Thirteen months ago, when the tragedy at the Army Public School (APS) occurred, every Pakistani was shaken to the core. Beyond grief, it was just hard to comprehend. How could anyone, regardless of their ideology, even the most cold-blooded terrorist, deliberately shoot children aged eight, nine or 10, and scores of them, at point blank range? There were 141 killed at the time, including 132 young school children.
Since early 2007, we have seen a continuous spate of suicide attacks and perhaps over time many of us have become numb to what has been happening around us but the APS massacre was different. It shattered the stupor of indifference that the country had gotten into. For once, even the world grieved with us. At the time, the event galvanised a lot of action. Imran Khan finished his dharna (sit-in), a political and military consensus evolved and a National Action Plan (NAP) on terrorism was developed. Never again, we all said, and for once the talk seemed to be backed by some action.
Well, it has happened once again. Watching the events unfold at Bacha Khan University live on television, the ghosts of 13 months ago made all of us fear the worst. How many young lives would be lost this time? How many parents would need to deal with the incomprehensible deaths of their children for the fault of sending them to school? Fear is a strange and funny thing. After the terror at APS, when the army stepped in and the university was secured, the fact that the death toll was only 21 made many heave a sigh of relief. It could have been worse. It could have been so much worse.
Since then, the deluge. Almost all of the reactions are understandable. Yes, it is outrageous that we should need to accept that we should be thankful just because a greater tragedy has been averted. Try telling that to the parents of those dead in Bacha Khan University. Yes, it is worth questioning whether the provincial and federal governments and the army could have done more. Yes, it is true that each terrorist attack, as hard as it is to prevent, is ultimately a security failure and our leaders need to accept responsibility. However, is that the only way we should look at this attack? In particular, is it only grief, anger and critical indignation that should guide our reaction?
We must remember that we are a nation at war. We may have inflicted this war on ourselves, but we can now do nothing to change that. We can now only fight back and in each death, the emotion and the tragedy of what happened in Charsadda makes me proud to say that we are. I am devastated beyond belief but I am certain that we are fighting back and winning. We can do much more but I hope and believe we have turned a corner, and we must hold on to that hope. The attack at Bacha Khan University will not be the last of its kind. Unfortunately, that can be said with absolute certainly but if that is the cost that we must pay to win this war then, while it cannot be acceptable, it must be something that we all must bear. The next time it may be one of us, our parents, our children, but we must find a way to bear it.
A few years ago, in late 2009 or early 2010, I remember a time when there was an attack in Pakistan almost every day, an attack in and around Khyber Pakhtunkhwa every day. It was a time when many of us did not even believe that the Taliban existed, that Muslim could kill Muslim. That has changed today. Just a couple of years ago, there was a massive divide in public opinion. Should we talk to the Taliban? Or fight them? Or both? Today, that has changed. The army, the government and the opposition, for all their flaws, are making a significantly better effort to act in unison and, while much can be improved, that gives me a quiet confidence that sooner or later, a nation as resilient as Pakistan will overcome this challenge. Having said so, amidst the tragedy, we must also find reason to hope, be inspired and be thankful. We must look to our heroes.
Those martyred, their parents and relatives who have to bear with their loss are our heroes. The security guards, the Charsadda police and the Pakistan army, all of those who fought the terrorists are our heroes. It is all too easy to forget that while most of us simply go to office for a living, these are all people who have decided, for a salary lower than ours, to be willing to take a bullet to save the lives of others. Think about it.
The people of Charsadda, those who went to the university to try to fight the terrorists, as foolish as that may have been, are our heroes. I could not be prouder than to be from Charsadda today. Finally, all of those who decide to send their children to school today, tomorrow and the day after are also our heroes for the resilience that they show.
None of this dulls the pain or can compensate for the loss of a loved one. It should not. But while we must grieve, we must also find hope, inspiration and resolve because the cold, hard fact is that this is a war that will go on for a while before we win it definitively.
The writer works in the development sector and hails from the village of Fazalabad in Charsadda