Will Pakistan ever be safe for its Shia community?

When asked if Shias should have their own mosques, majority of respondents refused to engage or provide any responses

Sadness and terror once again gripped the city that has become too used to the sounds of brutality. After a relatively peaceful couple of years, when everyone hoped, with bated breaths, that things were getting better, the streets of Peshawar were once again marred by the blood and ashes of innocents. As reports poured in of casualty after casualty, social media was filled with images of WhatsApp conversations that showed family members being informed of the deaths of their loved ones, one after the other. Some families lost several members all in the span of a Friday prayer.

Unfortunately, these images and this heartache is not new, neither to the inhabitants of this city, nor the larger country. Whenever something like this happens, the powers that be are always quick to point out the ‘invisible’ hand that seeks to destabilise the fragile security situation in the country. However, every time we placate ourselves with these stories (for they are stories unless hard, conclusive evidence is found against these claims), we choose to forego the most important lesson that these events continue to teach us.

The mosque and the people targeted were not random Pakistani worshippers. They belonged to the Shia community and they have had atrocities committed against them for decades. A lot of Pakistanis continue to be openly intolerant against Shias in the country and there is still active support for groups that specifically target their communities. They are one of the largest persecuted minority groups in Pakistan with scores losing their lives only because of the faith they choose to follow.

During my doctoral studies, a part of my research sought to understand young peoples’ perceptions about religion and religious minorities. The research was conducted in Punjab, across varied socio-economic classes, with young people going to public, private and donor-funded educational institutions. There was an overarching understanding among these young people that Pakistan is an Islamic state which meant that ‘everyone’ that lived in Pakistan was Muslim. When asked what it meant to be a Pakistani, almost all of the respondents answered it meant that they were Muslims and lived by the teachings of Islam.

There was an innate sense that the entire country is Muslim and belonged only to the Muslims. When probed about the minorities living in Pakistan and how they were also Pakistani, there was a unanimous air of confusion, followed by an acknowledgement when they realised the deeper meaning of what they had previously said. Reassuringly, once they realised the omission, most respondents believed that the country belonged equally to the minorities and they were as much a part of Pakistan as anyone else.

When asked about specific minorities (for example: “should Shias be allowed to have their own mosques?”, “should they be allowed to publicly hold sermons and demonstrations?”) there was a large majority of respondents who refused to engage or provide any responses. Quite interestingly, all the statements pertaining to general ideas about religion and minorities (for example: “all religions should be treated equally”, “everyone should have freedom to follow their religious practices peacefully” etc.) had a resounding majority that agreed with the assertions. The silence on specific statements relating to Shias is then very telling.

As with a lot of other things in Pakistan, if we are to ever hope to see an end to sectarian differences and violence, a large part of the solution requires us being honest and open about our own entrenched beliefs against specific groups and religious minorities. In an environment of hostility against open discussion on any aspect of religion, this introspection is a far cry but something that needs to be understood and accepted.

A start could be using our educational institutions as safe spaces to have conversations surrounding all religions and religious practices, critically looking at the way religion has been used as a political pawn in the history of our country and allowing our young people to have a wider understanding of the social and political environment in which they live in. This may not solve all our problems at once, as sectarian violence has an entrenched and a deeply political, violent history, but it can be a start to bringing religion and religious conversations out of the box of ‘untouchable’ topics and into the realm of critical thought and engagement.