Those who wield the baton, make the laws

We live in a country where we are confronted with some grave calamitous incident or the other at an alarming frequency; and with each, there is a feeling that the nation has hit rock bottom.

When half a dozen militants breached – nay violated – with disturbing ease the façade of security at one of the more secure locations, the PNS Mehran Base, home to several key, sensitive installations, it was the same feeling that gained currency. The question, or the sentiment, repeated with rhetorical flourish by all who had a voice was can it get any worse?

It can. And it did…with no end in sight.

As the nation was still absorbing the shock of the attack on the base, which resulted in the loss of the precious lives of ‘foot soldiers’ and the destruction of two super expensive surveillance aircrafts, another incident occurred that shocked the populace to the core. Despite being conditioned to violence, rape, murder, humiliation, injustice and all other vices, the inhumane shooting to death of an unarmed teenager – beginning for mercy and life – by a uniformed soldier of the Pakistan Rangers sent a chill down our collectively apathetic spine. It also provoked raw emotions – including hatred and disgust – against the already despised upholders of law.

But is this outpouring of rage merely due to the fact that the grisly episode was caught on tape and flashed across local channels television screens. Or is it because of another incident where the same brutality was on display: when the personnel of the Frontier Constabulary literally emptied all available rounds of bullets on four unarmed foreigners in Kharotabad area of Balochistan.

Chastise the media as much you want for the apparent ‘convenient juxtaposition’ of the annus horribilis of our law enforcers, but when offered together for mass consumption, these two acts has resulted in the horrific realisation that these acts are not mere anomalies. Instead, the narrative that is taking shape is that of the abuse of the overarching powers vested in the paramilitary forces resulting in a ruthless streak where even the lowest cadre can turn trigger happy at the most trivial pretext.

This has added to the increasing sense of insecurity felt by the average urban man. Already living in a society with abnormally high rates of organised and street crime, citizens feel trapped with no avenues to seek justice. The police force is widely perceived to be in cahoots with criminal gangs, while this nexus – according to most city-watchers, is strengthened by political patronage.

Corruption is the accepted reality of this existential farce. Its tentacles spread to all domains of society, with the government and the judicial system extremely susceptible.

The urban man’s fallacious fantasy of escaping to the peace and tranquil of the countryside is an equally preposterous myth. Feudals operate their fiefdoms with impunity; with human enslavement one of the primary features of the rural Pakistan. As is the case in major cities, justice is a handmaiden of the rich and the powerful in villages as well; while tribal customs such as karo-kari, vani and many others continue to repress the downtrodden. The news of the dishonouring of a mother in Hazara, forced to parade naked in her village, will invoke heated debate on talk-shows. But her plight, and that of many others, will be no more than a footnote in the memories of a socialite dilettante.

Ours is a nation that leads on all the wrong indices: of infant mortality, violence against women, target killings, corruption, etc. We can not boast of a single institution that has not been tarnished.

Once, though, there was a holy cow: the Army. Its reputation somehow stayed intact despite the shenanigans and the machinations of its chiefs, and its influence on the democratic trajectory remains a moot point.

But the holier-than-thou narrative has come under intense scrutiny of late. The Army’s adventurism, budgetary allocation, commercial expansionism and the covert and overt collusion with those who are hell bent upon wreaking havoc in Pakistan has greatly fractured the belief and the trust that was once blindly reposed in it. The activities and influence of the Inter Services Intelligence (ISI) has resulted in it as well as its mother institution being considered pernicious by a disparate network of experts and commentators. While there is no proof, accusations have flown in from all over against the Army, and the ISI in particular, for the cold-blooded murder of journalist Saleem Shehzad.

While that is one popular grievance, there are many others that have been muffled. A vast portion of the population of two provinces, Baluchistan and Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa, alng and the tribal agencies are in a state of war against the Army. Kashmir and militancy are the two other fronts where they have been constantly engaged; and there seems to be no end in sight.

And now, their strongest support base, the average Pakitani, is turning against them. At least they are well-equipped to defend themselves.

It is the situation of the average Pakistani that is truly bleak: unarmed, unprepared and mostly defenseless. The story of Sarfaraz, Saleem Shehzad and the foreigners in Kharotabad demonstrate the fate that lies in wait.