Never forget
We have heard much of accountability from the Prime Minister, but only of the white-collar kind
The writer is a lawyer based in Lahore and also teaches at the Lahore University of Management Sciences. He holds an LL M from New York University where he was a Hauser Global Scholar. He tweets @HNiaziii
They say time heals all wounds, but for the parents who lost their children in the 2014 attack on the Army Public School in Peshawar such banal words are of little comfort. ‘Our grief is eternal,’ said Altaf Hussain who lost his young daughter that day. For the parents of APS, empty words cannot soothe the soul.
Nor can token remembrance. The kind that inundates social media during this time of the year. As inevitable as the Lahore smog, social media pictures go black and status updates are posted beseeching us to never forget. A few days later Pakistan moves on; APS and its 144 precious childhoods tucked away in the shadows until next year. However, if we lived in a country where it was harder to avoid confronting our demons, APS would haunt every waking hour of our nation’s conscience. It would cause every political leader to look behind their shoulder and feel a cold dread, reminding them of the consequences of turning a blind eye to the baying hounds of terrorism. It would be a moment taught and reflected upon in every school across the country — a reminder of 144 lives lost to the horrors that extremism has wrought on this country. It would be a mantra repeated as the nation wept: 144 lives. One day.
The Prime Minister on Sunday, in measured cadence, spoke of how the nation was united against a common enemy. Yes, unity against terrorism hit its peak four years ago, but unity on accountability seems to have not been so forthcoming.
We have heard much of accountability from the Prime Minister, but only of the white-collar kind. What about accountability for those whose negligence allowed 144 lives to be lost in the first place? Just how did the nine gunmen acquire uniforms of the Frontier Corps so easily? How, after the attack on Malala, did we sit back and let ourselves think they wouldn’t come for our children again? Four years later, the parents of APS are still searching for answers, the way things are going they might have better luck searching for the Holy Grail. Because contrary to the accountability drive that is taking place at a furious pace against the members of the opposition, accountability against those in government who allowed APS to happen is trailing at a pace that even snails would deem sluggish. It shouldn’t have taken four years for a judicial commission to materialise. It is perhaps this borderline criminal apathy that haunts the parents of APS the most. Mr Prime Minister they deserve better.
Of course, it cannot be said that the actual perpetrators of APS haven’t been held accountable. Terrorism-related violence has decreased in Pakistan ever since APS, but while we have punished the TTP and its ilk, we have neglected to do some introspection. It was a flawed system that allowed nine men to walk into a school and kill indiscriminately. I ask only that those who fostered that system also be held accountable.
The aftermath of APS gave us NAP and an avalanche of constitutional amendments intended to help in its implementation. Sadly, the sacrifice NAP asked of us was basic liberties. Fair trials were rendered superfluous. The constitution was amended to give us military courts, with a promise that it was a temporary measure until we got our regular courts in good shape. Four years later, nothing has been done to make our ordinary courts more conducive for the trial of convicted terrorists. Nawaz Sharif and Co seemed to have handed the reins over to the military and said: ‘Your headache.’ Unfortunately, this is a migraine that needs to be confronted not just by the military, but by parliament and the judiciary as well. Without mechanisms for the protection of witnesses, law enforcers, judges and investigators our courts will never be equipped to deal with the trial of those accused of terrorism. With the resurrection of capital punishment, this means that we will always have to live with the doubt of whether all those we are executing were truly guilty of the crimes they were accused of.
NAP was also supposed to allow us to finally get around to reforming Pakistan’s madrassahs. So far this is something that is only spoken about, but hardly ever acted upon. Despite legislation existing, there is no word of implementation. Unchecked and unregulated, madrassahs continue to produce hatred and bigotry amongst its students (not to mention torture on students). Components that NAP was supposed to keep in check.
Neither have we given serious thought to choking terror financing. While an amended Anti-Money Laundering Act 2010 and a National Terrorism Financing Investigation Cell were welcome steps, without proper implementation this seems more akin to ticking boxes rather than actual sustainable reform. The international community certainly seems to think along these lines, bestowing us with a rather unenviable position in the FATF list.
As talk of a new NAP begins, I wonder if we will ever get over promulgating new instruments of law and policy when the problem is clearly our inability to take effective action. Shiny new policies are no cure for national apathy. After four years, there are so many points regarding NAP that have never been implemented fully. Rather than get to the root cause of why this is so, we are barrelling towards a new NAP.
The only thing that perhaps needs to be said four years after APS is that those who lost their lives and those who survived deserve better, much better, from us. Four years later, the parents of APS search for accountability and closure; four years later our criminal justice system remains as broken as ever; four years later madrassah reforms remains an elusive dream; four years later NAP remains unimplemented in key aspects. The part we, as citizens of this country, can play is to make sure the government never forget its failure — that is the minimum we owe the children of APS.
Published in The Express Tribune, December 18th, 2018.
Nor can token remembrance. The kind that inundates social media during this time of the year. As inevitable as the Lahore smog, social media pictures go black and status updates are posted beseeching us to never forget. A few days later Pakistan moves on; APS and its 144 precious childhoods tucked away in the shadows until next year. However, if we lived in a country where it was harder to avoid confronting our demons, APS would haunt every waking hour of our nation’s conscience. It would cause every political leader to look behind their shoulder and feel a cold dread, reminding them of the consequences of turning a blind eye to the baying hounds of terrorism. It would be a moment taught and reflected upon in every school across the country — a reminder of 144 lives lost to the horrors that extremism has wrought on this country. It would be a mantra repeated as the nation wept: 144 lives. One day.
The Prime Minister on Sunday, in measured cadence, spoke of how the nation was united against a common enemy. Yes, unity against terrorism hit its peak four years ago, but unity on accountability seems to have not been so forthcoming.
We have heard much of accountability from the Prime Minister, but only of the white-collar kind. What about accountability for those whose negligence allowed 144 lives to be lost in the first place? Just how did the nine gunmen acquire uniforms of the Frontier Corps so easily? How, after the attack on Malala, did we sit back and let ourselves think they wouldn’t come for our children again? Four years later, the parents of APS are still searching for answers, the way things are going they might have better luck searching for the Holy Grail. Because contrary to the accountability drive that is taking place at a furious pace against the members of the opposition, accountability against those in government who allowed APS to happen is trailing at a pace that even snails would deem sluggish. It shouldn’t have taken four years for a judicial commission to materialise. It is perhaps this borderline criminal apathy that haunts the parents of APS the most. Mr Prime Minister they deserve better.
Of course, it cannot be said that the actual perpetrators of APS haven’t been held accountable. Terrorism-related violence has decreased in Pakistan ever since APS, but while we have punished the TTP and its ilk, we have neglected to do some introspection. It was a flawed system that allowed nine men to walk into a school and kill indiscriminately. I ask only that those who fostered that system also be held accountable.
The aftermath of APS gave us NAP and an avalanche of constitutional amendments intended to help in its implementation. Sadly, the sacrifice NAP asked of us was basic liberties. Fair trials were rendered superfluous. The constitution was amended to give us military courts, with a promise that it was a temporary measure until we got our regular courts in good shape. Four years later, nothing has been done to make our ordinary courts more conducive for the trial of convicted terrorists. Nawaz Sharif and Co seemed to have handed the reins over to the military and said: ‘Your headache.’ Unfortunately, this is a migraine that needs to be confronted not just by the military, but by parliament and the judiciary as well. Without mechanisms for the protection of witnesses, law enforcers, judges and investigators our courts will never be equipped to deal with the trial of those accused of terrorism. With the resurrection of capital punishment, this means that we will always have to live with the doubt of whether all those we are executing were truly guilty of the crimes they were accused of.
NAP was also supposed to allow us to finally get around to reforming Pakistan’s madrassahs. So far this is something that is only spoken about, but hardly ever acted upon. Despite legislation existing, there is no word of implementation. Unchecked and unregulated, madrassahs continue to produce hatred and bigotry amongst its students (not to mention torture on students). Components that NAP was supposed to keep in check.
Neither have we given serious thought to choking terror financing. While an amended Anti-Money Laundering Act 2010 and a National Terrorism Financing Investigation Cell were welcome steps, without proper implementation this seems more akin to ticking boxes rather than actual sustainable reform. The international community certainly seems to think along these lines, bestowing us with a rather unenviable position in the FATF list.
As talk of a new NAP begins, I wonder if we will ever get over promulgating new instruments of law and policy when the problem is clearly our inability to take effective action. Shiny new policies are no cure for national apathy. After four years, there are so many points regarding NAP that have never been implemented fully. Rather than get to the root cause of why this is so, we are barrelling towards a new NAP.
The only thing that perhaps needs to be said four years after APS is that those who lost their lives and those who survived deserve better, much better, from us. Four years later, the parents of APS search for accountability and closure; four years later our criminal justice system remains as broken as ever; four years later madrassah reforms remains an elusive dream; four years later NAP remains unimplemented in key aspects. The part we, as citizens of this country, can play is to make sure the government never forget its failure — that is the minimum we owe the children of APS.
Published in The Express Tribune, December 18th, 2018.