Conflicts of every sort are simmering in Pakistan’s underbelly, and it won’t take much for them to bubble to the surface.
The latest examples of unrest were the sectarian clashes that erupted in Rawalpindi on the eve of Ashura. At least nine people were killed and 80 were wounded when armed clashes broke out between Sunni and Shiite groups. Each side has accused the other of provocation, and now there are fears of a violent blow-back.
In subsequent analyses, the use of loudspeakers has come under particular scrutiny, and many have called on the government to ban their use. This approach is somewhat reminiscent of the calls made by some Muslims in the Subcontinent during British rule, who decried the use of bicycles, deeming them an invention of the devil. Of course, it is true that loudspeakers are used to propagate and spew sectarian and religious hatred, but this is merely a symptom of a much more serious disease gnawing at the foundations of Pakistani society.
The real issue is the people behind the loudspeakers. Clerics, especially those who belong to or are sympathetic to extremist organisations, need to be reigned in. Similarly, the sale of propagandist materials across the country needs to be addressed, but this is easier said than done. The state is under pressure from all sides, the economy is a shambles and all the while terrorism remains unabated. Above all, the political will to tackle the most contentious and combustible issues is missing.
Against such a grim backdrop, any task would seem daunting – but the government must stop dithering. There is, however, an unfortunate trend in Pakistan, where each successive government has capitulated to extremists. In order to placate them, each government has acceded more ground to those with guns. Instead of a bare-knuckle fight, governments have time and again chosen to fight with the gloves on.
This time around, the situation is no different. The government’s knee-jerk reaction was primarily to divert public attention by initiating a treason case against former military ruler, General Pervez Musharraf. While this may seem like the right thing to do in principle, the timing of the move reeked of political expediency. Behind the scenes, the government negotiated with extremist Sunni groups, who have predictably used the threat of violent reprisals to their advantage.
The price of ensuring peace has been paid by capitulation and bowing before militant pressure. Leaders of banned outfits have clawed their way back into the limelight, appearing on TV to claim credit for keeping a lid on potential violence. The payback has been taken in the form of more political space and undeserved concessions. For the good of the country, such a Faustian bargain may prove to be its death knell.
