jamaat, said: “Two men posing as patients, came to his clinic in the Anarkali, an older part of Lahore, on November 25. After a few minutes they started discussing religion. Supposedly the doctor responded to their questions about Islam and then they left. Within minutes, a mob gathered around the clinic. A complaint was lodged and the police arrested him for preaching. He is in lock-up and his bail denied.”

According to news reports, the doctor was arrested for ‘posing’ as a Muslim.

Ahmadis consider themselves Muslims but in 1974, the government promulgated an ordinance, declaring them non-Muslims. According to Pakistan’s constitution, this community cannot call themselves Muslims; are banned from referring to their places of worship as mosques and cannot recite the Kalima, which is the first tenet of Islam, whereby a Muslim proclaims that he is a Muslim. The Ahmadis are banned from even singing hymns in praise of Prophet Muhammad. Of late there have been incidents where they have been harassed for keeping Muslim names.

Attaullah sees this to be a long-drawn case now that a first information report (FIR) has been lodged. “It is now gone into the court.” Last year 20 trumped up charges were registered, while this year as many as 33 people have so far been booked including the doctor.

According to Attaullah while there are some judges who are themselves prejudiced towards the community, those who are not are pressured by religious hardliners.

“There was a case where the judge of the Lahore High Court refused to take decision and sent the application back to the lower court. This is quite unprecedented. Two months ago in another case, after the judge granted bail to the accused, a group of clerics went to the judge’s chamber. I don’t know what transpired inside, but a little later, the judge changed the written order stating ‘no bail’”.

This does not surprise Zohra Yusuf, the chairperson of the independent Human Rights Commission of Pakistan. “I can understand the judge’s predicament because a lot of power has been ceded to the clerics and most people buckle under their threats,” she said.

Since 1984, 299 people belonging to the community have been charged under the blasphemy law, 764 booked for displaying the Kalima; 38 for the Azan (calling to prayer); 447 ‘posing’ as Muslims; 93 for offering prayers, 770 for preaching and hundreds others for many such offences.

Little wonder then that Attaullah says: “There is always the sword of Damocles hanging over all of us and the mental anguish is permanent”.

“Many of our youngsters are migrating to other countries,” he said. “They do not see a future in Pakistan and the elderly members don’t want to leave the country they think is theirs,” he pointed out the social quandary they find themselves in.

The religious apartheid has become overt with the oppressors having declared an all out war. “In the last few years, I find the persecution has escalated and the attacks on us are pre-meditated and carried out in a planned manner,” said Attaullah. He further added: “And they always pick on the weaker elements of our community.”

In addition, said Yusuf: “The persecution of Ahmadis knows no bounds and, regrettably, there’s not enough condemnation from society or the media.”

According to Attaullah, the space for Ahmadis in Pakistan is getting narrower by the day.

Talking about the doctor’s arrest, he said: “The complainants had filmed the unsuspecting man reading aloud the translation of a verse from the Quran through the hidden camera.”

A Lahore-based journalist, requesting his name be withheld, (as he has received threats by an Islamic group for covering faith-based issues) has seen the video clip: “It was clear the doctor was trapped into saying what he said, but he was not preaching,” he said.

Further, said the journalist: “Ahmadis don’t talk about religion publicly and never to strangers; these people must be known to him and from the video it seemed they were asking him questions and he was responding to them.”

Attaullah, said they regularly circulate directives telling their people not to participate in any religious discussions with anyone and if the opposite sides wants to pull them in, they should simply disclose they are Ahmadis and the law does not allow them to speak on Islam.

This article was posted on 23 Dec 2013 at indexoncensorship.org

This article was updated to correct an error. Ahmadis were declared non-Muslims in 1974, not 1984 as previously stated.