After the attack: a victim of the Lahore attack remembers

After the attack: a victim of the Lahore attack remembers

by Sonya Rehman
A graduate from the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism who works as a freelance journalist for The Express Tribune and various publications in Lahore.
Saturday, 25 September 2010

Women mourn the loss of relatives after the attack on May 28 PHOTO: REUTERS

You read stories of violence and atrocities committed on faceless Pakistanis in your local newspapers on a daily basis. You absorb the news as detached consumers. Empathy and even hints of grief might stir your heart while reading a poignant story every once in a while, but try as you might, you will never be able to relate to the victims and those directly involved – because you were never there. It didn’t happen to you or, anyone you know. And for that, you’re almost relieved. Yet guiltily so.

But what would happen, if one day, you or your loved ones were victims of a cruel, intolerant act of violence? And what if, someone you knew and loved deeply was taken away from you, within a mere few agonising hours?

What then? How would you survive the horror?

Settled abroad with her husband, Irum received a phone call from her distraught sibling. It was the 28 day of May – this year – a Friday. Back home in Pakistan, it was 2:30pm. Two Ahmadi places of worship in Lahore were under siege by terrorists, and Irum’s father was in one of them – Darul Zikar, a place that Irum for many years, used to frequent with her family on Friday for prayers, and over Eid, as a young girl.

Prior to her sibling’s phone call, “Abu” had called Irum’s mother and told his wife that he was injured. He’d been shot in his left foot. After telling his wife to remain calm, Irum’s mother heard a series of gun shots. Then, the line went dead.

Abroad, Irum watched the television in horror – live visuals of the attack were being shown on the BBC. Three hours later, after the attack was over, Irum’s father could not be found. Family members searched hospitals, but to no avail.

Hours later at 10:00pm, Irum’s father had been located. His body was found at a local hospital. “I was half expecting it since there had been no news,” Irum said, “But when my brother-in-law called me, I fell to the floor and wept. God knows how many hours I wept for.”

Irum immediately left for Pakistan. The journey home was wretched.“For many nights which followed, I had haunting nightmares that I was in there too, and that a bullet had hit my leg,” she stated, “A few times I dreamt that I was in there and that I had covered my father and the bullet had hit my back instead of his foot, and that he was safe.”

In the days, weeks and months that have followed after the incident, Irum and her family, in their grief, gain strength from the fact that along with them, eighty-five other families suffer the loss of their loved ones. It is in this grief that they have sought some resilience and patience to endure their personal tragedy.

“After my father’s death,” Irum said, “My first reaction was that I didn’t want to live here anymore. Lahore has always been my favourite place in the world. But now it has become a place where my father was brutally killed. And no one came to help. Imagine how the mother of those two brothers killed in Sialkot must be feeling about her city and her fellow citizens. That’s how I feel. No one helped; they all gathered around their TV sets and watched the show – just like the mob in Sialkot.”

After speaking with an uncle, who was in Darul Zikr at the time of the attack, Irum informed me that there were five to six terrorists in the building. “They first burned the cars outside,” she said, “Then they came inside, opening fire on anyone in sight. One guy climbed up on the minaret and remained there till the end – he would shoot anyone he saw below in the courtyard.”

In the hall where her father was, two men broke in, spraying bullets. Then, one of them went to the hall on the first floor and started throwing hand-grenades from above, into the hall below. At one point, one of the attacker’s placed a grenade at the feet of an old man. “He was sitting on a chair,” Irum said, “My uncle watched from a distance as the grenade went off.”

“This entire incident has scarred us badly,” Irum stated. “Three Ahmadis have been killed since the attack on the May 28. One in Narowal, and two in Sindh. So you can imagine how unsafe we feel.”

After the tragedy, Irum and her family have begun to follow strict safety measures. “There are many Ahmadis in Lahore who are getting threatening phone calls and their homes have been marked with red ink as targets,” she said, “Basically every Ahmadi in Pakistan is practicing his/her faith under the dark shadow of terror, at the risk of their lives…but we’re holding on.”

URL: http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/1813/after-the-attack...e-attack-remembers/

Reaction: the response to the Ahmedi massacre

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Reaction: the response to the Ahmedi massacre

   by SADAF on 06 14th, 2010 |

“We are all under threat. They will kill us. They will kill us,” claimed Rubina Saigol, repeating the conversation with members of the Ahmedi community a few months ago. Saigol, an independent social researcher, said that the community members wanted to show her some case files on Ahmedis and talk about the threats publicly.

“I feel guilty and terrible that I didn’t write – partly because of fear.”

But before Saigol could gather up any courage to take any action – the threats had become a reality.

On May 28, militants attacked two Ahmedi houses of worship in Lahore, which resulted in the tragic death of more than 80 people and left more than a 100 injured. Within days, other militants attacked Lahore’s Jinnah Hospital where the injured were still recovering from the first attack.

The Ahmedi massacre has left everyone in shock and the Ahmedi community crippled with grief.

The Ahmedis have struggled for rights within India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Egypt, and Indonesia for many years.

Although the majority of the Pakistani population is Sunni – there is a growing percentage of people who are seriously questioning the Sharia laws and the constitution. The trend can be followed on local blogs and even the op-ed pages of local newspapers – the rhetoric challenges Sharia laws against the basic rights of a citizen.

Pakistan’s Sharia laws are based mainly on the Hanafi school of thought.

According to Sharia Law, an Ahmedi cannot be accepted as a Muslim or as part of an Islamic sect because one of the basic fundamentals of Islam is to accept Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) as the last prophet in Islam – in Quranic verses he is referred to as the “Final Seal” (al-azhab:40).

In several interviews with religious scholars, from Sunni and Shia schools of thought in Cairo and Q’um in Iran agreed that Ahmedis were not a Muslim sect. They went as far as calling them, “heretics” and “infidels.” As well as, if a non-Muslim shows and preaches under a Muslim façade, then he or she must be charged, proven guilty, and punished in court according to Sharia law, a crime which is punishable by death (wajib-ul-qatl).

But one of the scholars in Cairo, who requested to stay anonymous, was quick to add that if a non-believer is a citizen of an Islamic state then he or she becomes the zami (responsibility) of the state. Therefore, it is the state’s responsibility to protect them more than the Muslim citizen, out of fear for violence against them.

“They should be treated with the utmost respect, because we, as Muslims, need to set an example for them,” he said. “As a Muslim, your responsibility is to follow the basics of Islam and lead a good life – violence of any type against anyone is not an example of leading a good life.”

This one scholar, who remains anonymous out of fear for the repercussions he could face, is not alone.

As soon as the attack hit the news, blogs went up everywhere in an uproar; some immediately condemned the brutal attack, others wrote malicious comments about Ahmedis claiming them to be wajib-ul-qatl (deserving of death), and some tried to explain the causes of the attack through religious, political and social analyses.

On the blog pkpolitics there were many harsh comments and the owners of the blog removed those comments and posted a warning to respondents on abusive language.

One of the more kinder comments on pkpolitics was, “Brother, The Qadyani religion should not be even be called ‘Ahemdi religion’, for you know that the Last Prophet Muhammad is exclusively mentioned by the name ‘Ahmed’ both in the Holy Quran and in the Bible (sic).”

Another respondent scolded back, “I cant believe my eyes, Instead of completely condemning the attack and humiliating the attackers, some are debating on the words used and about Qadyani sect or religion whatever…. no wonder Pakistan is heading towards its doom day by day… shame on us (sic).”

Tazeen Javed, winner of Best Humor Blog category for Pakistan’s first Annual Blog Awards, blogs at A Reluctant Mind wrote, a social aspect of the attack holding everyone accountable, event the public, for the attack in “We all have blood on our hands.”

The Waking Life blog posted, “Is it all worth?” questioning Muslims who asked for tolerance in other parts of the world, wrote, “Time to put things in perspective…Facebook may have partaken in blasphemy but there’s plenty of it going on in our cities and society. How about cleaning our own house first? (sic)”

The popular and controversial blog, Café Pyala, which sometimes uses profanity, condemned the attack in the political analysis “Original Sin:” “Truly, if ever there was short-sightedness among Pakistan’s establishment (and there are plenty of examples of it) this was it…The nurturing of extremist thought during Zia ul Haq’s (mis)rule and its repercussions in the shape of today’s barbaric attacks (and earlier targeting of Shias, Hindus and Christians) are a logical continuation of the original sin. (sic)”

Most editorials and columnists for print media did not have to directly respond to profanity like some online media blogs, however they condemned the attack, pointing out the government’s blatant disregard for protecting minorities, and feeding a culture of bigotry.

The Dawn editorial “Culture of Intolerance” wrote, “Religious minorities in Pakistan have not only been shunted to the margins of society but also face outright persecution on a regular basis…the state, meanwhile, remains largely unmoved by the plight of minorities — and that isn’t surprising either for it is a party to this persecution.”

Columnists did not try to hide the humiliation the government as well as the public should feel over the attacks.

Columnist Kamran Shafi, who writes for Dawn, wrote in A sad place, indeed that he recalled a time when there was no religious distinction, just Pakistani citizens. He stated, “The Ahmedis might be considered non-Muslim by the state; surely they are still Pakistani?”

Shafi added that an important member of the Ahmedi community told him that the compensation that was offered to the victims of the attack would be kindly refused and asked to be transferred over to the people of Hunza-Gojal for the relief work.

These voices of different generations and backgrounds of growing tolerance are currently at a grass-roots level, but they can still be heard, even in some political circles.

On the day of the attack, Punjab’s Chief Minister Shahbaz Sharif held a press conference addressing the attack and the efforts of the police. Even though his offices had received reports on a threat to the Ahmedis several days prior to the attack.

While soon after the attacks, Interior Minister Rehman Malik was the only government official who personally went to visit the Ahmedi community to give condolences

Shahbaz Sharif has yet to visit the Ahmedi community since the attacks.

Although most recently, PML-N party leader Nawaz Sharif did condemn the attacks and named Ahmedis as “brothers” and “sisters.” Only for him to be threatened by religious leaders with an anti-Sharif campaign in the region.

If the public’s reaction has mobilised the government to react at all then it leads to the most important question: What is the next step?

Imam Shamsi Ali might have the answer.

“It is very difficult to accept the nature of the world we live in – part of this world is the freedom of expression. I oppose the idea (Ahmedi movement) but I cannot impose my ideas on anyone. I have no right to impose my ideas on anyone,” said Imam Ali.

Ali, who lived and studied Islamic Studies in Islamabad for seven years, is the leader for the 96th street mosque and runs the Islamic Cultural Center in New York.

“We need engagement. If we oppose those claims then we must have intellectual discourse. If we engage with Hindus, Christians, Jews, or Buddhists, then why cannot we talk to them?”

Ali, ultimately, feels that restricting the freedoms of a people is not the way of Islam, rather allowing people their freedom and showing tolerance is way for people to find the path to Islam.

Sadef A. Kully is a Reporter/Associate Producer for Dawn.com

©2010 DAWN Media Group. All rights reserved

URL: http://blog.dawn.com/2010/06/14/reaction-the-response-to-the-ahmedi-massacre/

Life after the attacks

Life after the attacks

   by GUEST on 06 14th, 2010 |

Life in the neighbourhood, where two Ahmedi places of worship in Lahore were attacked by terrorists on May 28, goes on but under a shadow of fear.

The presence of gun-toting policemen and other community members (including the Ahmedis) guarding the gates of the places of worship in Garhi Shahu and Model Town’s C Block, indicates the level of fear in the neighbourhood. The Jamaat-i-Ahmedi centre, Darul Zikr is located on one end of Garhi Shahu and although bunkers have been placed in front of the main entrance, people are still terrified to enter.

The observance of the death anniversary of Dr. Sarfaraz Naeemi on Saturday (June 12) was a grim reminder of the terrorist attacks the area has witnessed in the past one year. Dr. Nameei, the principal of Jamia Naeemia madressah was killed on June 12, 2009 in a suicide attack at the seminary’s office. A section of the road leading to the madressah was cordoned off as police and volunteers frisked each person before allowing them to enter to pay their respects.

“We are sitting on gunpowder,” said Shahzad, the supervisor of Faizan Filling Station located near the main entrance of Darul Zikr. Shahzad said the filling station remained safe during the attack because of pure luck. “But I shudder to think the extent of damage the fuel station could cause if it came directly under attack,” he said.

Sales have declined considerably as people avoid coming near the vicinity of Darul Zikr, mindful of another potential attack. “We have no choice because this is our source of livelihood.”

Malik Mehmood owns a rent-a-car business in a plaza across from Darul Zikr. Mehmood was witness to the attacks and claims how apprehensive everyone in the community has become. Usman lives in the street adjacent to where the attacks took place. According to him, people are now using alternate routes to avoid going near Darul Zikr. He said fear escalated particularly on Friday June 11, as the Ahmedi community gathered for prayers. “The street remained deserted almost the entire day,” he said.

Those living within the barricaded streets are subjected to scrutiny by armed guards at the street entrance. Faqir Mohammad, a chowkidar at a house adjacent to the place of worship, talked from behind a small window in the huge gate but before doing so, he carefully scrutinised this reporter. “We are safe here,” he said. “Our children do not go out.” he snapped. In the background, a few guards with guns could be seen.

An employee (wishing to remain anonymous} of an office set up in a house at the corner of the street said that the police allowed entries to the company vehicles whose registration numbers they knew. He wondered whether life was safe anywhere else in the city – Lahore has been subjected to at least four terrorist attacks (safe houses of security agencies were the earlier targets) in the past year.

The place of worship in Garhi Shahu is located next to huge parks (between blocks C and D). But the attacks have not deterred the children from playing; matches were being held on the two cricket grounds and preparations were underway for a football game in the third ground when this reporter visited the area.

“Yes, these are hard times. But life must go on, we cannot continue living in fear,” said the gardener of the football field.

Intikhab Hanif contributed for Dawn.com

©2010 DAWN Media Group. All rights reserved

URL: http://blog.dawn.com/2010/06/14/life-after-the-attacks/

Clarification — 86 Ahmadis died in the Lahore attacks

12th June 2010 PRESS RELEASE

Clarification — 86 Ahmadis died in
the Lahore attacks

Pakistan’s High Commissioner to the UK came of his own volition

In a Press Release issued by this office on 7 June 2010 it was stated that Pakistan’s High Commissioner to the UK, Mr Wajid Shamsul Hasan visited the Head of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Jamaat, Hadhrat Mirza Masroor Ahmad on 2nd June 2010 to offer condolences over the Lahore terrorist attacks.

Subsequently a report was published by a particular news organisation that Hadhrat Mirza Masroor Ahmad had ‘summoned Pakistani delegates to his office in London’. For clarification purposes it is noted that the High Commissioner came of his own volition and his visit was appreciated by His Holiness.

It is also clarified that in a Press Release issued by this office on 30 May 2010 it was stated that 94 Ahmadis were killed in the Lahore terrorist attacks. It later emerged that the number of deaths were fewer and so it is now hereby confirmed that 86 Ahmadis died in the Lahore attacks. Currently there are still a few who remain injured in hospital but thankfully none are considered critical at this time.

22 Deer Park Road, London, SW19 3TL UK

Tel/Fax: 020 8544 7613 Mob: 077954 90682

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Press Secretary AMJ International

We decide whether you’re Muslim or not

	Thursday June 10th 2010

We decide whether you’re Muslim or not

Jun 10th 2010, 8:26 by Banyan

ON MAY 28th, during Friday prayers, two squads of gunmen entered a pair of mosques belonging to the Ahmadis, a minority Islamic sect, in Pakistan’s eastern city of Lahore. Methodically, they emptied AK-47s into the assembled worshippers, lobbed grenades and exploded suicide vests. Their rampage has claimed 95 lives to date. Our Pakistan correspondent writes about the perpetrators, the Punjabi Taliban.

The deaths were shocking, but so was the response by officialdom, the media and the public. Yes, the attacks aroused a deal of concern in Pakistan. Lahore, after all, is the Punjabi capital and Pakistan’s cultural heart, a place of sophistication far removed from the country’s lawless frontiers, where extremism tends to have its breeding ground.

Yet the concern was palpably not for the Ahmadi victims. Politicians have shunned the bereaved. Punjab’s chief minister, Shahbaz Sharif, has not shown his face at either mosque, despite living down the road from them. Admittedly, an admirable trio of women in parliament pushed through a motion abhorring the attacks, but it only just squeaked through, and that because it was hitched to another motion condemning Israel’s deadly commando raid on the Gaza aid convoy.

On television, pundits have failed to call for solidarity with the beleagured Ahmadi community, who number 4m-odd in Pakistan. At street protests called in Lahore, Karachi and Islamabad, meagre numbers showed up. To understand better what a fellow journalist, Declan Walsh of the Guardian, calls a conspiracy of silence, I joined the Ahmadis for their Friday prayers exactly a week after the attacks, at the Darul Zikr mosque that bore the brunt of the violence.

I had been invited by Shahid Ata-ullah, an active Ahmadi elder with the pep and twinkling energy that comes with being a retired Pakistani military man. I had met his daughter earlier that week at dinner in Islamabad. She told me how sick with worry for her father she and her family had been, as the story of the attacks unfolded live on television. But a week later Mr Ata-ullah could chuckle about it. “When I came out and checked my phone, I had 103 voice messages! Could be something of a record, eh?”

At the mosque most evidence of the carnage had been cleaned up. There remained only a few pockmarks on pillars and a pile of mangled metal in the courtyard, the remains of a door by which an attacker had detonated his vest. By the look of things, nothing much might have happened.

Most striking was the community’s outward calm. Young Ahmadis frisked the worshippers, admittedly more thoroughly than usual, as they entered the mosque. A dozen men stood silent guard about the compound, armed with submachine guns against repeat attacks; every one of the guards had lost a father, brother or son. Mr Ata-ullah embraced one young man, the son of the late leader of Lahore’s Ahmadis, Munir Ahmad Sheikh, who had been shot as he led the prayers. Just a few months ago Mr Sheikh had sat down with one of my colleagues and explained how anti-Ahmadi thuggery was on the rise. Very quickly it was clear to me that this was a community not just used to persecution, but determined to continue their faith in the face of it.

The Ahmadiyya Muslim Community was founded by a 19th-century cleric, Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, who claimed divine revelation in restoring a corrupted Islam to a purer form. His revivalist teachings were an eclectic mix of Sufism and other Islamic and Christian elements. His claim to be a prophet sent by God, albeit not a “law-bearing” prophet, has enraged more orthodox Muslims. Ahmad was also convinced that Jesus survived his ordeal on the cross to die at a ripe old age–in Kashmir. This also challenges orthodox Islam, which holds that Jesus was raised alive to heaven.

Reasonable men ought to be able to differ. (I confess, so strike me God, that my early Roman Catholic catechism of Jesus’s crucifixion, burial and resurrection seems no less implausible than the Kashmiri version.) But from the start, of all Islam’s many sects, Ahmadis have been singled out for persecution.

Worse, from the 1970s the Pakistani state has officially sanctioned it. In response to anti-Ahmadi riots in 1974 parliament passed a constitutional amendment to define what it was to be Muslim. Ahmadis were pointedly excluded. Then in 1984 General Zia ul Haq, Pakistan’s Sunni dictator, amended the laws again. Henceforth Ahmadis were prohibited from professing their faith, and banned from “indirectly or directly posing as a Muslim”. In other words, even saying asalaam aleikum was out of bounds, though Pakistan has no other common greeting.

Ahmadis henceforth could not call the faithful to prayer. They could not display Koranic inscriptions. They could not build new mosques, repair old ones or even refer to their “mosques” as such–they were now “places of worship”, if you please. Indeed belief in the prophethood of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad itself was blasphemous, because it defiled the name of the Prophet Muhammad–a capital crime.

Ali Dayan Hasan of Human Rights Watch points out that while the government persecutes Ahmadi–some 400 Ahmadis have been charged in the past decade–it rarely brings cases against the perpetrators of anti-Ahmadi violence. In Lahore when I was there, banners flew from some of main thoroughfares proclaiming death to the “Qadianis”, a derogatory term for Ahmadis. The Punjab government of Mr Sharif refuses to pull them down, on the grounds that removing them might generate an “adverse reaction”.

Mr Ata-ullah and colleagues–gentle, cultured men–can laugh at what they call the “mischief of the law”, the multiple absurdities of their persecution. Mr Ata-ullah points to an engraving of the Kalima that the government has crudely boarded over. Anywhere else, covering up that profession of the Muslim faith would be a shocking act. The Ahmadis maintain thick volumes that keep a tally of the persecution. In one instance, the entire Ahmadi population of nearby Rabwah town, about 60,000 people, was booked for dressing up smartly and distributing sweets to children on the centenary of the community’s founding.

During the first Friday prayers after the massacre, there was no sign of anger at the perpetrators, nor of self-pity. But as the worshippers knelt with their heads to the ground, a low keening like the sound of a rushing wind ran through the mosque, and shoulders suddenly shook in grief. “In our prayers we always weep,” Mr Ata-ullah said afterwards. “The milk does not rise in the mother’s breast until the baby cries. Before Allah we must cry like babies if we want his blessing. We cry like a whole pot on the boil.”

© The Economist Newspaper Limited 2010.

URL: http://economist.com/blogs/banyan/2010/06/st...e=hptextfeature

Foreign-made arms used in attacks on Ahmedis

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Foreign-made arms used in attacks on Ahmedis

*	Investigators shifting focus to imported weapons’ suppliers active in provincial capital
By Shahnawaz Khan

LAHORE: Investigators probing the terrorist attacks on the worship places of the Ahmedis have discovered that all the weapons and ammunitions used in the attacks were foreign made, sources told Daily Times on Monday.

Following the discovery, the investigators have turned their focus on imported weapons’ suppliers in the provincial metropolis, sources said, adding that the investigators were collecting information on the suppliers of AK-47s, its ammunition and hand grenades.

“Besides that, the personnel are also collecting information and questioning a large number of people who are or have at any time been involved in the business of importing weapons,” the sources said, adding that reports of forensic experts confirmed that the terrorists had used Indian-made hand grenades and Russian-made AK-47s.

“Only a few dealers, around seven, in the provincial metropolis are in the business of selling Russian-made AK-47s and its ammunition,” the sources said.

However, the sources said that it was disclosed during investigations that some people are also involved in supplying Israeli-made weapons, adding that the trade of Israeli-made weapons was actively being conducted in Lahore since the last few years.

“Now the personnel are questioning few history sheeters, who were involved in the illegal supply of imported weapons from provincial metropolis to other parts of the country,” the sources added.

It is worth noting that it was disclosed in March that a few gangs in the provincial metropolis were partaking in the illegal trade of imported weapons. This was disclosed after the arrest of a weapons’ smuggler, who supplied imported weapons from Lahore to other cities. Law enforcers nabbed the head of an inter-provincial gang, Muhammad Naeem Khan, who was exporting foreign-made weapons from Lahore to other parts of the country. During investigations, the arrested Naeem confessed that some other weapons’ dealers in Lahore were also involved in the trade.

Following such links, the law enforcers who were investigating the attacks on the Ahmedis’ worship places shifted their focus to weapons’ dealers who were involved in the business of importing weapons, especially those that were Indian and Russian made.

According to the sources, investigators had also taken into account reports – compiled by the Special Branch a few months earlier – on the illegal weapons’ trade being carried out in the city. The reports had revealed that weapons’ dealers were using Lahore as a launching pad for the distribution of illegal weapons to other parts of the country and they are using small railway stations in the city’s outskirts, Lari Addahs and Truck Addahs for smuggling weapons.

URL: www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2010\06\08\story_8-6-2010_pg13_2

High Commissioner offers condolences to Head of Ahmadiyya Muslim Jama'at

7th June 2010 PRESS RELEASE

High Commissioner offers condolences to Head of Ahmadiyya Muslim Jama’at

Pakistan’s long term well being was honesty and justice

Pakistan’s High Commissioner to the UK, Mr Wajid Shamsul Hasan visited His Holiness, Hadhrat Mirza Masroor Ahmad at the Fazl Mosque in London on 2nd June 2010 to offer his condolences for the terrorist attacks that took place at two Ahmadi Mosques in Lahore on May 28.

During the forty minute meeting the prevailing political situation in Pakistan was discussed. His Holiness commented that all the attacks taking place in Pakistan were a direct result of mixing religion with politics. He expressed a hope that some leaders in Pakistan would stand up to the fanatical extremists who were the cause of so much pain and suffering in the country.

His Holiness also expressed the need for electoral reform so that all minorities had the right to vote freely and without discrimination. The Ahmadiyya Muslim Jamaat did not seek any special or favourable treatment, merely that its citizens were afforded their basic civil rights.

His Holiness said the key to Pakistan’s long term well being was honesty and justice. If those in power adopted these attributes then Pakistan could still emerge from its current anarchic state and move towards prosperity. His Holiness commented with regret that despite Pakistan having vast resources it was unable to look after the needs of its own people and so the gap between the rich and poor was ever increasing.

The meeting ended as His Holiness thanked the High Commissioner for taking the time to come and express his condolences and regret.

Mr Mohammed Nafees Zakaria the Consul General also attended the meeting.

22 Deer Park Road, London, SW19 3TL UK

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Pakistan’s Ahmadi killings and the conscience of a nation

Pakistan: Now or Never? Perspectives on Pakistan

Pakistan’s Ahmadi killings and the conscience of a nation

Jun 7, 2010 14:23 EDT

The fierce debate about the nature of Pakistani society triggered by the killing of more than 80 Ahmadis in two mosques in Lahore last month continues to run and run.

Much of the discussion is about why the government had failed to stop the religious right from preaching hatred against the Ahmadis, who are considered non-Muslims in Pakistan because they revere their 19th century founder Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, breaching – according to Pakistani law – a requirement that Muslims accept the finality of the Prophet Mohammad.

While authorities had been willing to shut down Facebook over a competition to draw the Prophet, it had not dared take action to remove banners preaching hatred against the Ahamdis, fearing a backlash from the religious right, Dawn newspaper complained in an editorial.

In a chronicle of deaths foretold, Professor C.M. Naim tracks the earlier killing of an Ahmadi, a retired teacher, in January in the town of Ferozewal. In an article in India’s Outlook magazine (h/t Chapati Mystery) he notes that not only did the police fail to take adequate action against the man’s killers, but also that the media paid very little attention, barring one persistent reporter. He also reproduces a picture of a huge billboard in Ferozewal preaching hatred against the Ahmadis.

“Judging from the image, the sign must have dominated the roundabout where it was set up to exhort the 97.21 percent of Ferozewala’s population against the unfortunate 0.25. It had stayed up for weeks. Thousands, including any number of men with power and authority, saw it but chose to do nothing. Finally a retired schoolteacher victimized by the sign and fearing worse approached the police for relief. A few days later, he ended up dead,” he writes.

He adds: “The following too went unnoticed:

On January 14, an Ahmadi mosque built in1982 near Rabwah was taken away from them by court orders and handed to anti-Ahmadis, “in order to pre-empt extreme law and order disturbances”.
On January 28, a court at Vehari, Punjab, sentenced three Ahmadis to imprisonment and fines on trumped up charges of preaching their religion to “simple Muslims”.
On February 3, an Ahmadi was similarly killed at Shehdadpur, Sindh.
On April 1, three Ahmadi traders were ambushed and killed near Faisalabad.

“Then, on May 28, 2010, in well-organized attacks on two Ahmadi mosques in Lahore, just a few miles away from Ferozewala, more than 90 Ahmadis were killed and scores wounded. We can only hope it was the worst such incident, for unfortunately it was not the last. On June 1, just three days later, the Daily Times reported another killing: an Ahmadi man was stabbed to death in his home and his son seriously wounded in Narowal, Punjab. The assailant, who reportedly threatened not to leave any Ahmadi alive, escaped.”

“Here’s a question,” writes Nadeem Paracha at Dawn. “How come whenever there’s a drone attack … or a case of perceived obscenity or blasphemy surfaces, street corners are at once filled with burqa-clad women and bearded men chanting slogans like ‘Death to infidels’? But none of these fine, sensitive Muslims can be seen protesting when there’s an attack on innocent civilians —Ahmadis or others — by the extremists?”

Former Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif, whose brother Shahbaz Sharif is chief minister of Punjab province where the killings took place, this weekend spoke in defence of the Ahmadis, calling them ”our brethren and an asset of the country”, according to The News. The Sharif brothers in the past have been accused of sympathising with the Islamists and were criticised after newspapers published pictures of the law minister in Punjab – who is loyal to the two – campaigning in a by-election in February with leaders of the outlawed sectarian Sipah e Sahaba.

The post-mortem on the Ahmadi mosque killings is now turning into a bigger discussion of whether secular liberals have any real influence on Pakistani society as it grows more religious and conservative.

“The problem is that there aren’t nearly enough of us for this to matter,” complains the blog Five Rupees. “There are a few scattered in the blogosphere and Twitterverse, and a couple of columnists for Dawn, and the Daily Times editorial board, but that’s it. There are, functionally speaking, no liberals in Pakistan. Oh, there’s plenty of scotch-drinking social liberals (think Salman Taseer). But liberalism and progressivism is not about drinking scotch or wearing jeans. Liberalism is about equality and freedom and personal choice and rationality and the privileging of the individual, and no one believes in those things.”

“We’ve been talking about the dangers of militancy for a long, long time — well before 9/11. That no one bothers listening is not an indictment of the “failed politics of Pakistani liberals”. It’s an indictment of everyone else. If mainstream Pakistan wants to ignore us, fine, that’s their prerogative. But don’t blame us when shit goes bad.”

And in Britain’s Guardian newspaper, Mustafa Qadri notes that more and more Pakistanis are turning to prayer given the failure of the state to provide a credible, secular alternative.

“Uncertainty is an inherent part of the human experience, but in Pakistan much of what a reader in Britain might take for granted is far from certain. How long will the electricity last today? Where will the next bomb go off? And, for most who do not inhabit my privileged world, will I be able to afford the right medication if I fall ill? The profound loss of control felt by long-term illness sufferers and their loved ones has become a countrywide phenomenon in Pakistan.

”The situation has exacerbated our cultural tendency to avow causation in favour of fate and the rewards of prayer. Whether looking for a job, waiting anxiously for exam results or willing the national cricket team to victory, prayer has become a kneejerk source of solace and comfort in difficult times. Holy men, or pirs, and local soothsayers have for generations made a career out of selling their prayers to those in need.

“And why not? Doing the right thing, like expecting to get a plum job without working family contacts, rarely seems to lead to results in our country. During my travels I have met several academically bright students from middle-class backgrounds who complain they cannot get into top university courses because wealthier classmates have paid to gain entrance. The experience for the millions below the middle class, who could never dream of a university education, is even more dire.”

At the very least, the killings of the Ahmadis has prompted a real discussion about the direction Pakistan is headed in. And even, some poetry. One day, looking back, it may well be seen as a turning point.

URL: http://blogs.reuters.com/pakistan/2010/06/07/pakist...cience-of-a-nation/

Dangerous Repurcussions of Relgious Extremism in the Punjab

June 7, 2010

Saad Khan
Freelance journalist and activist from Islamabad.
Posted: June 7, 2010 04:50 PM

Dangerous Repurcussions of Relgious Extremism in the Punjab

More bloodshed that claimed the lives of more than 95 innocent worshipers. It has become an unfortunate reality in Pakistan to see attacks on mosques and places of worship. In fact, it is not just the last nine years that Pakistan has seen a cataclysmic increase in religious violence. Interestingly, religious violence waned after 9/11 and the subsequent Afghan invasion. The Taliban started hitting innocent civilians without even thinking once about their caste, creed or religion. Shopping centers, hotels and bus stops became their primary targets. Although the number of attacks — and subsequently causalities — rose to an an unprecedented level, there was little hint of victimization of any single religious group, or minority.

This impartiality of the Taliban — and their associated groups — has seen a major dip in recent years. There could be many reasons for that but the joining of Punjab-based sectarian groups, who were wielding immense support from the ISI during the Kashmir Jihad, in the Taliban ranks has exacerbated this problem.

Sectarian violence is not a recently emerged issue in Pakistan. It is now an open fact that sectarian groups started slitting the throats of their rival factions during the dictatorial rule of General Zia ul Haq. Saudi Arabia and Iran also jumped into the fray with their covert — and open — support of the Sunni and Shiite extremist groups, respectively.

Violence between these two factions took a turn for the worse in the 1990s when they started attacking each others’ mosques. That was the first time when mosque committees started hiring guards for protection; government provided police guards in large places of worship.

Violence against the Ahmadis, however, was not that blatant up until now. They are, of course, subjected to grave discrimination and are treated with contempt but only 109 people had lost their lives (Link in Urdu) before this attack since the declaration of the Ahmadi sect as non-Muslim in 1974, by the secular Bhutto government.

Now the total Ahmadi casualties are in between 160 and 180 as many dead in the recent attacks were policemen and bystanders and thus not from the community. If compared with the casualties between the warring Sunni-Shiite factions in Pakistan, this figure is minuscule. However, if compared with the total population of Ahmadis in Pakistan — at 0.22% — this death toll is astounding.

Ahmadis have remained a peaceful minority in Pakistan and have not taken up arms. Chances of them turning to the guns are still low despite this carnage. The repercussions of this attack, however, can be great with a serious fallout. These attacks will encourage other militant groups to attack the Ahmadis. Thus a minority, which is already living on the fringes with threats of violence, and people who are regularly subjected to tyrannical blasphemy laws, will be hard pressed to retaliate.

Punjab remains the center of most religious attacks and it also serves as the operational nerve center of sectarian groups. Christians, who are living relatively peacefully in Karachi and Islamabad, are subjected to harassment and blatant discrimination in the Punjab. Violent attacks are not uncommon and church burnings are not unheard of.

One wonders why these attacks are mostly concentrated in the Punjab when all provinces have Muslim majority populations. The answer lies in the blatant Islamization carried out by extremist organizations. They have instilled this false notion among common Punjabis that they are the protectors of Islam and Pakistan. Interestingly, the same notion is present among the Punjabi middle classes that constitute the major chunk of Pakistan’s armed forces. A blatant hatred for India and a delusion about the grandeur of Islam and them being its protectors has muddied the political and religious landscape in the province, and in Pakistan.

The same mentality resulted in Punjabis condoning the brutal military operations in Balochistan and before that, in Karachi and Sindh. Pakistani army merely reflects this notion of silencing every voice that it deems as a threat to Pakistan, without analyzing the parallels between treason and political repression.

Nawaz Sharif, the ex prime minister and the most popular opposition leader, has not said anything concrete against the rising militancy. His power base is in the Punjab and his reluctance to tackle the militancy and sectarian issue raises serious doubts about his policies. His party is already in power in the province and has failed to do anything about this issue. They are in cahoots with the militants? Nobody knows but yes they are afraid to stir up this hornet’s nest.

There needs to be something done about this false notion of superiority and the acceptance of militant organizations. Nawaz Sharif, who many say is counting his days to become the next PM of Pakistan, needs to tackle this issue without hesitation. There is already enough hatred of Punjab in other provinces and in Balochistan, Punjabis are being attacked. These innocent Punjabis, who are working as teachers, doctors and nurses, are victimized because an average Baloch thinks that they are responsible for his destitution. In actuality, it is the political leadership of Punjab, and more importantly, the military leadership that is responsible.

It is high time that both issues should be dealt with accordingly. Military leadership needs to stop political maneuvering and military operations in Balochistan. There is also a need for equal representation of other ethnic groups in the officers’ cadre of the armed forces. Similarly, it should start operations against the militant organizations in the Punjab, which it is hesitant to do so.

As for the political leadership of the Punjab, they need to educate their supporters to embrace and not disgrace. Blasphemy laws need to be repealed and religious organizations need to be reined in if they really want to stop this violence. Otherwise, we all are sitting on a volcano that is about to explode.

URL: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/saad-khan/da...ons-o_b_602272.html

ANALYSIS - Pakistan’s mosques, media and intolerance

ANALYSIS - Pakistan’s mosques, media and intolerance

Sat Jun 5, 2010 4:01pm IST

Policemen run towards gunmen attacking an Ahmadi mosque in Lahore’s Garhi Shahu neighborhood May 28, 2010. - Credit: Reuters/Hussain Abid/Files

By Zeeshan Haider

(Reuters) — Pakistan has been fighting Islamist militants for years, but tough measures are needed to overturn a system breeding religious intolerance after the long failure of authorities to confront mullahs and hardline groups.

Analysts say the notion of religious mistrust is deeply entrenched in the predominatly Muslim country – even in the school system – and it is now up to leaders to mobilise public.

Last week’s massacre in the city of Lahore of more than 80 Ahmadis - a minority religious sect deemed non-Muslim and heretical by the constitution - has generated a heated debate in Pakistan, a U.S. ally, on how to tackle the issue.

In a sign of how hatred is propagated, The News newspaper said one of the two surviving gunmen caught by security forces said he had been persuaded that Ahmadis were “blaspheming” Islam.

Identified as Abdullah, he told investigators that his mentors had him believe that Ahmadis were drawing caricatures of Prophet Mohammad during a recent online contest and “so their bloodshed was a great service to Islam”, the newspaper said.

That raised alarm bells in a country combatting militancy.

“The nagging feeling that the government has already lost the battle against extremism has now acquired the force of conviction,” Zafar Hilaly, a former ambassador, wrote in The News last week.

After joining the U.S.-led war on terrorism after the September 11, 2001 attacks on the United States, Pakistan mounted a crackdown on militancy, outlawing several groups, arresting hundreds of suspects and warning hardline mullahs against delivering hate speeches and distributing hate literature.

ISLAMIC SEMINARIES

The government also vowed to reform tens of thousands of Islamic seminaries, known as madrassas, many of which are considered as breeding grounds for militancy.

Almost none of these measures, however, has been implemented.

Most outlawed groups have re-emerged under new names. Radical clerics still deliver fiery speeches against sects.

The U.S. Embassy acknowledged the difficulties, given the importance placed on Pakistan helping Washington battle al Qaeda and its extremist allies.

“We recognise this is a problem,” an embassy official said, adding that the embassy encouraged Pakistanis to take part in exchange programmes to see a multi-faith United States.

Analysts say Pakistani leaders dating back to the 1970s, however popular, took no action to counter radicals.

Hasan Askari Rizvi, a Lahore-based political and security analyst said governments have lacked the stomach to implement reforms, particularly in school curricula.

“In textbooks used in government schools, Pakistan is equated with Muslims…They teach Pakistan is a country only for Muslims. They don’t teach that non-Muslims also live here,” he said.

Journalist and analyst Ahmed Rashid described school programmes as “the most sensitive issue. But it is an issue in which any attempt to change the curriculum would have a whole host of fundamentalist groups oppose you.”

In 1974, Pakistan’s first popularly elected Prime Minister, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, bowed to Islamic groups and won approval of a constitutional amendment declaring Ahmadis as non-Muslims.

He also switched the weekly day off from Sunday to Friday.

But much of the upsurge in militancy occurred in the late 1970s and 1980s during the “Islamisation drive” by late military leader General Mohammad Zia-ul-Haq and Pakistan’s support for the U.S.-baked Afghan jihad or holy war against the Soviet invasion which saw a rapid growth of radical groups and madrasas.

Haq introduced several laws, such as the notorious blasphemy law, which are deemed discriminatory against non-Muslim minorities and fuelled tensions between different Muslim sects.

Subsequent governments did nothing to reverse the laws.

Military dictators, who ruled Pakistan for more than half of its existence, have also used militant groups to further policy objectives in Afghanistan and India and marginalise liberals.

“In earlier years, in order to pursue its foreign policy using the instrument of jihad, the state actively sought to create a religiously charged citizenry,” said Pervez Hoodbhoy, a physicist and analyst.

“But, now that the Pakistani military and political establishments have become a victim of extremism, they are foundering in confusion.”

Former President Pervez Musharraf, a military ruler, though he espoused a modern and liberal version of Islam, repeatedly failed to get the laws reviewed while in office from 1999-2008.

Former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto, a pro-West politician and a vocal opponent of the militants, was killed in December 2007 in a suicide attack blamed on militants linked to al Qaeda.

Civilian leaders are made even more cautious now in tackling radical groups by the tremendous fear of militants who have unleashed bomb and suicide attacks across the country.

“Religious intolerance is getting worse in Pakistan because the political leadership lacks the will to fight this,” said analyst Rizvi. “They don’t want to face the wrath of mullahs.”

(Additional reporting and editing by Chris Allbritton and by Ron Popeski)

URL: http://in.reuters.com/article/idINIndia-49068420100605

Hate and horror in Lahore

Columnist

Hate and horror in Lahore

   By Irfan Husain
   Saturday, 05 Jun, 2010

A Pakistani police officer bars a cyclist from entering a street near the Garhi Shahu mosque belongs to minority sect, which was targeted by gunmen last Friday killing nearly 100 worshippers and left many injured, in Lahore, Pakistan on Friday, June 4, 2010. Authorities beefed up security around the mosque to avert any terrorist attempt. — AP Photo

A day after the slaughter of nearly 100 Ahmadis in Lahore last week, Britain’s Channel 4 aired a programme on Iraq in its ‘Unreported World’ series.

The narrator described the plight of the Christians and other minorities in the north who were being regularly targeted by Sunni militias.

One ancient community that had been living there for the last 4,000 years was being especially persecuted. Out of the million Christians who lived in Iraq as equal citizens before the war began, half have now fled the country.

If such a concerted pogrom had been launched against Muslims anywhere in the world by non-Muslims, we would have been up in arms. Russia’s brutal treatment of Muslim Chechens and the Serbian ethnic cleansing of Muslim Bosnians have been widely condemned. So how is Pakistan’s treatment of its minorities any different?

I was sent a video clip of the reaction of a senior Ahmadi cleric to the Lahore massacre in which he was asked what his demand to the government was in the wake of the terrorist attacks. He replied: “We demand nothing and expect nothing but what is our due as citizens of Pakistan.” I was deeply moved by the stark simplicity of his answer.

That Ahmadis are at risk in the Islamic Republic is hardly a secret: they have been attacked, killed and harassed without any protection from the state for years. Surely the Punjab government should have posted policemen to protect their houses of prayer especially on Friday.

However, this is expecting too much from a government that did not take down hoardings on the streets of Lahore bearing the message “Friends of Ahmadis are enemies of Islam”. When its law minister Rana Sanaullah consorts openly with leaders of banned terrorist organisations, and its chief minister pleads with jihadi groups not to attack targets in Punjab — implying they are free to murder people in other provinces — little good can be expected of such a government.

Currently, instead of providing security for his beleaguered people, Chief Minister Shahbaz Sharif is engaging in a war of words over the fact that a large number of extremist terrorists are now active in Punjab. He objects to the term ‘Punjabi Taliban’ as though their ethnic origin is of any concern to the victims: the fact that they are terrorists who are killing mostly fellow Muslims in the name of Islam seems to mean little to him.

For several years now, the presence and proliferation of militant groups in southern Punjab has been common knowledge. The emergence of Ajmal Kasab, the terrorist found guilty of his role in the attacks on Mumbai in 2008, from the same area is not without significance.

Two days after the Lahore massacre, a man in Narowal entered a house, stabbed an Ahmadi to death and wounded another, shouting that he would kill every Ahmadi he could find before he escaped. The fact is that the police do not bother to investigate crimes against Ahmadis seriously, and to my knowledge, hardly anyone has been prosecuted for attacks against any minority community.

This callous attitude in officialdom can be expected in a country where popular TV anchors openly profess their anti-Ahmadi bias. One of them was allegedly caught on tape urging a terrorist to ‘interrogate’ a hostage because he was supposed to be ‘an agent of the Ahmadis’, although the newsman in question later denied it. The prisoner was found executed a few days later. Another famous anchor on a religious talk show encouraged a guest to declare Ahmadis ‘wajib-ul-qatal’, or deserving of murder. A few days later, two Ahmadis were duly killed. No action or public outcry followed either event.

At the heart of this indifference to the fate of our fellow citizens is a deeply rooted intolerance. Somehow, the fact that they follow beliefs other than the majority faith makes them unworthy of full and equal citizenship. Many mullahs fulminate regularly and openly against Ahmadis from the pulpit after Friday prayers. Many have called for their expulsion from the country. One has even demanded that they be given the choice between conversion or death.

And yet these very people hold forth incessantly about the injustice Muslims supposedly face in non-Muslim countries, denouncing perceived Islamophobia in the West. Were Muslims to face even a small fraction of the prejudice in non-Muslim countries that Pakistani minorities do every day of their lives, I cannot begin to imagine the hysteria on our streets, our mosques and — most of all — our TV channels.

So why is our sympathy and our humanity reserved only for those who follow the same beliefs we do? Surely there is no contradiction between faith and compassion for all people everywhere? I can understand an ignorant young jihadi, brainwashed by cynical, cruel clerics and terrorists into turning himself into a human bomb, and blowing up whoever they designate as a target. But how to explain the hard-hearted attitude of millions of Muslims who form the majority in Pakistan, many of them educated and sensible in other matters?

Contributing to a New York Times blog, Samra Habib writes after the Lahore massacre: “In 1991, I left Pakistan with my family and moved to Canada. We feared attacks by Muslim extremists and packed our bags in the middle of the night and managed to leave. Hiding our religion from non-Ahmadis had become part of our daily lives….

“I’ve spent most of my life here in Toronto and have become accustomed to being accepted by my friends and peers and sharing my thoughts and beliefs without fear of repercussion. I often forget that years ago, things were different for me and I, too, feared identifying myself as an Ahmadi. People I love in Pakistan still don’t have the luxury to celebrate their religious differences or even publicly greet friends in a traditional Arabic greeting….”

In the West, religious differences are accepted in a way that few Muslims are capable of doing. For us, faith is the defining element in our identity. Over the years, I have met many fine people who happened to be Ahmadis. Many of them have become friends, and I value these friendships. I suppose this makes me ‘an enemy of Islam’ in the eyes of those whose hoardings were not taken down by the Punjab government.

irfanhusain@gmail.com

©2010 DAWN Media Group. All rights reserved

URL: www.dawn.com/wps/wcm/connect/dawn-co...rror-in-lahore-560-sk-13

Investigators suspect police of helping Ahmedis’ attackers

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Investigators suspect police of helping Ahmedis’ attackers

* Terrorists carrying weapons bypass police to reach targets

By Shahnawaz Khan

LAHORE: Investigations into the Garhi Shahu and Model Town attacks have taken an important turn after information gathered during the interrogation of the arrested terrorist, Muaaz, and clues from various sources, Daily Times has learnt.

Sources said following the information, investigators now suspect police officials and officers deputed at both worship places of the Ahmedis and have started monitoring them as well. Investigators believe certain police officials are acting as facilitators to the terrorists, which is the reason they have been moving around with such ease during the recent attacks.

They said during interrogation, Muaaz revealed that their high command had directed them to work under one Rana, adding that Rana was the one who had led them during the Friday attacks.

Muaaz further revealed that Rana left him and his accomplices a few yards from the worship place in Model Town and told them he will return soon. He said Rana returned in less than 10 minutes and was carrying two sacks full of weapons on his motorcycle, which he handed over to them with the directions to start the operation.

The sources added that during investigation, it was also ascertained that a man named Hafeez had dropped the terrorists at the Garhi Shahu worship place and gave directions the same way, however, Hafeez returned with weapons after more than 20 minutes.

The sources question the role of police officials, considering that the terrorists commuted to and from the target places in such a less time and with such ease, bypassing several police pickets on their way.

The investigation also revealed that during the Jinnah Hospital attack, terrorists used only one entrance to barge in the ICU – one that opened in front of the hospital’s SDO’s office, the sources said. It was also revealed that as soon as the terrorists entered the ICU, they started firing indiscriminately, while a nurse switched off the lights and hid under a bed and informed the police.

Darkness misguided the terrorists, however, security guards accompanying a politician present in the hospital retaliated, due to which one of the terrorists received a bullet injury in his leg.

After the “action”, the terrorists fled from the same entrance they had entered from. Two of the four terrorists, including the injured one, left the hospital from the main gate, while the remaining jumped over the hospital’s iron bars and fled. The sources added that the investigators are also trying to ascertain who had washed the bloodstains of the injured terrorist from the road.

URL: www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2010\06\05\story_5-6-2010_pg13_1

Five steps to sanity

Columnist

Five steps to sanity

    By I.A. Rehman
    Thursday, 03 Jun, 2010

The moment the custodians of state power start treating some of the people as second-class citizens they push the latter into a high-risk alley. - Photo on file

The priority demands of sanity (dictionary meaning: reasonable and rational behaviour) are determined by the challenges a society faces. Today Pakistan’s supreme need is the adoption of a rational response to the menace of extremist elements operating, without due sanction, under the banner of belief.

The horrific dimensions of last Friday’s carnage in Lahore can be judged from the fact that even those who never take notice of atrocities against the Ahmadi community as well as those who never protest against the militants’ excesses could not help feeling uneasy at the foul happening. What does sanity now demand from government and society alike?

The more than 90 Ahmadis wantonly cut down in their prayer houses were citizens of Pakistan entitled to the protection of their right to life. If they must be treated as zimmies in a supposedly Islamic state they had an additional reason to be protected by the state and the people. The assault on their prayer houses was not wholly unexpected; the authorities had been aware of the activities of the professional Ahmadi-bashers and their threats for months.

The first step towards reasonable and rational behaviour is that the state must fulfil all three of its legal obligations, namely, a thorough investigation into the obvious failure to ensure security of the prayer houses, a relentless prosecution of the culprits, especially those that are routinely described by the police and the media as ‘masterminds’, and adoption of effective strategies for the protection of communities that are vulnerable because of their belief.

It is not possible to ignore the fact that the higher authorities directly answerable for the Lahore massacre, who normally rush to hospitals or private abodes of victims of relatively less horrible incidents, could not muster the courage to console the injured Ahmadis. Whether this was due to any sympathy for the militants’ creed or to a fear of attracting their hostility, the deviation from the routine points to the roots of discrimination and prejudice against the Ahmadis.

The extirpation of the deep-rooted bias against holders of beliefs different from that of the majority’s orthodoxy is the second essential step towards sanity. The moment the custodians of state power start treating some of the people as second-class citizens they push the latter into a high-risk alley.

The official explanation for not taking action against hate-preachers, some of whom are allowed privileges as rewards for spewing calls to murder and worse, is the fear of breach of peace. The same excuse is touted to explain failure to remove banners and posters that explicitly call for violence against the Ahmadis or other vulnerable groups.

A shopkeeper in a town near Lahore is free to present each of his customers an anti-Ahmadi poster. Tolerance of criminal mischief so as to avoid breach of peace has been formalised into a theory that is used to justify the Ahmadi-specific provisions of the penal code arbitrarily inserted into it by Gen Zia. The denial of Ahmadis’ right to hold meetings, especially their annual congregation, also is premised on this theory.

A critical review of this excuse has long been overdue. No such effort has been made because the victims, Ahmadis especially, are not considered entitled to enjoy their basic rights. But the consequences of overlooking mischief by some elements out of fear for their potential to cause disorder are now evident even to the purblind. Will no action be taken against gangsters who establish a state within the state because they might disrupt peace?

Most criminal acts fall within the definition of breach of peace. Must they go unchallenged? A state loses its title to wield authority if it blinks at criminal acts out of fear of repercussions of its intervention. The demolition of the theory of appeasing disrupters of peace is the third important step towards sanity.

The next step necessary for evolving reasonable and rational behaviour is elimination of discrimination on the basis of belief in practically all walks of life. This is going to be a long haul even after the state has acquired the will and the capacity required for the task, because this will involve not only a review of the 1974 amendment and the Zia ordinance XX but also the nature of the polity. What should receive immediate attention is the need to end the Ahmadis’ exclusion from political life.

When Gen Zia revived the apartheid-like scheme of communal voting the Ahmadis declined to register themselves as non-Muslims. Whatever one may think of that decision the result is that the Ahmadis have been out of the political mainstream. The most striking illustration of their disenfranchisement is the fact that they have no say in the affairs of their town, Rabwah, forcibly renamed Chenab Nagar, and the local body functions have been assumed by a minority of land-grabbers/officially patronised settlers occupying the fringes of the town.

The 2002 election law abolished separate electorates but under a totally illegal and anti-democratic decision the Ahmadis are still denied inclusion in joint/common electoral rolls. This discrimination must end as, among other things, it strengthens discrimination in services, in educational institutions, in housing even.

Finally, the fifth step to sanity demands a critical appraisal of the theoretical foundations of religious extremism. Tomes have been written on tolerance in general, and often perfunctory, terms. Many have devoted time and resources to talks on inter-faith harmony. But very little has been done to protect Islam against its manifestly wrong interpretation by the high priests of militancy. The advocates of the liberal traditions of Islam have been forced into exile or silenced otherwise. There is no intra-Islam discourse in Pakistan, not even to the extent it is going on in many parts of the world, including a few Muslim societies. The effort to rescue belief from the clutches of hate-preachers can be delayed only at the risk of grave peril to Pakistan.

Moving away, for the time being, from the on-again off-again and largely tepid plans to regulate the working of madressahs, a commission may be set up to probe the contents of the so-called religious publications, which are believed to account for three-fourths of all publications in Pakistan every year. The objective should be compilation of the material used to brainwash young boys and convince them of the urgency of not only killing Ahmadis, the Shias, and even Sunnis for sectarian or political differences, but also of treating attacks on hospitals as a holy mission on the route to paradise.

For a people who have allowed raw emotions to rule their minds for decades the trek back to sanity will be neither easy nor painless.

©2010 DAWN Media Group. All rights reserved

URL : www.dawn.com/wps/wcm/connect/dawn-content-libra...-steps-to-sanity-360-sk-04

The Ahmadiyyas: Pakistan’s silent sufferers

The Ahmadiyyas: Pakistan’s silent sufferers

Last updated on: June 02, 2010 12:04 IST

The Ahmadis who were killed in a terrorist attack on two Lahore mosques last week were innocent people and by not raising our voice for their rights, we as a nation are collectively guilty of their murder, writes Mehmal Sarfraz from Lahore, in the first of her despatches from across the border

The people of Pakistan witnessed two simultaneous terror attacks in Lahore on May 28, 2010. Thousands of worshippers had gathered for Friday prayers at two Ahmadi mosques, ‘Baitul Noor’ in Model Town and ‘Darul Zikr’ in Garhi Shahu, when they were attacked by the terrorists donning suicide vests, wielding Kalashnikovs and hand grenades. More than 90 people lost their lives while hundreds more were injured. The most horrendous aspect of these twin attacks was that they both targeted the Ahmadiyya community, a religious minority that has suffered in silence for far too long.

The Punjab wing of the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan claimed responsibility for the Friday attacks. In a text message sent to journalists, the terrorists warned that if the Ahmadis do not leave Pakistan, they should be ready to face death at the hands of the lovers of Prophet Mohammed (Peace Be Upon Him). It was a grim reminder of how the religious bigots have succeeded in promoting sectarianism and also pointed towards the vulnerability of the Ahmadiyya community in Pakistan.

A couple of months ago, a friend wrote something so strong on Twitter that it immediately caught my attention. She tweeted, ‘Three Ahmadis killed in Faisalabad on Thursday (April 1, 2010). They were ambushed by a car with multiple shooters and were shot at (presumably with semi-automatic or automatic weapons) more than 80 times. They died before reaching the hospital. Is this your Islamic Republic of Pakistan? I curse thee, I curse thee, I curse thee!‘ Chilling words indeed! And coming from someone who never loses her cool, it made me realise what a mockery we have made of the fundamental rights of citizens in this ‘land of the pure’.

The Ahmadis hold different views on the finality of prophethood from that of other Muslim sects. Muslims commonly believe that Prophet Mohammed (PBUH) is the last prophet of Islam while the Ahmadis believe that Prophet Mohammed (PBUH) was the last of the law-giving prophets in the tradition of Moses and Jesus. They believe that Mirza Ghulam Ahmad (1835-908) was an ‘ummati’ prophet (a subordinate prophet) and that he was the promised messiah and Imam Mahdi rolled into one. The Lahori Ahmadis believe that Mirza Ghulam Ahmad was just a religious reformer and not a prophet. Whatever the beliefs of the Ahmadis, the real issue lies with the clerics in Pakistan who have always had a problem with the Ahmadis for giving reverence to Mirza Ghulam Ahmad.

To understand the plight of the Ahmadis, we have to revisit the 1950s. Some Pakistani politicians and most religious parties took to the streets in 1953 leading to the anti-Ahmadi riots. They demanded that the Ahmadis be declared non-Muslims and the then foreign minister of Pakistan, Chaudhry Zafrullah Khan, be removed from office since he was an Ahmadi and the same should be done with other Ahmadis who held any key positions in the government. The government did not give in to these demands.

But all this changed in 1974 when Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, a secular and progressive man otherwise, declared the Ahmadiyya community non-Muslims. In an attempt to appease the Islamists, ZA Bhutto crucified secularism at the altar of political expediency by adding the Second Amendment to the Pakistani Constitution. Pakistan’s only Nobel Laureate, Dr Abdus Salam, an Ahmadi, left the country for London in protest.

Bhutto’s folly opened the door for the right-wingers to further persecute a peace-loving community. General Ziaul Haq, a military dictator who ruled Pakistan for 11 years and was one of the most bigoted rulers in the country’s history, promulgated Ordinance XX in 1984, which was specific to the Ahmadiyya community. This anti-Ahmadi ordinance prohibited them from ‘posing’ as Muslims, calling their places of worship ‘mosques’ or their call to prayer ‘azan’ like the Muslims do.

The Blasphemy Law together with this ordinance made it an actual curse for the Ahmadis to live in Pakistan. Many of them migrated elsewhere in the 1980s. Pakistan is the only Muslim country that has declared the Ahmadiyya community non-Muslims and where the identity card forms and passport forms make a clear distinction between Muslims and Ahmadis. Many Ahmadis have been harassed and killed in the name of Islam by fanatics over the years; they have also been targeted by the media. Famous anchorpersons and televangelists have given sermons against the Ahmadiyya community.

After the May 28 attacks, an Ahmadi leader, Mirza Khurshid Ahmad, said, “We are also the citizens of Pakistan. If the government wanted to protect us, it would have stopped the hateful propaganda that goes on against us every single day. Anti-Ahmadi posters and banners are published and put out in open view, conferences are held, statements issued that we should leave Pakistan, we are wajib-ul-qatl (worthy of death), we should either convert to Islam or we would be lined up and shot dead? This goes on right under the nose of the government. Incitement to violence is a punishable offence under the law of the land but nobody takes notice of these things.”

It was painful to see the terrorists laying siege to the two Ahmadi mosques for hours and spilling so much blood, but it was even more shameful to be politically correct and calling or writing ‘places of worship’ instead of mosques. It was appalling to see that no politician had the courage to call the slain Ahmadis ‘shaheed’ (martyrs) as is usually done after other terror attacks and that none of them went to the funerals of the dead either. Intolerance has overtaken our sensibilities. The Ahmadis who died on Friday were innocent people and by not raising our voice for their rights, we as a nation are collectively guilty of their murder. I hang my head in shame.

Mehmal Sarfraz is Op-Ed Editor, Daily Times, Lahore, and Joint General Secretary, South Asian Women in Media. She can be reached at mehmal.s@gmail.com

URL: http://news.rediff.com/column/2010/jun/02/column-...ans-silent-sufferers.htm

Still no counterterrorism strategy

	Wednesday, June 02, 2010, Jamadi-us-Sani 18 , 1431 A.H.
Still no counterterrorism strategy

Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Mosharraf Zaidi

One of my closest friends has never once, in more than fifteen years, ever responded to my salaam with a salaam. I have never held it against him. If he did, and a budding Mullah Chinioti heard him say it, he could be imprisoned for three years. I don’t blame my friend for never wanting to take the risk. Being risk-averse is not a choice made when you reach adulthood for Pakistani Ahmedis. It is a way of life. Every murdered Ahmedi in Pakistan helps reinforce the fear and the stoicism of this patriotic community of Pakistanis. And every murdered Ahmedi is a stain on Pakistan’s rich canvas of disgrace and guilt.

The press in Pakistan is awash in self-conscious hand-wringing about the massacre of Ahmedis by the TTP in Lahore. No such trepidation or nerves were on display at any previous point in this bloody and unending war between the TTP and the Pakistani people. Pakistanis that aspire for a “liberal” social and political space are incandescent with rage about the blasphemy law, about Zulfi Bhutto’s kneeling before the “mullahs” and about Zia’s escalation of state-sponsored, legal and constitutional hostility towards Ahmedis. Most Pakistanis, however, far and widely disconnected from what has come to represent “liberal” in Pakistan, would rather stay silent. There is surely a degree of shame and guilt for living in a country that has, even if it is by some degrees of separation, essentially participated in ghettoising an entire community. For most Pakistanis, however, there’s something more important than this shame. There is a fierce commitment to Islam.

This narrative of overarching religious devotion needs to be understood for what it is. Most Pakistanis are not particularly religious, but are very, very particularly devoted to the symbols of their religion. There is scarcely a symbol more central to Pakistani Muslims than the life, times and person of the Holy Prophet Muhammad, may Allah’s peace and blessings be upon him. The flat and comprehensive finality of the Holy Prophet is non-negotiable.

Of course, that commitment does not, under any moral, legal or political framework, justify the way that Ahmedis are treated in Pakistan. In fact, the real outrage may be that Pakistani Muslims allow themselves to live in a country where religious fanatics posing as vigilantes see it fit to distribute their twisted version of justice on the lives of the innocent minorities of Pakistan.

The religious issue of the status of the Ahmedi faith in Pakistan is further complicated because it is also a legal issue. If Pakistanis, whether they call themselves liberal or not, are interested in beating the fanatics, and making Pakistan a safe place to live for all Pakistanis, then remembering certain facts is central to the project of fixing Pakistan.

The religious identity of Pakistan’s Constitution was the product of a democratic discourse. It is easy to demonise Zia, particularly given his government’s slavish pandering to a tiny sliver of mullahs. But frankly, reality also requires us to remember that Bhutto’s own rhetoric and most of the mainstream discourse preceding Bhutto (notwithstanding Ayub’s colonised vision for Pakistan) was not uncomfortable with Muslim identity. To the contrary, it had a healthy mix of political Muslimness, without any of the political Islamism that infected Pakistan under Zia.

That middle-of-the-road approach to Islam in the public space has not turned out very well. Arguably, it has bequeathed to Pakistan the TTP and its various components, and affiliates, including the increasingly brazen Lashkar-e-Jhangvi. But the emergence of Pakistani soil as the birthing place of so many terrorists is not solely a product of the Pakistani political conversation, and Islam’s place in it. It is also a product of the Pakistani military elite’s insatiable appetite for shiny new weapons.

The success or failure of the PPP- and Muslim League-dominated mainstream politics of Pakistan – which has always absorbed “Muslimness” into the discourse – can be argued about. There is no argument, however, about one fact. Since well before Bhutto, one bankable reality in Pakistani politics is that so-called Pakistani liberalism will always score high with the west and fail spectacularly at home. The righteous indignation of Pakistan’s “progressive” and “liberal” elite – whenever Pakistani extremism or fanaticism rears its ugly head – has very little bearing on what takes place in this country. Of the most important issues to any sincerely progressive person in Pakistan – such as how women are treated, how the powerful are unaccountable and how minorities are treated – it is the Pakistani fanatic that has won every single argument since 1947.

As children of Jinnah’s Pakistan, perhaps aspiring liberals and progressives need to start to ask questions about the nature of our citizenship, the nature of our engagement, and the nature of our politics within the broader canvas of realpolitik in Pakistan. The most important paint on this canvas is the green-coloured traditional South Asian Muslim sentiment of the overwhelming majority of Pakistanis. Pakistan’s central conversation is not a Sufi rock concert. It is a race for the next rupee, whilst carefully stepping over a cocktail of Barelvi, Deobandi, Wahhabbi, post-modern, Salafi and Shiite veritable “landmines”. Pakistani Muslim orthopraxis is diverse and contested – but it is central to defining the lowest common denominator in Pakistan’s issue-politics.

Asking questions about how to improve the rate of success of liberal causes in Pakistan requires us to take a break from mullah-bashing, and introspect. It is a political minefield if you’re a reformer interested in stripping Pakistan’s Constitution of its Muslim identity. It is an orchard ripe with fruit if you’re interested in exploiting existing religious stereotypes and biases in Pakistani society. Where can we reasonably expect every politician to eventually land every single time?

A transformed political landscape is a long-term project. Without substantially more grounded and active participation of Pakistani liberals in mainstream politics, it has no chance of fruition. In the meantime, Pakistanis, like the ones at Ghari Shahu and Model Town, are dying. I’m not interested in the guilty pleasures of trying to figure out if they were Muslim or not. I’m interested in catching the murderous criminals that did this, and making sure they don’t do it again. We can have all the uncomfortable religious conversations we like once we’re all secure from these bombs and bullets.

Let’s not forget that Benazir Bhutto is among the thirty thousand victims of terrorism in Pakistan since 2001. Since the TTP came together in December 2007, they have killed indiscriminately at mosques, at schools, at universities and in markets. Every law – both written and unwritten – in Pakistan is used to protect its VIPs, and yet the TTP got to Shaheed Mohtarma, and killed her.

We are too self-conscious as a nation. Too beholden to mullahs on the one hand, and too dislocated from our own culture and context on the other. The terrorist attacks in Lahore were more of what has become a standard part of life in Pakistan since 2007. The TTP may be ceding ground to the Pakistani Army and the friendly skies that US drones explore on a daily basis. But they are winning the war. The longer we remain stuck in a useless ideological conversation, the more ground the TTP will gain.

The most important tribute we can pay to those that were slaughtered by the TTP in Lahore is to formulate and execute a transparent and comprehensive counter-terrorism strategy. Anything less would be a continuation of the failed politics of Pakistani liberals, and the unchallenged run of success enjoyed by Pakistani fanatics. Of course, many of us have been advocating a CT strategy now for the better part of three years. I am not hopeful.

In the meantime, I will continue to be ashamed every time I meet my Ahmedi friends. Whatever religious disagreements we may have, Pakistani Muslims should have been protectors of the weak, not spectators to their torment. The TTP’s bloodlust does not abdicate us from that responsibility.

The writer advises governments, donors and NGOs on public policy. www.mosharrafzaidi.com

URL: www.thenews.com.pk/daily_detail.asp?id=242541