Daily Times

Through a private video taken after his death, Aftab Ahmed, a close aide of Farooq Sattar, the parliamentary leader of the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM), makes his first appearance on national television. As a dead man, he is not saying anything in the short clip. But his exposed body tells us a long story, a story describing in minute details what happened to him before he passed away: bruises of various sizes patched over his torso and limbs, a small hole drilled into his elbow.

Looking at his discoloured skin, his swollen arms and legs, it seemed as if he was treated by the paramilitary Rangers like an enemy agent holding state secrets, a terrorist who was going to blow himself up, not as a political worker or a public figure, and definitely not as a respectable human being. What was his crime to deserve that treatment? That he belonged to a political party? By saying that, I do not wish to exonerate the MQM of any wrongdoing. Anyone who has committed a crime should be investigated, prosecuted and punished. But, the severity of trauma indicates much more than investigation. It shows hatred and disgust.

If the video had not been leaked, the cause of his death would have been limited to a ‘heart attack’ without the mention of torture. Hidden somewhere on the back page of a newspaper, the news item would not have gained much public attention. After the leaked pictures of his tortured body in media, Director General of Paramilitary Force, Bilal Akbar, was not left with much of a choice except to admit that the political worker was mistreated during the custody, but he insisted that Ahmed died of a heart attack.

As it became apparent that the story could not be suppressed or twisted, an inquiry commission upon the directive of Chief of the Army Staff General Raheel Sharif was formulated, investigation started and officials involved in the case suspended. So far so good, but based on our past experience of such commissions and intradepartmental inquiries we can draw certain conclusions ahead of time.

First, the scope of such an investigation will be limited even if it is conducted by a third party like the judiciary or members of parliament. In addition, the compliance of ‘high level’ military officers with a civilian authority will always be questionable. In general, the ‘officers of great importance’ approach any query by judicial bodies with a grain of salt, as to them both patriotism and intentions of non-uniformed investigators are untrustworthy. Being drenched in the holy water of self-righteousness, they feel scornful about the idea of being questioned by a corrupt politician, an elected representative or a judge.

Their standard knee jerk response, therefore, is to evade the whole process, in particular making a personal appearance. If somehow their excuses fail and they can’t escape coming to a court for testimony, they focus not on trying to prove their innocence but on establishing an entirely different principle: that the rules of business of military are no-go-areas for civilians who must confine themselves to their boundaries.

Second, the report of the investigation will never be made public. Reason? It can lead to a demand of another commission and further investigation, which would involve more probing, more questions. Why bother with the process if it can be avoided?

Third, the officials involved will get minimum penalty like the ones found guilty of corruption: no time in jail and continuation of their pension and health care benefits. Fourth, the agency will find the junior-most personnel, preferably a non-commissioned officer, to pin down as a sacrificial lamb. Commissioned officers are guarded, and the higher you sit on the chain of command, the more security you receive, to the point that anyone with a star on the shoulder stands almost untouchable. Fifth, once the news settles down, and media gets diverted back to politics, the defendants will be sent to comfortable places away from the camera.

Would that satisfy the people of Karachi? Or would it lead to further resentment against the security personnel? The people of Karachi, since the current operation started, fear that though on surface the action is targeted to eradicate terrorism and bring peace back to the city, but in reality it is aimed at the MQM and the political will of the Urdu-speaking community. Torturing a political worker thus does not surprise them. People knew all along that whoever gets ‘arrested’ would undergo the same inhuman ‘investigative process’ as Aftab Ahmed did, a process that is both illegal and immoral.

In other words, they do not believe that the death of the activist is an ‘anomaly’; rather, they consider it a routine matter, an institutional problem, the only way known to the law enforcing agencies through which they can extract ‘reliable’ information despite overwhelming literature suggesting against it. According to research, people under distress would confess to any crime and would give out any information — notwithstanding its validity — to get rid of pain and suffering. Yet the practice continues. How much false information is obtained and then acted upon through these procedures? No one knows. And how many innocent people are captured, tortured or killed after that? No details are available about that either. The whole process regarding the treatment of prisoners is as dark as a black hole where information can enter but cannot come out. No one can ask a question and no one would respond. The laws fail to exist, the lawmakers fear to interfere. We are quiet as if we are the dead Aftab Ahmed.

The writer is a US-based freelance columnist. He tweets at @KaamranHashmi and can be reached at skamranhashmi@gmail.com