Daily Times

The recent Supreme Court (SC) verdict in the Qadri case inspired in me what seemed to be dangerously close to a moment of cognitive dissonance. On the one hand, I, like many others gravely concerned with the state’s capitulation to forces of religious intolerance and violence, was overjoyed by the apex court’s landmark ruling, which awarded Mumtaz Qadri — one of the biggest symbols of Pakistan’s entrenched fanaticism — the maximum possible punishment allowed under law. This is doubtlessly a great victory for the forces of justice in the land, and the way the judgement has defied prevailing norms has been nothing short of laudatory. However, on the other hand, I am, along with a significantly smaller number of conscientious objectors, morally and in principle against the use of the death penalty by the state under any circumstances. And yet, here I am jubilantly welcoming the SC’s verdict and exposing those of my ilk to charges of hypocrisy.

Pakistan has had a messy and regressive relationship with capital punishment in the recent past. After executions were put on hold for the duration of the PPP’s reign, the Nawaz Sharif government had been enthusiastically trying to reinstate the death penalty from the very first day it took office but could not find the political will to defy international pressure until in the aftermath of the Peshawar Army Public School (APS) massacre last year. Lo and behold, the moratorium was promptly lifted and capital punishment was once again unleashed to thundering applause, while moral objectors watched in horrified silence. First, it was exclusively for terrorists but by March 2015 anyone convicted under any of the 27 possible charges that carry the death penalty was liable to be executed. Overwhelmingly supported by the public and mainstream media, this downward spiral has been packaged as the answer to all of Pakistan’s criminal problems. And now, in perhaps the most high profile case of our times, an unrepentant cold-blooded killer who is loved by swathes of the population has been charged with terrorism and sentenced to death by the highest court in the land.

For the proponents of the death penalty, who also happen to be opposed to Pakistan’s militant culture and religious intolerance, this case has validated their belief in the corrective powers and moral righteousness of capital punishment. Indeed, the gut reaction of many has been to be swept up in bouts of disconcerting zeal as the internet’s comments sections fill up with bloodthirsty demands to expedite Qadri’s hanging and, in more instances than one, extending that bloodlust to his lawyers by calling for their heads as well.

The gauntlet is thrown in front of those who have in the past either actively campaigned against or merely expressed opinion against the use of death penalty: “Will you really argue that this man be shown mercy? Do you honestly believe that someone like him is capable of being rehabilitated?” In an aghast fit, we are asked to keep our mouths shut because we are too soft, too idealistic, too removed from the grim realities of Pakistan to function. Besides, we too have for the most part welcomed the verdict so we are deemed to be standing on thin ice and are thus unfit to persist with our moral absolutism.

However, these charges of hypocrisy are decidedly inaccurate and the calls from hitherto fellow travellers to give up on the fight to end the death penalty are nothing more than the usual outcomes of a passionate lack of reflection. How can one celebrate the judgment and still, without contradiction, oppose the death penalty? Easy. It is contended that the symbolic significance of the judgment far outweighs the sentence it upholds.

The symbolic significance is rooted in the Justice Khosa-headed panel going against the grain and delivering a bold verdict that affirms that the SC is committed to upholding the social contract, that it will not allow for vigilantism or religious extremism and that it supports the democratic right of an individual to dissent and debate laws. By doing so it defied the precedent of various justices wilting under the intense pressure from unseemly forces and compromising on principle issues. It was important then that Justice Khosa condemn the convict with the highest possible punishment allowed under law to showcase the seriousness of his intent. That the highest punishment on the books is the death penalty is merely incidental.

The courts can only work with the laws made by parliament. If the government has mandated the death penalty for extreme offenses then it is bound by precedent to follow through. It is conceivable that the panel could have taken a principled stance against the death penalty but one has to be fair to them. The justice system that the SC sits on top of is currently in direct competition with military justice, the proponents of which use the failure of civilian judges to convict terrorists to argue for the necessity of military courts. This judgment can, therefore, also be read as the SC trying to assert its supreme status and reclaiming the space the politicians have been too willing to cede. Were the SC to commute Qadri’s sentence to life on principle grounds, it is likely that it would have been hounded relentlessly and charges of weakness would have intensified. So we, the opponents of the death penalty, have to salvage any positive that comes our way.

Regardless of one’s opinion on the Qadri case, the quest to permanently see the back of capital punishment must go on. Justice should not be personalised; it cannot be reduced to emotional appeals of retribution. Justice does not exist to satisfy the urge of citizens to see wrongdoers suffer; it exists to ensure the wellbeing of society is not put at risk. The purpose of justice is in its capacity to make for a better, more humane society and its edicts should serve as a model for an ideal society. Moral appeals aside, capital punishment is also empirically ineffective — study after study show that the rate of executions has no bearing on the crime rate. Finally, having the death penalty in Pakistan is simply asking for tragedy. The real cognitive dissonance lies in recklessly arguing in favour of an irreversible punishment based on the evidence producing skills of the same police force widely believed to be inept and corrupt. The lives of hundreds of potential innocents are in jeopardy because we as a society have decided to curb our passion and empathy in favour of seeming uncompromising.

The writer is an assistant editor at Daily Times