Blasphemy laws and the birth of mob vigilantism
Priyantha Kumara, a Sri Lankan national working in Sialkot, was lynched to death and his dead body was burned after he was accused of blasphemy. Months earlier, a mob attacked a police station in Charsadda following the police’s refusal to hand over an alleged blasphemy suspect. The suspect was shifted to a safe location but the police station was burned down by the mob instead. In some cases of mob vigilantism, such as the lynching of Muneeb and Mughees Butt, the police simply choose not to intervene.
Broadly speaking, Pakistan’s state and citizens sit on both sides of the fence when it comes to the controversial blasphemy law. The increasing right-wing in the country supports severe implementation of these laws that have long been used to subjugate and control people belonging to the lower-strata of society, people from minority sects of Islam, and other religious minorities. They were initially introduced by the British colonial powers, and later incorporated into the Pakistan Penal Code, and then further shaped by the governments of Zulfikar Bhutto, and General Ziaul Haq to appease the Islamist forces.
Mob mentality and structural problems
As noted earlier, alleged blasphemy suspects are often killed without a second thought, thus meaning that chances of a fair and free trial are almost absent due to the threat posed to judges and the defendants. While our criminal justice system needs an overhaul across the board, blasphemy cases in particular are vulnerable to a miscarriage of justice due to the volatile and extremist public sentiments.
Recent cases include that of Junaid Hafeez, a foreign qualified university lecturer alleged to have committed blasphemy, who still awaits trial as he languishes in solitary confinement. The justice system is dragging its feet to provide Hafeez with a fair trial, especially after his defence lawyer was murdered by religious extremists. Similarly, Aasia Bibi, a Christian woman, was accused of blasphemy in 2009. However, in her case, she was finally and justifiably acquitted after 10 arduous years of unfair imprisonment. The very fact that such cases continue to drag on for years further curtails the timely dispensation of justice. Furthermore, as evidenced by Aasia’s case, even if the accused is acquitted, they can no longer continue to live in Pakistan due to the threat posed to their life.
What further limits the state’s ability to control such mob vigilantism is that Pakistan has a sprawling population and limited law enforcement resources. A policy paper from the Institute for Social Policy and Understanding found that Pakistan’s police force is poorly managed and lacks the equipment and training necessary to control law and order situations. Add to this some political interference, corruption and a disregard for human rights, and we get a police force that stands as a mere bystander, and sometimes even as a collaborator, of such crimes.
Post-colonial Pakistan
The laws and their implementation, or lack thereof, only scratch the surface of a deeper sociological problem prevalent in the country. These structural problems notwithstanding, Pakistan is still reeling from the aspects of post-colonialism which have long marred this land. The British colonisers left behind a classist society that still thrives on privilege. The more privileged you are, the more powerful you tend to become. This privilege can be gauged in terms of one’s financial status, gender, or even in the ability to belong to a majority group (this can be religious, ethnic, linguistic, etc.).
Viewed from this lens, most cases of mob vigilantism in Pakistan are a result of a hyper-masculine group becoming enraged by an alleged attack on their religious sentiments, deriving privilege from the power of their majority and gender. This combination of perceived superiority combined with rage has proved to have dangerous consequences for the citizens of Pakistan.
Having said this, it would be unfair if I only blame former colonies like Pakistan for being burdened by a post-colonial mentality. Even the western world derives its strength from a perceived superior class, race and gender. Post-colonial societies like Pakistan prefer to use short-term solutions to address indigenous problems. However, in this case, even the western world is guilty of racial and minority suppression by the privileged class.
Unfortunately, this piece of writing alone cannot possibly discuss the exhaustive list of reasons behind the mob vigilantism we experience in Pakistan, and I have only scratched the surface of the structural and sociological problems which fuel it. Nonetheless, this is a much-needed conversation since such incidents threaten the very existence of a peaceful and just society. Kumara’s wife has been promised that she will receive his monthly salary for the next 10 years, but such measures only serve as a temporary bandaid for a recurring problem that seems to be becoming increasingly pervasive. More importantly, these social and structural problems surrounding mob vigilantism and blasphemy laws will have to be worked on in unison since Pakistan needs an intersectional solution based on the country’s specific indigenous circumstances.