Daily Times

Mohabbat golion se bo rahe ho,

Watan ka chehra khoon se dho rahe ho;

Guman tum ko ke rasta kat raha hai,

Yaqin mujh ko ke manzil kho rahe ho.

(You plant love with bullet-lead/You wash the land with blood;/You feel that a solution is ahead/But I know that the dream is dead)

—Habib Jalib (1928-1993)

Habib Jalib was a revolutionary poet, and one of the few to speak out against the Operation Searchlight, acts of genocide carried out by the Pakistan army in East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) in 1970 in order to eliminate the burgeoning Bengali nationalist movement. The gross human rights violation that ensued killed up to 300,000 (estimates vary) East Pakistani citizens.

To justify a killing of a people — be it on basis of race, ethnicity, creed, sex, religion, or sect — requires a ‘dehumanisation’ of that people first. The target group is stripped of sympathetic human traits and made to appear inferior, or in the case of religious extremist groups ‘infidel’. The recent atrocities against minority groups in Pakistan have reminded us again that the penchant for practising this process has not dissipated.

Whilst terrorist activity has spread like a miasma over Pakistan for almost a decade now, (with the Pakistani state and security forces being the main targets) sectarianism has reentered the arena with vengeance. Mass killings make most headlines but sectarian target killings are also rampant, concentrated for the most part in Karachi, but also active in Lahore, Peshawar, and elsewhere.

Attack and assassination of aid workers, such as Parveen Rehman, is another painful occurrence that threatens symbols of hope in Pakistan, deeply hurting the country’s morale.

At the time of writing, sectarian violence poses one of the most critical threats to Pakistan’s internal security. Areas to most often fall under the wrath of radicals are Karachi, Quetta and the ‘middle Agencies’ (Kurram, Khyber, and Orakzai) of the Federally Administered Tribal Areas; unsurprisingly, these areas have large Shia populations. ‘Militant migration’ from tribal areas to big cities like Karachi, in the aftermath of military operations and US drone strikes, has also contributed to weakening the already fragile security situation in the largest Pakistani city.

While Sunni-Shia rivalry and attacks on minority such as Christian, Hindus and Ahmedis, have a long history in Pakistan, the intensity of these attacks has worsened with the spread of the Pakistani Taliban across the country, bringing in tandem the groups more lethal modus operandi: suicide bombings and mass killings.

In 1990, there were 274 incidents of sectarian violence in Pakistan; but the total number killed stood at a rather mute 32. While every killing is a tragedy and a travesty of human rights and humanity, this death toll pales in comparison to the mass casualties the country currently suffers at the hands of extreme sectarianism.

The past decade has seen the voracity of sectarian attacks steadily rise, resulting in hundreds of deaths year after year. Glaring levels of communalism and a gloomy national morale are the epiphenomenon of such a series of strikes.

Last year (2012), 173 episodes of sectarian violence left a staggering 507 people dead in Pakistan. Already, this year, between January–March, 267 lives have been claimed in a spree of sectarian slaughter. As the Pakistani public despondently chews on one calamity, another is force-fed to them:

January:106 killed in Quetta

February: 80 killed in Quetta

March: 45 killed in Karachi

When a society cannot swallow all its sorrows, does it become desensitised? Or does it lash out wild as a vulture’s cry? At the moment it appears that a minority — the militant minority — prone to dehumanise and kill, is growing more and more vocal, hushing the rest to silence.

The ferociousness of militants is a result in part of the changing configuration within the Pakistani Taliban or Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) corps. The sectarian stripes of the TTP ideology and activity is more discernible now, and especially since the takeover of Hakimullah Mehsud as the head of the organisation, along with an inculcation of commanders and cadres from sectarian backgrounds into the group.

The intertwining of ‘Punjabi’ extremist elements with the Pashtun-borne Taliban movement has translated to a surge in terrorist activity in Pakistan’s heartland. The Punjabi factions include offshoots of sectarian groups, such as Sipah-e-Sahaba Pakistan and Lashkar-e-Jhangvi, as well as previously Kashmir/India-oriented outfits like the Jaish-e-Mohammad.

Another TTP ideologue and commander, Qari Hussain, better known as Ustad-e-Fidayeen purportedly held a high post within the Lashkar-e-Jhangvi during the peak of sectarian violence in Karachi where he developed an extensive network. As the designated ‘suicide commander’, Qari was behind the most savage of terrorist activity in Pakistan. He was allegedly killed by a drone attack in 2010, to be replaced by Wali Mohammad alias Toofan (also targeted by a drone strike in January this year). However, such information is difficult to verify; in the past, several militants, like Ilyas Kashmiri, were reported dead, only to be resurrected again (and then killed again).

The Lashkar-e-Jhangvi, in particular, boasts close ties to al Qaeda. Arguably, with a more bellicose modus operandi, the group has targeted Shias with a new al Qaeda-inspired vigour, resulting in mass sectarian killings.

Recent killings leave little doubt that extremist elements in Pakistan remain powerful. However, it should be remembered that these elements continue to make up only a fraction of society. The vociferous ‘visibility’ of the actions of extremist elements (manifested in mass sectarian killings) should not be confused with a growing support for such intolerance and violence.

It is therefore ironic that the war on minority groups in Pakistan is actually being won by a minority: the extremist fringe. To reverse their victory and represent the more peaceful disposition of the masses, the silent majority should speak, scream, squall on top of its lungs, and in the name of humanity.

The writer is an Oslo-based political analyst and freelance writer. She can be reached at www.qandeel.strategiskanalyse.no