Conscientious Objector

The New Year in Pakistan is fated to begin with cold dismay. Three years ago, just as the year began, Governor Salmaan Taseer was martyred. It was not one of the many murders that we suffer every day; it was in many ways, ‘the’ murder. It defined and foretold what lay ahead. The fear and weakness; both of oneself and everybody around was unavoidable, and perhaps will remain so for many, many years to come. Condemnation of a broad daylight murder was hard to find. The terms of ‘Shaheed’ and ‘Ghazi’ were disfigured; the first one by omission in the context where it precisely applied, and the second by overuse. While the everyday fortitude to call the deceased Salmaan Taseer by the title of ‘Shaheed’ was in short supply, the honorific title of ‘Ghazi’ for the assassin was thrown around. It seemed a very chilly month of January and some part of our collective conscience froze, maybe forever.

The murder of Shaheed Salmaan Taseer had all the elements which have historically defined such confrontations. It was ostensibly (which it really wasn’t) about blasphemy, a continuation of tradition beginning from the trial and execution of Socrates. It was also about Governor Taseer terming Ziaul Haq’s blasphemy law provision in the penal code and about those unable to make the distinction between the divine and the temporal, and willing to kill for their interpretations. However, above all, and most disturbingly for us, it was about surrender. The quaint notions of the mythical ‘silent majority’ along with other optimistic assumptions were put to rest, in peace perhaps. The spectrum ranged from Facebook statuses of urban middle-class youths cheering and glorifying Mumtaz Qadri to the thousands on the streets at Pro-Qadri rallies. If the rational were in majority, they were mute to the point of impotence and callousness, hence rendering their numbers irrelevant.

Qadri was garlanded by lawyers. A former chief justice of the Lahore High Court (then recently retired) offered to represent Qadri. The worst is that everybody got away with it. The Bar Association leadership did not make any serious attempt to disassociate (or disown) the rogue members. The ex-chief justice was not questioned by former judges and lawyers.

Governor Taseer’s death was a watershed moment. The disagreements with his politics became irrelevant. The conflict was reduced to its skeleton and ‘not picking a side’ was, in fact, very clearly picking a side. And nearly not enough picked the right side. Strategic retreat, exercising care was just people being afraid. The space for rational discourse was abandoned, and it has remained abandoned since.

Before YouTube was banned, newspapers censored themselves on Taseer and Qadri. Before Joseph Colony was attacked, Aasia Bibi’s only protector was killed in full public view. Before they killed Shahbaz Bhatti, they killed Salmaan Taseer. Before Syed Munawwar Hasan used the term ‘Shaheed’ for Hakeemullah Mehsud, we denied it to Governor Taseer. The lesson of the last three years is that appeasement only causes the situation to grow worse.

In a pessimistic, even fatalistic mood, one has the dreadful feeling, if heaven forbid all of this does in fact go to hell, one might if compelled to make the choice say that we were witnesses and remember the day the final nosedive started, the day when we gave up, the day Salmaan Taseer was murdered and we watched unmoved. The pessimistic moment passes quickly as it should; however, we have to brace ourselves for a fight, if not for the sake of honouring his memory, then at least, for our own survival.

To know what fear can do, reflect on Aasia Bibi spending her third Christmas in captivity since Governor Taseer’s death. If some public figure has sent her greetings or uttered anything meaningful regarding her case, they must have done it secretly; one must not get hopes too high though.

Mr Taseer did not have to die. He chose to die. He gained nothing personally from defending Aasia Bibi. He was just a very courageous man with principles, an unpardonable sin. He died for a cause. His cause was Aasia Bibi, it was also the blasphemy law and by extension, all those persecuted under discriminating provisions. He is dead, Aasia Bibi remains in prison, there is no debate on blasphemy laws, and the categories of those considered infidel and hence persecuted increasing. The real tragedy might not be his assassination because martyrdom is also glorious, but that his ultimate sacrifice was in vain. There might still be time, not a lot though. There is no incentive for taking a stand, for sticking your neck out for a worthy cause. Those willing to die for principle, ask for a small return, that their memory is honoured, that their death results in embracement of their principles. We right now, are too scared, too weak, and too bigoted to reciprocate even in that small measure. That will have to change.

In this context, one is reminded time and again of words from Edna Saint Vincent Millay’s beautiful poem, “Conscientious Objector”.“I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death. I hear him leading his horse out of the stall; I hear the clatter on the barn-floor … But I will not hold the bridle while he clinches the girth.  And he may mount by himself: I will not give him a leg up.” Governor Taseer was aware of the possibility of death, but stood his ground, while we today hold the bridle.

More difficult recollection is words in which Salmaan Taseer might be addressing to us from the hereafter, in the words of his father, Muhammad Din Taseer, “Meri wafayen yaad karoge, Ro ge fariyad karo ge, Mujhko to barbad kiya he, Ab or kise barbad karo ge … Chohro bhee ‘Taseer’ ki batien, kab tak us ko yaad karoge.”

Rest in Peace Governor, and here is to hoping for a better, saner year for the rest of us.

Published in The Express Tribune, January 6^th, 2014.

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