Discriminating between the dead?

After the recent attack on the Christian community in Peshawar, an imam of a local mosque in Lahore was invited to a vigil for prayers. Although the imam condemned the massacre, he chose to decline the invitation. Expressing his frustration over the ‘double standards’ of the vigil organisers, he inquired as to why no vigils have ever been arranged for scores of innocent drone attack victims. Last year, this imam had attended a vigil held for Malala and offered prayers, but this time, he was firm in not accepting the invitation and refused to side with what he considered to be hypocrisy. How could one pray for non-Muslims (only) when Muslims also remain the target of atrocities in Pakistan? How could one discriminate between the dead?

Like the respected imam, several other individuals have been sharing similar concerns and frustrations. Criticisms like the one put forth by the imam are commonly voiced these days: 'Why aren’t you standing up for ordinary Muslims who are dying in bomb blasts every day? Why do you remain silent for children killed and harmed by drone strikes when you scream for Malala? Nobody cares about Muslims; all you care about is minorities!’ And so on.

To be fair, a part of this kind of criticism does hold some weight. Let us accept that many of us are prejudiced. While some extremists, if given the choice, would prefer a Pakistan without Shias and Ahmadis, some ‘liberals’ also wish to carpet-bomb North Waziristan to get rid of the ‘fanatics’. Each camp uses certain caricatures of the other to breed hatred, so that it becomes easier to justify the worth of one human life over another. Such a prejudiced approach makes these people guilty of discriminating between the dead. And this necessitates valid criticism.

However, some of this criticism is equally baseless. Most people do not discriminate between the dead and are evenly frustrated by all tragedies, regardless of the victims' identities. Many of them express their outrage in different ways and in different forums. But more often than not, the respected imam and other religious individuals turn a deaf ear to these voices due to their own biases, which stem from a certain sense of perceived insecurity — an under siege mentality — that the world is conspiring against Islam. This mindset entails a false impression. These individuals often see what they want to see: that all atrocities are attacks on Islam (drone attacks kill Muslims), and that there isn’t enough condemnation from all sides, especially from the ‘liberals’. While others may view drone strikes, for instance, as strategic warfare of an imperial power breaching Pakistan’s sovereignty and international law — that is, in completely non-religious terms, the imam and some other individuals choose to see the same drone strikes as an attack on Islam itself through the coloured lenses of 'Islam under siege'. Consequently, it becomes difficult for them to appreciate protests, campaigns and legal courses that are being pursued by some Pakistanis within the framework of diplomacy, human rights and international law, rather than within a religious framework.

Having said that, there is still a bit of truth in the aforementioned criticism: sometimes there isn’t sufficient condemnation of atrocities where the victims are ‘ordinary Muslims’, especially on social media. Perhaps, there is a simple and reasonable explanation for that: the shock effect. The persistent episode of bloodletting in the country has desensitised most of us to the point of imperviousness, and sometimes, plain oversight. If people start protesting every tragedy that transpires in Pakistan, then they would hardly be able to do much else. Currently in this country, only something that appears uncommon and outrageous enough to the otherwise benumbed perceptibility of the public moves it to express resentment. Salmaan Taseer’s murder, Dr Aafia Siddiqui’s court case and sentencing, Malala’s shooting, and the recent church attack in Peshawar are examples of this shock effect, where the selective outrage is perhaps, a result of numbness and exhaustion.

There could be other possible responses to these criticisms as well. Granting all this, one should not discriminate between the dead after all. Killing one human being is akin to killing all humanity — saving one life is saving the entire humankind. This is the Quranic principle, which affirms my view on the equality of each innocent victim and each innocent dead, regardless of their religious or other affiliations.

Yet, I discriminate. Not between the dead but between the tragedy. I discriminate one from another on the basis of its nature and its overall consequences for Islam and Pakistani society. I discriminate on the basis of perpetrators and their motives. Therefore, as a Pakistani Muslim, there are some atrocities which grieve me more than others. A crime committed in the name of religion is far more disturbing for me than a crime which is not. Let me explain.

Drone strikes and similar crimes are carried out by an external entity for non-religious reasons. The victims are Muslims, but this does not make it a ‘religious’ crime or a crime against Islam. It is important to understand this distinction. If one is outraged simply because the victim is a Muslim and is unable to see the crime in terms of the perpetrators and their motivation, and in terms of the consequences of the crime, then one is guilty of discriminating between the dead on the basis of their identities.

When innocent Sunnis, Shias, Ahmadis and Christians, or anyone else for that matter, are victimised by self-righteous Muslims in the name of religion (or as collateral damage in the larger clash of civilisations), this threatens the ‘moral integrity’ of the Islamic religious tradition. That the motivations of many perpetrators are religious, or at least there is a purported religious support for those crimes — the TTP has recently justified the church attack in Peshawar in the name of ‘Sharia’ — is a fact that I, as all religious individuals and scholars should, find deeply disturbing. It is a responsibility upon those of us, including the respected imam, who have a deep engagement with Islam to preserve its moral integrity against such abuse, which poses a serious internal threat. When violence is used and justified through Islam against fellow Muslims or minorities, it damages the social fabric to no end; perpetuating divisions, mistrust and hatred within society. These internal consequences are far more dangerous and troubling when compared with consequences of directing a response at an outside entity.

Islam is not threatened by drones. It is threatened by those self-righteous or purported Muslims who are committing atrocities in its name and by those Muslim scholars who do not condemn these acts without conditions. In fact, it is their Islamic duty to do so. I have grieved for the victims of drone attacks and I have grieved for the ill-treatment of Dr Aafia Siddiqui, but I grieve more for the religious minorities killed and victimised in the name of Islam, because in this case, they are not the only victims; Islam is a victim too.

Published in The Express Tribune, October 12^th, 2013.

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