How Pakistan Sees the United States

First published Council on Foreign Relations website

The following was written by Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi, the founder of Pakistan Youth Alliance and a member of Khudi Pakistan. He tweets at @ali_abbas_zaidi.

It was November 1979. Anti-American outrage filled the streets of Pakistan. Several U.S. facilities were attacked across the country. A mob in Islamabad nearly burned the U.S. embassy to the ground. The chant “Kill the American infidels!” echoed in the air in response to the siege of Mecca’s grand mosque, Islam’s holiest site.

Pakistani crowds angered by the unprecedented events unfolding in Mecca concluded that such a plot could only be orchestrated by Americans. It turned out they were wrong. The homegrown radical group in Saudi Arabia that led the bloody siege had no link with the United States.

While the U.S.-Pakistani relationship has experienced many changes in the decades since, miscalculations of ground realities on both sides and anti-American sentiment have remained.

The majority of people in Pakistan admire the way Americans live—almost every Pakistani family has a member settled in the United States—but a glaring majority hates the impact of U.S. policies in Pakistan. The United States is considered by many to be the “great Satan.” Every U.S. political move in Pakistan is interpreted as an effort to destabilize Pakistan or to fight a war against Islam. Aggressive rhetoric on the Pakistani side—at times reflecting an unrealistic worldview and at times responding justifiably to belligerent U.S. action—molds mass perceptions.

A few months ago, I was in Kot Addu in the south of Pakistan’s Punjab province filming recent flood damage in the area with a British filmmaker named Oliver. He was confronted by a local who, after pushing Oliver, scanned the sky and shouted “drone, drone” as if Oliver’s tripod and camera were the equipment that maneuvers drones. Bear in mind that south Punjab has never had a drone attack and is very far from the area where drone attacks take place.

For me, this incident highlights an important fact for U.S.-Pakistani relations. The general public in Pakistan cannot be expected to understand the complicated nature of the U.S.-Pakistan relationship. When something goes wrong in Pakistan, the public relies on their interpretation of the events at face value. In the case of drone attacks, for example, the United States must consider this effect and act more responsibly.

Many of my American friends ask the same question: “Why do they hate us?” By way of explanation, the discourse rampant in Pakistani streets is closest to what most Muslim-majority communities feel. The invasion of Iraq, decades-long support for oppressive governments, bias in the Israeli-Palestinian dispute, the killing of thousands of innocent Muslims, recurring stories of torture and abuse of prisoners—all have combined to generate suspicion of the United States within Pakistan. When Pakistanis find evidence that the United States applies its values of democracy and human rights selectively depending on its interests (the Raymond Davis episode and “collateral damage” from drone attacks being prime examples), for many, suspicion turns to hate.

Finally, solidifying this ill will is the lack of understanding between the two countries on a human level. People-to-people, civil society-based contact and interaction is scarce, and misconceptions are aided by a U.S. media that does not propagate alternative opinions from within U.S. society. The result is the image of the United States as a monolithic society.

Disagreement is a trait of democratic society and should be considered a strength rather than a weakness. If on-the-ground dissent in the United States can be understood in Pakistan, and communication between the United States and regions that “hate” the United States is given importance in the international media, the United States’ monolithic, negative image will become less rampant in Pakistan and other Muslim-majority communities. This will not only benefit the image of the United States worldwide, but will give “conspiracy theorists” reason to look within before pointing the finger at the United States.

Why Activism (Still) Matters | Ceasefire Magazine

First published: Ceasefire magazine UK

The past decade has seen millions marching against the Iraq invasion and other wars, millions more helping and being helped as natural and man-made disasters struck from Japan to America. Just in 2011 alone – much to the amazement of political and social scientists – we witnessed the street revolutions of the Arab Spring. A revolutionary wave of demonstrations not only toppled decades-old dictatorships but have prompted a healthy ‘culture of debate’, across the world.

These protests shared a number of common techniques of civil resistance, through sustained campaigns involving strikes, demonstrations, marches and rallies, as well as the use of social media to organise, communicate, and raise awareness in the face of state attempts at repression and media/internet censorship.

The Arab Spring confirmed the significance of the power a “common” man or woman can possess. Dictionaries and historical narratives have undermined the usage of the word ‘activism’. It is now usually understood to be intentional efforts to bring about social, political, economic, religious or environmental change. Activities that are usually understood to be ‘activist’ in nature include protests, walks and demonstrations. This is only partially correct.

Activism is not necessarily about ‘change’ for change’s sake, activism also exists to maintain and protect the valuable freedoms and rights secured through the sacrifices and resistance of those before us. Activism is not only rebellious protests challenging authority but a broad set of activities to meet clear ends and objectives, to instigate a debate in society, and therefore to continuously meet evolving circumstances.

As such, it might not necessarily involve any ‘protesting’ at all. Let us remember that not everything that calls itself “activist” is inherently positive in its nature. Many “activist” groups and organisations across the world work diligently towards outcomes that others would hardly describe as ‘positive’.

Possibly due to the confusion that surrounds the word, historians have not been able to produce a ‘history of activism’. And yet, shouldn’t we start seeing our own common history of mankind as precisely that? A ‘history of activism’? After all, human history and progress have been built, in one way or other, upon various types of “activism,” all the way back to when the first human being stepped on earth.

Every one of us is affected by the happenings around us. From bad drainage across the street to extremist organisations propagating intolerance. From domestic state policies that need to be opposed to Imperial oppression that should be resisted – everyone is affected. Some feel the need to ‘do something’ and try to challenge, inspire and lead whilst others, convinced that one voice, one action, or one person are helpless against the enormity of the task, resign themselves to do nothing instead. The former are called ‘activists’, the latter I call ‘slacktivists’.

With advances in telecommunications and internet technology, we are more exposed to information than ever before. With a sudden burst of social networking sites, we are more powerful than ever before. The ease with which digital activism can be the driving force behind tangible output is awe-inspiring. Blogging is already the new face of media: we all can be journalists and activists. The only ingredient that distinguishes an activist from a slacktivist is the will and the desire to do it.

Of course, it’s not all about marches and campaigns. Volunteer work for a social cause is an equally valid way to alleviate poverty, fight corruption or to ensure equal rights of education and health facilities to all.

Complaining about contemporary state of affairs is easy; trying to work towards how you envision your society, country or world ought to be is the real test. As we move further and faster towards a more globalised world, with technology that enables us to matter beyond our mere physical borders, we as global citizens need to realise that we matter. And activism, in whatever form, is the spark that leads to the streets, to the ‘change’ that we, the global masses, aspire towards.

Some believe an activist is born and cannot be ‘made’. I don’t: every man and woman is born an activist. Whether we admit it or not, it is carved in our common history and, whether we like or not, it will define the future of our humanity.

Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi is featured in ‘Activate’ a new series on Al Jazeera English following activists

Pakistan, Islam & radicalisation [published: Huffington Post]

First published and cross-posted from Huffington Post

I was in Kasur, a small town near Lahore, Pakistan, where the celebrated mystic poet Bulleh Shah is buried. Thousands gathered for the 254th anniversary of his death. Slogans chanted on that occasion would be branded ‘blasphemous’ by extremist organizations in Pakistan.

Neither Hindu nor Muslim,
Sacrificing pride, let us sit together.
Neither Sunni nor Shia,
Let us walk the road of peace.

Bulleh Shah penned these verses challenging religious extremism and orthodoxy that plagued Muslim society hundreds of years ago. He was exiled from his home town and, history has it, he was denied a burial in Muslim cemetery. His advice has clearly gone unheeded as my country is still yet to find peace. Not even the founder of Pakistan, Muhammad Ali Jinnah has been spared being labelled ‘the great infidel’.

Incidentally, the same ilk of religio-political parties who now manipulate public discourse were at the forefront of using religious narrative for political point scoring before Pakistan came into being.

4 January 2011 is a day I cannot forget. Salmaan Taseer, the Governor of Pakistan’s biggest province Punjab, was gunned down by his bodyguard. He was killed for supporting a Christian woman accused of insulting the Prophet Muhammad. He was shot twenty six times.

For the entire week after the killing, I was scared. I don’t remember being in that state of mind since Benazir Bhutto was assassinated. It’s not a very heartening sight to see fellow ‘educated’ countrymen glorifying a murderer and justifying his actions based on ignorant rhetoric. Scores of fan pages popped up on Facebook, many of my friends changed their profile pictures to one of the killer, Mumtaz Qadri, exalting a murderer as hero.

Very few turned out to pay homage to the slain governor in days to come, as ‘liberals’ arranged vigils in his remembrance. Yet thousands poured on to the streets to defend Mumtaz Qadri, his assassin. The media, which has been a primary tool in fanning conspiracy theories in public, had again played a pivotal role in enticing ‘religious’ emotions on this issue.

The killer of Salman Taseer had confessed proudly. The brave judge who sentenced him to death has gone into hiding and will not be re-appearing anytime soon.

7 March 2011. The start of another week of gloom and, if I’m honest, I was ashamed to be a Pakistani. We had arranged a protest to condemn the killing of Shahbaz Bhatti, the Federal Minister for Minorities who was brutally assassinated on 2 March. He was an outspoken critic of Pakistan’s blasphemy laws and the only Christian in the cabinet. Only a few youngsters turned up.

When it comes to numbers, we can gather thousands but the ’cause’ has to be against India, Israel or America. Not many will show up if the demonstration is against radical organisations, or asking for introspection within.

Many who rallied for Gaza in early 2009 were not seen in protests condemning Taliban atrocities in Swat at the same time. Many who burnt down shops in anger at the Danish cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad never stood up for Parachinar, a small town near the border of Afghanistan where thousands have been killed in sectarian violence between Sunni’s and Shia’s.

9 October 2011. I was stuck on the Islamabad Highway, the main road that connects Islamabad with Rawalpindi as it was blocked by flash mobs protesting for the release of Mumtaz Qadri.

Two decades and 40,000 deaths later which includes top politicians, generals and clerics – not many things have changed when it comes to checking radicalism within Islam.

Many attacks on places of worship of minority sects within Islam, recurring violent brawls between followers of different schools of thought, reaction to the murder of Salman Taseer and Shahbaz Bhatti, recent acts of violence in Baluchistan and the tale of Parachinar are chapters in recent history which expose the extent of radicalisation in Pakistani society.

Soon, we as citizens of a country founded because a minority felt discriminated against and followers of the great religion of Islam, need to face up to the challenge of the radical minded and their extremist ideology.

This is a war of ideologies and is inevitably a war that must be fought with opinions and ideas; it must encourage discourse and exchange of reason. It is a war that must form the basic pillar of a new and improved national paradigm for Pakistan

We as a society cannot ignore an emerging threat from radicalism within our ranks, because if it gets too late, there might be no ‘music’ left to face.

Follow Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi on Twitter: www.twitter.com/Ali_Abbas_Zaidi

Pakistan’s youth fight forces of history

First published: Al Jazeera English [for series of docu-films on youth activism in 08 countries, called 'activate'. Ours airs on 25th oct, at 1030 GMT 

I grew up in a country enshrouded in uncertainty, being taught a distorted version of history as part of a school curriculum that incited religious hatred. It was a country that endorsed almost anything, social or political, in the name of religion; where state organs coloured geo-strategic shifts in ‘holy’ flavour; where the intelligentsia fathered militant organisations; where the right-leaning media propagated conspiracy theories; and where public sentiment sanctioned militancy by calling for intervention beyond borders.

How can I forget the banners hanging in the main marketplaces of Pakistan calling out for ‘Jihad’ against whomsoever they deemed an ’infidel’? I grew up listening to the clerics for whom every other sect within Islam was heretical, to news of attacks on shrines, mosques and religious festivals, to dictators who extended their stay in office for personal gain – with corruption plaguing every walk of life, mob mentality justifying acts of violence and the judiciary serving selective justice.

I grew up in a country battling wars, natural disasters, corruption, religious and social intolerance, disease, poverty, illiteracy and ideological perplexity. But it was also a very resilient environment. I cannot name any other country that has faced such multi-faceted problems with such intensity. If we were not struggling to infest democratic norms and a culture of peace and mutual coexistence, we were battling the biggest humanitarian crisis in all of modern history.

But there would not be opportunity if it were not for crisis. The future is what we make of the present; and the past offers us an opportunity to learn from our errors. Realising the individual’s importance in the collective life of a neighbourhood, city, province, country and, consequently, as a global citizen is the defining moment that instigates ‘change’.

Change is within, however concealed by incompetence and naivety. Trying to ‘be the change’ turned me and some of my friends into activists who battled dictatorship and media blackouts, who stood up against extremism amid threats and insecurities, who were chased around and harassed by the very agencies that should have protected us, who rallied for peace when the masses were victims of war-mongering, who have reached out to more than 70,000 displaced families with material relief. Much of the time, these amazing youngsters have been pro-active rather than re-active in their activism.

Unprecedented acknowledgements by the United Nations, the government of Pakistan or by international media outlets are no milestones when compared to the fact that what started as a Facebook group in 2007 as the result of a few exuberant young minds now gives a voice to thousands.

More than 100 million aged under 24, a youth bulge unparalleled in the world, cannot be made a liability. This is the future of Pakistan and the future of a region in which one-fifth of humanity dwells. Turning crisis into opportunity will mean transforming 65 per cent of the population of Pakistan into pro-active citizens agreeing to disagree peacefully; making them realise their potential as individuals and then as a collective force to be reckoned with.

Some believe that Pakistan’s prospects have dimmed over the past few years and that there is no hope. But we believe that only stormy weather makes good sailors and only the most vigorous of rubs polishes the best of gems.

Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi can be found on twitter and facebook and is the founder and chair of the Pakistan Youth Alliance.

Every man dies, not every man really lives

Crossposted from my piece on Dawn on Yaser Abbas and mentions on Newsline Magazine’s blog reg PNS Mehran attack.

The night of Sunday, May 22, 2011, will be remembered as one of the most haunting nights in the history of Pakistan. While Pakistan was still reeling from the killing of Osama bin Laden in Abbottabad on May 2, the 16-hour operation against terrorists at PNS Mehran served to add salt to the wounds of the nation.

At 10:40 pm I received a message from some course mates while having dinner together that a “P3-C Orion has been hit”. I tweeted this instantly, seeking confirmation from the media as I did not know whether the aircraft was hit in the air or on ground. This was the first and last message I would hear from my friends, who were now engaged in the operation.

At 12:54 am my social media feed read: My junior Lt Yaser and guards in his Squad are in the operation theater, the doctors are not confirming their condition, but saying that they have been shot – O negative blood is needed at PNS Rahat.

Just a few minutes later, we learnt that our brave junior had breathed his last. A couple of my close friends had also been shot.

I remember playing cricket with Yaser; he was an amazing athlete and one of the brightest students at the College of Aeronautical Engineering, Risalpur.

His course mate Abdullah talks about his personality:

“I haven’t known a more genuine person. The academy really puts you to test and only a fortunate few come out victorious. Lt. Syed Yaser Abbas represented the best of his kind and always managed to pass with flying colors. As per tradition, we called him ‘Naval Yaser’ (since he was part of the Pakistan Navy). Yaser was very close to me. Any person who has been at a boot-camp, will realise that when we call our course mates, our brothers, we mean it in the truest sense.

Ever since the PNS attack, I have endlessly recalled and relived the memorable times I have spent with Yaser – teasing seniors, late night gatherings, group study sessions, sitting on the roof-top chatting until late night, watching T20 world cup matches, mast qalandar sessions and the MOHA, CS gaming sessions – the list is endless. Yaser would also be early to bed the night before an exam, while we crammed but somehow he still managed to get better grades than us. He was also the one in the group who always had a bag of eatables on hand.

Yaser’s most distinctive feature was perhaps his loud, hearty laugh that could be heard long before anyone saw him coming. He always insisted he was an introvert back home, but we never really got to see that side of him. He was always joking and fooling around.

Spontaneity was his forte. Yaser executed unplanned, last-minute trips with ease. He never shied away from helping anyone who asked for his help. Even if you asked him at 3 am to come over, there he would be with his car.

All of us had been, in the last four months, planning a reunion. Just a day before the PNS Mehran attack, Yaser told me, he probably wouldn’t be able to make it for the reunion because his leaves had been postponed. He asked that we carry on without him, to which I replied that we could wait until he was granted leave. Who would have known then, that he would be the cause of our much-awaited reunion. May Allah bless his soul.”

Yaser was chatting with his friend, Umair before resuming duty that night. His last Facebook status update reads: finding it hard to bear the unbearable, need guts!

And much like the proverbial teaching in the military: no guts, no glory – his bravery, courage and sacrifice will be remembered for a long time to come.

Written on the walls of College of Aeronautical Engineering are the words ‘The Few, The Proud’. Yaser is most certainly among the few who have made his college and everyone who knew him proud by being nominated for the Nishan-e-Haider.

With the media coverage Yaser has received, he may be known to many as the face of the PNS Mehran attack, but there are tens of thousands of young men like him who have died fighting for their country.

Terrorist sympathisers are quick to point out that it is the US who has brought their war into Pakistan among other defenses for these heinous attacks of terrorism. In the face of haunting attacks such as that on PNS Mehran, even the thought of a terrorist sympathiser among us is appalling.

I believe nothing can be more tragic for a nation, which is still confused about who their real heroes are.

Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi is an aeronautical engineer, a poet and a social activist who is the founding force & chairperson of the Pakistan Youth Alliance. He can be found on Twitter and Facebook.

– interview on Channel News Asia

Countering radical ideology

First published in The Friday Times

The war of ideology is inevitably a war that must be fought with opinions and ideas; it must encourage discourse and transactions of reason; it must develop spaces for freedom of speech and of expression as the objective of ultimate victory. And it is a war that must form the basic pillar of a new and improved national security paradigm for Pakistan

The process of radicalisation in Pakistan took hold over three decades. After political organisations began using religion as an implement of social power (by defining Muslims, and therefore kafirs and murtads, in the 1973 constitution), radicalism became a force potent enough to engulf the apparatus of the modern state, render it redundant, and eliminate its writ from within its very territorial jurisdiction. In essence, Islam was no longer just a faith that bound a worshipper to the Almighty, it became a structural institution that could manifest in social, political, economic, and even military forms. Abuse of religion for political ends sowed the seeds of hatred that continue to bear fruit after decades.

This radicalisation took hold of Pakistan’s north-western tribal and Pakhtun-populated areas during the “Afghan jihad”, and slowly spread into the marginalised and poverty stricken areas of Pakistan – both urban and rural. Massive inflow of funding for religious institutions (mosques and madrassas) created an education system that espoused both a radical discourse and the eventual induction into a radical or extremist organisation, where the madrassa graduate found a career in becoming an ‘activist’ or ‘office-bearer’. However, these psycho-social processes that affect both individuals and communities are not irreversible; de-radicalisation is a rehabilitative process that moderates radical thought and principles, thereby reintegrating a former militant into society as a peaceful citizen. Counter-radicalisation means providing a counter-narrative to radical ideology and challenging the extremist discourse.

Having grown up in 1990s, we are silent spectators of this sequence. Some of us are even victims of this mindset, which is reflected in surveys highlighting the Pakistani youth’s propensity towards extremist ideologies. A Gallup poll released in May this year showed that a majority of Pakistanis (59%) view themselves as Muslims first, and Pakistanis second, making the very concept of the nation-state redundant.

That was precisely the problem in Swat, that led to the military operation against the Taliban. After a military victory, the army called for a ‘de-radicalisation programme’. Between July 4 and 6 this year, the ISPR held a seminar on the phenomenon of de-radicalisation. Scores of activists and journalists were invited to observe the reclaiming of Swat.

One noticeable element was that almost all locals seemed hesitant in voicing their honest opinion. Far from where the seminar was organised, we sat with a group of locals in Mingora city who were glad that Swat was cleansed of extremist militants, but considered the army and Taliban ‘two sides of the same coin’. “We saw them having tea together, when the Taliban were taking over. They literally had checkposts besides each other,” a local said. The army’s inaction while militants took over the streets of Swat is reminisced with anger. Some segments still consider army as too ‘liberal’, stating that funfairs and musical concerts caused the 2010 floods. This is the typical conspiracy theory mindset that we, as a nation, ought to counter: it perplexes our introspective ability to rectify errors. It was exhibited by locals of Swat who saw the siege and counter-insurgency happen in front of their eyes.

Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan commanders like the loathed Mullah Fazlullah and his equally dreaded lieutenants Shah Doran and Bin Yameen capitalised on the religious ethos of the community, and eliminated rule of law and customs from Swat by capitalising on the enforcement of so-called “sharia law” which was granted assent by Tehreek-e-Nafaz-e-Shariat-e-Muhammadi’s Sufi Muhammad, and later, by the government as well. Fazlullah, the self-proclaimed ruler of Swat, did not control the streets of Swat overnight. It was a gradual advance, and that explains how this ideological war should be fought. His ambition was emboldened because the stakeholders of Pakistan pretended to be ignorant of the looming threat whilst Fazlullah was busy broadcasting a radical version of Islam and coercing local people to abide by his “shariah” laws. The conservative ethos of Swat’s society was manipulated, and its indigenous cultural values of pluralism, interfaith harmony, and even Pakhtunwali (the Pakhtun code and tradition), were destroyed by the Taliban, according to Swat Qaumi Jirga leader Ziauddin Yusufzai.

The foundations of terror had been laid; the government and the army appeared apathetic. Slowly, dead bodies started piling on the streets. The Green Chowk was renamed Khooni Chowk. And those visions have been imprinted on Swat’s history, on the mind of its children and of the youth. “Some people were terrified, while others were excited,” said Saddam, a local youth. “Communities and even families were divided over whether to support Fazlullah in his so-called jihad or to flee.”

Counter-radicalisation and de-radicalisation are two different things. Fighting radical elements and ideologies is as important as rehabilitating those who are misguided or exploited. But in order to successfully do both, a coherent distinction between ideological propagators, militarised elements, and fringes, or foot-soldiers, must be made. Unfortunately, counter-radicalisation is weak because neither the state nor the Pakistani society has been able to cogently challenge terrorist ideology, or the prevalent phenomena of religious intolerance and extremism. Lt General (r) Mustafa Khan, former CGS of Pakistan Army, emphasised this fact and said that the media and religious leaders must play a pivotal role in neutralising radical ideologies that exist across Pakistan. The war of ideology is inevitably a war that must be fought with opinions and ideas; it must encourage discourse and transactions of reason; it must develop spaces for freedom of speech and of expression as the objective of ultimate victory. And it is a war that must form the basic pillar of a new and improved national security paradigm for Pakistan.

Policy circles in Pakistan fail to understand that counter-terrorism is one part counter-insurgency and three parts counter-extremism or counter-radicalisation. The counter-insurgency component is essentially military in nature, but also implies transition to civil administration. The three parts of counter-extremism are ending political marginalisation, extending economic opportunities, and ensuring justice, rule of law, and writ of the state as basic services to the citizens. Since there are no clear parameters – no definition of friend and enemy, for instance – the War on Terror has sadly become a war of terror for the people of Pakistan. Afzal Khan Lala, who fought the Swat Taliban, urged the participants of the seminar to develop policies that devolve elected bodies and authorities to the district and tehsil levels so that local communities could make their own rules and abide by them.

Although Pakistan has suffered more military and civilian deaths than any of the other 49 allied nations in the War on Terror, we are unable to boast of mass consensus against radical elements, let alone any significant victory where we can brandish the “Mission Accomplished” banner. Every terrorist incident is viewed, popularly and misguidedly, from the prism of anti-Americanism. The resilience and sacrifice of the people of Swat in particular, and of Pakistan in general, must not go to waste. We as a society cannot ignore an emerging threat from radicalsm, that, if left unbridled, would bring no harmony and certainly no music.

Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi is the founder of Pakistan Youth Alliance, and is affiliated with Khudi Pakistan and Hosh Media.

Shemrez Nauman Afzal is a researcher and defense analyst with Spearhead Research, and is a social media consultant for Responsible Citizens – Zimmedar Shehri

Reclaiming ‘our’ Swat

First published in Islamabad Dateline.

‘Taliban are just 60 miles from Islamabad’, read the headlines in April, 2009. It was not Milton’s epic paradise that was lost; it was the Switzerland of Pakistan.

Swat Valley. Pic courtesy Sheikh Shakeel Ahsan

People of Swat faced the most brutal atrocities known in modern times. From slitting throats to public flogging and burning girl’s schools, from handwritten notices condemning shaving beards to banning women from visiting markets, almost every local narrates horrible stories of terror, horror and of the infamous Khoni Chowk.

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The 'green' chowk which was known to the world as Khoni Chowk [July, 2011

‘We had invited them for talks in our local mosque with our elders. We lived up to our promise and brought no weapons but they broke their promise and butchered everyone’, narrated Fazal from suburbs of Swat.

‘Whenever I saw them (Taliban) moving in streets, my legs started shaking’, a youth activist Yasin recalling the time of duress.

Kids playing Taliban?

Taliban

In May, 2009 Pakistan launched a second, but this time a full fledged military operation to cleanse radical elements from Swat. 2.3 Million people were displaced and hundreds of soldiers and civilians lost their lives.

Two years later, Pakistan Army organized ‘National De-radicalization Seminar’ here in Mingora, Swat from 4th-6th July, 2011.

Governor Khyber Pakhtunkhua Masood Kausar in his inaugural speech stressed upon the need to re-integrate former militants into the society. Major General Asif Javed, the GOC Swat gave insight into the military offensive whilst Lieutenant General (R) Mustafa Khan gave an overview of Pakistan’s contribution in war against terrorism quoting figures which revealed Swat was largest counter-insurgency operation involving 03 districts and also largest airborne operation In South Asian history. He told the audience that 150000 troops are deployed in WoT operations with 80 % aviation resources focused to battling terrorist elements. He said the world must acknowledge the sacrifices Pakistan made as only military casualties surpass 3000 men, and 9000 injured, greater than any country’s contribution in global war against terrorism.

Renowned experts like Khalid Aziz, Rasul Bakhsh Rais and Dr. Farrukh Saleem gave insight into the roots and causes of radicalism in Pakistan. Professor Miraj ul Islam presented an Islamic perspective of de-radicalisation.

Dr Savage. MS Malkhanti, Prof. Tahir Abbas, Dr. Maria Sultan, Dr. Zebloun Tainter and Babar Sattar talked about the UK, Saudi Arabia and Srilanka’s de-radicalisation models and also discussed legal hurdles in convicting terrorists.

Politicians like Ameer Muqam, Mushahid Hussein and Iftikhar Hussein also addressed the attendees. Members of civil society of Swat, Mussarat AhmedZeb and Zia-uddin Yousuf Zai gave a local perspective of happenings in Swat in the last two years.

 Ziauddin articulated that Swati people were very tolerant and the local tappa translating as ‘I’m Muslim, my friend a Hindu; for my friend, I sweep the temple’ underlines the culture of inter-faith harmony in Swati folklore.

DIG Malakand division, Qazi Jamil gave a revealing presentation of the current situation of jails in his domain, asking for the much needed help. Most of the thousands of arrested radicals, he said are in our jails and if we don’t initiate de-radicalization programs for prisoners they will end up radicalizing their fellow prisoners.

The attendees and media were also made to visit de-radicalisation rehabilitation centers run by Pakistan Army called Saboun, for juveniles and Mishal for adult former extremists with militant ties. The aim of these facilities was to provide mental, theological and educational help to former extremists and also present a counter-narrative to radical ideology. These facilities also impart vocational training which helps them earn livelihood. 

Dr Fareha Peracha, Director of Saboun said that in total around 100 graduates have already been successfully re-integrated as useful members of society. Currently 13-17 years old students enrolled students in Saboun number at 129.

Most of the kids, when inquired as to why they were brought here bowed their heads in regret, which clearly showed they were repelled to what they used to do before.

Nawab, a 15 year old Swati was a member of a right-wing religious-political party before joining Taliban as a cleaner. He said he wanted to become a civil engineer.

Another 14 year old said he had no choice but to join extremist elements as they had threatened to kill his family if he did not oblige. He wanted to become a solider and when asked why, he said ‘because I want to be able to protect my family’.

A bright young fellow Arshad had a similar story as I disturbed him during computer class. He said he loves Pakistan to the core and will not take part in any anti-state activity in future.

Arshad working on a computer at Mishal Rehab Facility

The seminar concluded with speeches from COAS, General Kiyani and the Prime Minister of Pakistan, Yousuf Raza Gillani.

Swat might serve as a perfect model for counter-insurgency, return of over 2.3 Million IDP’s within months of military offensive being launched might reiterate the resilience and resolve of Pakistanis but will Swat post military operation be able to serve as a potent force against religious extremism? Only time will tell.

 The absence of honest and upright leadership gives space to anyone with a strong agenda to take over the minds and consequently the streets of our neighborhoods. FazlUllah used FM radio to spread his venomous agenda; many other mediums are also available and used by radical elements without any checks from state institutions.

The blood soaked streets of Pakistan with nearly 40,000 deaths convey a silent protest: Why have we still not been able to enact a national level counter and de-radicalization policy? How many more Swats will it take to realize that the need for de-radicalization might not arise if we instigate grass roots counter-radicalization programs?

Swat was reclaimed; let’s hope we as a society don’t have to grow through the ordeal anywhere, again.

Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi is the founder of Pakistan Youth Alliance, he tweets @ali_abbas_zaidi    and can be reached at damanwiddaplan@hotmail.com

Kabir a day keeps radicalism at bay

First published in english daily, The Islamabad Dateline on 26th June, 2011

 

Almost 700 years ago, when religious polarisation in the Indian subcontinent was at its helm, a preacher was born. He was named Kabir and he spent the rest of life trying to bind Hindus and Muslims together. Today, as religious hatred is bred into masses and intolerance is injected into young minds one finds it necessary to bring forth Kabir, the champion of religious tolerance and interfaith harmony.

The mystics from united India are more relevant to us than Persian or Turkish voices as they spring from the culture we own. For a relatively more radicalized society in Pakistan, these pluralistic and tolerant voices need to be disseminated vehemently. These great men seemed to be far ahead of their times and Kabir is no exception. Kabir stands tall, in the line of greatest mystics of all time with St. Augustine, Ruysbroeck, Buddha, Rumi, Emre and Hallaj

Kabir’s vision, though timeless in its essence when transformed into simple poetry addresses the basic problems humanity faces today. His message was simple and straightforward — that God is perceived in different forms by different people, but in essence they all talk of One supreme power.

Koi bole Ram Ram, koi Khudai

(Some call him Ram, some name him Khuda) 

His honest message offended both Mullahs and Purohits for it challenged their stakes. He was persecuted by both to which he screamed:  

Sadhu dekho jag baurana / Sanchi kaho to maran dhawe /Jhoote jag patiyana

(O gentleman, see the world has got mad / I say truth but they run to beat me and believe the fake.)

His intent was not to offend anyone and he made it clear:

Kabira khada bazaar mein mange sab ki khair / na kahoo se dosti, na kahoo se bair

(Kabira Stands in the market place( the world) /  Asks for everyone’s prosperity. Neither special friendship nor enmity for anyone).

His mission, through his vision was to promote brotherhood, unity, love and forgiveness beyond regions and religions.

The Hindu says Ram is beloved, the Muslim says Rahim / They fight and kill each other, no one gets the point.

And the point that no one got was:

Maatii Aik Anaik Bhaanth Ker Saaji Sajan Haray
(The Clay Is The Same, But The Designer Has Designed It In Various Ways)

Kabir through his words challenged the authority our society has given to clerics quite audaciously:

The spiritual athlete often changes the color of his clothes
& his mind remains gray and loveless.
Or he drills holes in his ears, his beard grows enormous
People mistake him for a goat.
He shaves his skull & puts his robe in an orange vat,
Reads the Book  & becomes a terrific talker.
Kabir says: the truth is, you are riding in a hearse to the country of
death, bound hand & foot.

He even warned against the mindless following of religious preachers and to use one’s own conscience to decide what is right or wrong:

Jaka guru hai andhla, chela hai ja chandh / Andhe andha theliya, dunyu koop parent
(If the preacher is blind (unrealized) and the disciple is also blind, how can they progress further? If a blind shows the path to the other blind, they both are bound to fall in some dead well at some time).

To those bigoted who would not understand this, he remarked:

Phootee aankh vivek kee, lakhe na sant asant
(People have their inner eyes of conscience blind; they don’t see who is real and who is fake)

“What can one do, if, with lamp in hand, one falls in the well”

Bura jo dekhan main chala bura na milya koi / Jab man khoja aapna mujh se bura na koi.

(I went on the search for the Bad Guy, Bad Guy I couldn’t find. / When I searched my mind, Non one is Nastier then Me)

He lived to restore the confidence in the common man against the elite clergy or the rulers, who claimed their superiority by virtue of their status.  He explained:

Bada hua to kya hua jaise ped khajoor / Panthi ko chhaya nahin phal laage ati door.

(If You are Big so what? Just like a date tree / No shade for travelers, fruit is hard to reach).

He used simple vernacular language, with metaphors from common examples to engage the people around him. People were fascinated by the deep moral messages contained in his simple poetry.

Kabira Garv Na Keejiye, Uncha Dekh Aavaas / Kaal Paron Punyah Letna, Ouper Jamsi Ghaas

(Kabi , Don’t be so proud and vain, Looking at your high mansion / Tomorow you’ll lie under feet, On top will grow Grass).

Ab Tun Aaya Jagat Mein, Log Hanse Tu Roye / Aise Karni Na Kari, Pache Hanse Sab Koye

(When you came in to this world, Everyone laughed while you cried / Don’t do such work, That they laugh when you are gone)

And that it’s not one’s status but one’s deeds which pay off ultimately:

Ek daal do panchi re baitha kaun guru kaun chela / Guru ki karni guru bharela, chele ki karni chela.

(Both the preacher and the follower are together / but both will be dealt according to their deeds.).

The Purohits and Mullahs could not tolerate his audacity, and how he influenced the common man. His words had already penetrated into masses and exposed the self-righteous claims of every clergy. He got expelled from Kashi. He roamed around Benaras preaching his message and passed away in Maghar.

After his death both the Hindus and the Muslims both claimed ownership over him. There are a few legends but one wonders how was the matter resolved. As for now, there exists a Hindu shrine and a Muslim Dargah adjacent to each other at the place where he died.

Kabir’s words are very pertinent to current Pakistan, where religion is manipulated for political ends and justify acts of violence. Voice of Kabir needs to be resonated in our academia and society being the need of time. Why did not we own Kabir like  India? – I leave this question to be answered by the reader.

Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi & Ilmana Fasih

P.S: Those interested in Kabir are requested to watch this documentary on Kabir & Kabirism titled ‘Had Anhad’ (bounded boundlessly0  made by Indian filmographer Shabnam Virmani. This film journeys through song and poem into the politics of religion, and finds a myriad answers on both sides of the hostile border between India and Pakistan. Watch it here

Islamabad: missing out on Rickshaw ramblings

First published in The Islamabad Dateline on 22nd June, 2011

Islamabad is just perfect, except that it does not have rickshaws. For the rest of Pakistan rickshaws remain to be the most popular means of transportation.

The exuberance and joy of a topsy turvy ride aside, one is most intrigued by ‘rickshaw art’ which gives a blunt insight into what a common man of Pakistan really thinks.

Rickshaws are usually decorated from bumper to bell. The front end is religious while the backboard serves as the focal point of more broad based artistry like rural scenes, animals, flowers, pictures of inspirational leaders, monuments, religious symbols and poetry.

The final look of rickshaw varies as per taste of the owner. The most important aspect of the rickshaw art is perhaps the poetry written on it. Some verses and quotations written on the back of these fast moving-three wheeler vehicles are collected below:

• Maalik Ki Gaadi Driver Ka Paseena – Chalti Hai Road Par Ban Kar Haseena

• Buri Nazar Wale, Tera Moonh Kala

• Qismat Aazma Chuka, Muqadar Aazma Raha Hoon – Aik Bewafa Ki Khatir Riksha Chala Raha Hoon

• Kabhee Side Say Aatee Ho Kabhee Peechay Se Aatee Ho – Meree Jaan Horn Day Day Kar Mujhay Tum Kyon Satatae Ho

• Pappu Yaar Tang Na Ker!

• Zehreeli Nagan

• Koi Jal Gaya, Kisi Nain Dua Di

• Main Phir Aaon Ga

• Tappar Hai To Paar Kar Warna Bardaasht Kar

• Dekh Magar Pyar Se!

• Khatharnaak Rambo

• Horn Day Ker Paas Kerain

• Chal Dhanno

• Phir Milayngay

• Akhri Shahzada

• Tera Jadoo Chal Gya

• Hosh Ker Kherghosh

• Wo Dekho Mastani Ja Rahi Hai

• Zid Meri Majboori hai

• Ae Eagle tujhay qasam hai himmat na harna, jaisi bhi fizaen aen hans k fly karna.

• Zindagi ne aik baar phir dulha bana dia

• Aag aggay waikh pichaay na waikh

• Palat kar daikh zalim tamana hum bhi rakhtay hain.

• Fasla rakh warna mohabbat hojaegi

• Shikar karma hai to ankhon se kar, talwar mein kia rakha hai-safar karma hy to rickshaw mein kar car mein kia rakha hai.

• Chalay jasso ya chhor avan

• Zid na kar sonhaya main aap bara ziddi aan

• Bismillah Parr Kar Swar Hoon Shaid Yeh Aap Ki Zindgi Ka Akhri Safar Ho

• Model 2010 Raftaar 65 KM Fee Ghantta

• Tu Lang Ja Saddi Khair Ey

While some are just plain humorous others are overwhelmingly political and sarcastic:

Cantt say guzartay huway horn ahista bajaen, Pak Fouj soh rahi hai

Roti 2 Rs. CNG 100 Rs – Khadim e Ala, day zara jawab!

“Agar Rabb ne Chaaha to manzil tak pohancha doonga, aur agar aankh lag gai tou Rabb se hee milwa doonga”

• Sawari labbay na labbay, Speed aik so nabbay (190)

• Jis ne Maan ko Sataya Uss ne rikshaw chalaya

• Chal Pagli Sajan Ke Dais

• Lag jai te Rozi na lagaay too Roza

• ”Teri Yad Aie Teray Janay Ky Baad”

• ” Pak Foj Ko Salam”

• ”Mint Di Fursat Nai Dheelay Di Amdan Nai”

• ” Kharchay Malkan de Nakhray Lokan Dy”

• “Dollar Ki Talash Mein”

• “Haseenon Sy Nafrat Piyar Sy Toba”

• ” Baba Easy Load Ghawari” (Pushto)

• ”Baba Pa Khafa Ki Ghi” (Pushto)

• ” Zid Na Kur Sohneya Time Sadi Majboori Aye”

• ”Jeenay Nai Doon Ga”

And while truck art is entertaining, sometimes it lends out an  honest advice as well:

• Aye admi haram khana chor dey

tyre mehngay hain race lagana chor dey

• Mera sheher, Mansehra

• Afridi Tayyara

• Kabhi to aao na Sargodha, surmaa laga ke

• Pakhtunkhwa Khappay Khappay Khappay!

But if I were to compare rickshaw ramblings to truck quotes, one notion that becomes distinctly clear is that the truck drivers are mostly a ‘heart-broken’ lot with their poetry divulging into melancholic seriousness. Ata Ullah Esa Khelvi, who is famous for his sad numbers is a favourite of truck drivers and is played from Karachi to Khyber. He doesn’t enjoy the same support from rickshaw-drivers community who are more into Abrar Ul Haq and the likes.

If you want to learn about what Pakistan is all about, ride a rickshaw during rush hours through busy streets and markets but don’t forget to talk to the driver about anything on your mind and get a reflection from the back end of his ride. And yes, one more thing, never tell him to drive fast.

 

They Say We Are Inferior: Reclaiming women’s voice in man’s world

 Edip Harabi, a Turkish Sufi-Poet of the 19th c., writes to reclaim the women’s voice in ‘man’s world’

O’ Muhammad, they say we are inferior. Where is it men got this mistaken idea?
They disgrace the Prophet’s family with their false claims and blasphemy.

Our Mother Eve, is she not a woman? Beloved Khadija is she not a woman?
The Prophet’s daughter Fatima, is ehe not a woman? Is the Quran not full of praise of them?

These pure consorts of the pure heart can they be any less?
Whoever calls women inferior cannot reach the Truth.
You wouldn’t expect these ideas from one who knows.
Who is it that gave birth to all these Prophets of Truth?

God didn’t do anything absurd in creating us.
We don’t accept being seen as somehow less.
Women raised every saint that has walked the earth.
I dare you to accept this.

Don’t think this world can’t exist without men.
Think of Mother Mary just once: She gave birth to the glorious Christ, fatherless.
O’ mankind, we are more courageous than yourself because we show respect to you out of love.

We travel together with you on the Path, leave all these claims behind!
We may look different to you in your dresses.
In reality we are not trailing behind you.
And we warn you, we don’t consider it courageous to claim we are inferior.

Did Muhammad, the Chosen, come from a lesser being?
Did Ali, the Valiant, come from a lesser being?
Beware! Do not call your mother inferior.
What she prays at night might change your life forever.
Listen carefully to the speech of Zehra.
O’ men and knowers of Truth tell us:
Did we not give birth to all the masters who led you on God’s Way?