Pakistan, Can You Hear Me?

The recent suicide attack in Dera Ismail Khan that targeted the funeral of aShia Muslim cleric, Sher Zaman, who was gunned down, was shocking enough. Butwhat is even more shocking is the sheer passivity in the reaction of people inPakistan to recent events in Dera Ismail Khan and Swat. 

It is appalling to think that Pakistanis are ever-ready to take to thestreets, shouting slogans and burning effigies, when Salman Rushdie writessomething controversial or when offensive cartoons are published in Danishnewspapers but are curiously silent when the funeral of a religious leader isbombed in sectarian violence. Or when Taliban forces capture Swat and startbeheading people for religious insubordination.  

Where is the conscience of a nation? Where are the protests and themillion-man marches? Where are the voices that rally dormant citizens to action-- on television, in the newspapers, on Facebook even?  

If no one protests, it just sends a signal that this is OK. It is OK to bomba Shia funeral, but it is not OK to write an irreverent story or draw cartoonsthat poke fun at religion. Where are people’s priorities? How much deeper intothe abyss is Pakistan going to sink? 

Islamic fundamentalism’s biggest draw is that it is a utopian alternativeto the miserable realities of people’s lives. But everywhere thatfundamentalists have come to power, their sheen has worn off. Think ofBangladesh, Turkey and Iran. People realize that mullahs can preach all day, butthey can’t run a country. So if sectarianism, and militancy in the north-westareas is Pakistan’s big problem, then perhaps it is also Pakistan’s bigsolution.  

Maybe the harsh Zia era was not enough. Maybe what Pakistan needs, finally,is for the Islamists to actually come to power, impose draconian edicts andprovide the country with a final inoculation against excessive religiosity. 

Maybe then, after suffering through medieval laws against adultery andblasphemy, ordinary Pakistanis will shed their passivity, agitate to separatethe state from the tentacles of the mosque and loudly cry no to religiouseducation in high schools, to religion lines on their passports and to rhetoricthat urges them to subordinate their citizenship to their religious beliefs.Perhaps Pakistan needs a bitter pill that will forever taint this notion of thereligious right being the ultimate defenders of flag and faith.  

At the heart of Pakistan’s crisis is a national tendency to over-emphasizereligion, whether in politics, or at home. Sure, religion can be a good thing.But this seems to be a case of too much of a good thing. It will only help ifPakistan begins a massive religious re-discovery movement, its own vernacularversion of Protestantism.

But must we go down that dangerous path? Is it really not possible for peopleto realize what is happening to what is left of their country? Atrocities likethe bombing of funerals and the usurping of freedoms from the people of Swatprovide opportunities for everyone to clearly see the many evils of excessivereligious zeal and of outfits like the Taliban.  

Pakistan is the global epicenter of Islamic fundamentalism because of adysfunctional political system and its fundamental challenge of being an Islamicstate since its inception. Even today, there are too many in Pakistan’s upperechelons – bureaucrats, politicians, power players, journalists andintellectuals – who are uncomfortable with the prospect of secularism,modernism, growth and an open society.  

Pakistan’s elites are a paradox. They are largely secular and confident intheir professional and social roles. In New York and London, they announcethemselves as a part of the modern world. Pakistani men and women throng WallStreet banks and the hottest Manhattan nightclubs. But in Karachi they are moreguarded and cautious, and readily cow down to orthodoxy. How they change and fittheir modern lifestyles into parochial Pakistan is one of the greatest exercisesin hypocrisy.  

But as they continue to avert their eyes, Pakistan is being overrun withcruel, medieval attitudes toward women, education, economic liberalization andmodernity in general. Bringing change to Pakistan – reforming a politicalsystem and revolutionizing an entire culture – sounds like an impossiblechallenge. But all the mullahs in the world can’t stand up to the combinedwill of an agitating and determined citizenry.  

There are positive signs coming from Pakistan, however. YehHum Naheen – an NGO headed by producer and media consultant WaseemMahmood – has put together a musical movement that stands up against terrorismand tells the world that the Pakistani people sing the songs of peace. Theyclaim that more than 62 million people have put their name to theorganization’s petition against terrorism, more than the number who voted inthe last election in Pakistan. And as BarkhaDutt eloquently pointed out in a recent column, "Pakistan’s mediaunderstands that if it doesn’t speak up, their country’s existential crisiscould spiral out of control." In light of the tremendous dangers at hand, wemust concede that the media in Pakistan has done an extraordinary job, shewrites.

But clearly more Pakistanis must come out on the streets to protest againstthe Taliban, against violence and against the murder of their own people. Andfor peace and dignity and friendship with their neighbours. Let them pressuretheir state to take action and soon enough the world will unite around theircourage and share in their battle.

But if they decide to stay at home and say nothing, they will be sanctioningevil itself.  

Rakesh Mani is a NewYork-based writer.