The Anti-National Action Plan
We seek to counter Anti-National Action Plan with bureaucratic memorandums and doublespeak.
The writer is a Lahore-based lawyer. The views expressed by the author are his own saroop.ijaz@tribune.com.pk
The honeymoon with the new-found and misplaced sense of security was brief; it was predicated upon the flimsy assumption that enough outrage and ‘resolve’ will prevent murder. It didn’t in Shikarpur for over 57 people, including children, who went to offer Friday prayers. The statement claiming responsibility for the murderous attack on the mosque reads, “They (Shia) are our enemy.” That’s it, no 20 points, no semantic acrobatics or fancy reasoning. Simple, concise, clear and deadly; that is the Anti-National Action Plan. We seek to counter it with bureaucratic memorandums and doublespeak.
Military courts and executions will make this all go away. Sure, what about Mumtaz Qadri then? He is not in a hideout in the mountains, he did not commit his crime with a veiled face and he is in custody. Who will try him? Is he part of the National Action Plan? There is no getting out of this on technicalities; if there is a definition of the adversary, Mumtaz Qadri is the poster boy. His file has “mysteriously” disappeared from the record and the government cannot find a prosecutor willing to argue his case. Is Mumtaz Qadri more powerful than the government? That is not a serious question; of course, he is. The second question that comes to mind is far more serious and graver. Is Mumtaz Qadri too big even for the “State”? If the answer is in the affirmative or even in layers, then is it merely a question of unwillingness or is it incapacity? We know all too well that unwillingness contributes to the loss of capacity, sometimes up to the point where the distinction between the two completely erodes. A National Action Plan that cannot hold Mumtaz Qadri accountable stands no chance of preventing APS, Peshawar or Shikarpur. Daylight murder was committed in full public view, gloating confession made, religious reason given; this is the modus operandi in APS, Shikarpur and Governor Taseer’s assassination.
Maulana Aziz spits in the face of the National Action Plan in Islamabad. No Protection of Pakistan Acts and military courts are needed; mere implementation of court orders is. Mumtaz Qadri and Maulana Aziz provide examples of this not only being a question of not having the right instruments to fight; it is also about having the nerve to use any instruments. If it is a battle of narrative, then without prosecution of Mumtaz Qadri and Maulana Aziz, we might as well don’t bother showing up to the battle.
The schoolteachers in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa were given weapons and training ostensibly to defend them and the children in the event of another attack. Fortunately, the decision has apparently been withdrawn. Multiple legitimate policy and rights concerns with this silly measure aside for the moment, what did it say about the existence of the State? Monopoly over violence was lost long, long ago when the assets were used to fight the blessed fight. Yet, even now, the attempt is not to regain the monopoly or at least substantial control over the use of force. The plan, it seemed with this measure, was to do the exact opposite, diffusing the stock of violence even further. By arming and training teachers the State is saying that ‘you are on your own’. Who will be the next group? Doctors, lawyers, mosque and church goers? Back to the Hobbesian world of war of all against all; specialised police and law-enforcement forces can be disbanded (sadly ironic since we cannot seem to disband much on the other side) since they are abdicating their core responsibilities. It is easier to give weapons to those who don’t have them than to disarm the already heavily armed. Mumtaz Qadri had a weapon and he used it; now he has a bigger and deadlier weapon and many willing to use it on his behalf.
Counter-terrorism strategies and plans presume a State robust enough to implement them. The substance of high-minded recommendations does not matter if the State cannot convict a self-confessed murderer in the Capital. The distinction drawn between ‘ordinary law and order’ and ‘our existential battle’ are often exaggerated and in the cases mentioned above are plainly dishonest. A government and a State can apply the law, prosecute and hold people accountable, or it can’t. That is the National Action Plan. If hate-preaching loudspeakers are to be regulated, then it starts with Lal Masjid in Islamabad. If the government is not strong enough to do this, it shouldn’t expect the mosque down the street to take it seriously. If the government cannot produce from its ranks a prosecutor in the Salmaan Taseer case, military courts count for little.
Those praying in Shikarpur are dead. Yet, the justification given for their murder is given by ‘respectable’ and ‘mainstream’ people every day. If all those in the imambargah in Shikarpur had weapons, would that have saved them? No, it would not. The adversary is armed with a more explosive weapon and is willing to kill and be killed far, far more easily than any regular namazi can be. The State has to prevent him from getting to the classroom or the mosque. Not every attack is preventable; yet whoever does not condone the murders can be restrained and held accountable. Is Malik Ishaq more powerful than the Punjab government? Yes, he is; to pretend otherwise is deceitful. Is Hafiz Saeed more formidable than the federal government? Yes.
Beneath all the elevated ‘resolve’, the question has come down to the most basic tool of running a country: a functioning government and State. Willingness and capacity are not a binary choice; the government lacks the capacity (hence its willingness or not is irrelevant) and the State might be partially unwilling. The murderer of Shikarpur is dead; his handlers and patrons live on. The murderer of Salmaan Taseer is in custody; Maulana Aziz is in Islamabad and bringing the government and the State to its knees. There is no National Action Plan without simply applying the rule of law and starting with Mumtaz Qadri and Maulana Aziz. Remember, the Anti-National Action Plan is simply, “They (insert the murdered group of the day) are our enemy.”
Published in The Express Tribune, February 1st, 2015.
Military courts and executions will make this all go away. Sure, what about Mumtaz Qadri then? He is not in a hideout in the mountains, he did not commit his crime with a veiled face and he is in custody. Who will try him? Is he part of the National Action Plan? There is no getting out of this on technicalities; if there is a definition of the adversary, Mumtaz Qadri is the poster boy. His file has “mysteriously” disappeared from the record and the government cannot find a prosecutor willing to argue his case. Is Mumtaz Qadri more powerful than the government? That is not a serious question; of course, he is. The second question that comes to mind is far more serious and graver. Is Mumtaz Qadri too big even for the “State”? If the answer is in the affirmative or even in layers, then is it merely a question of unwillingness or is it incapacity? We know all too well that unwillingness contributes to the loss of capacity, sometimes up to the point where the distinction between the two completely erodes. A National Action Plan that cannot hold Mumtaz Qadri accountable stands no chance of preventing APS, Peshawar or Shikarpur. Daylight murder was committed in full public view, gloating confession made, religious reason given; this is the modus operandi in APS, Shikarpur and Governor Taseer’s assassination.
Maulana Aziz spits in the face of the National Action Plan in Islamabad. No Protection of Pakistan Acts and military courts are needed; mere implementation of court orders is. Mumtaz Qadri and Maulana Aziz provide examples of this not only being a question of not having the right instruments to fight; it is also about having the nerve to use any instruments. If it is a battle of narrative, then without prosecution of Mumtaz Qadri and Maulana Aziz, we might as well don’t bother showing up to the battle.
The schoolteachers in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa were given weapons and training ostensibly to defend them and the children in the event of another attack. Fortunately, the decision has apparently been withdrawn. Multiple legitimate policy and rights concerns with this silly measure aside for the moment, what did it say about the existence of the State? Monopoly over violence was lost long, long ago when the assets were used to fight the blessed fight. Yet, even now, the attempt is not to regain the monopoly or at least substantial control over the use of force. The plan, it seemed with this measure, was to do the exact opposite, diffusing the stock of violence even further. By arming and training teachers the State is saying that ‘you are on your own’. Who will be the next group? Doctors, lawyers, mosque and church goers? Back to the Hobbesian world of war of all against all; specialised police and law-enforcement forces can be disbanded (sadly ironic since we cannot seem to disband much on the other side) since they are abdicating their core responsibilities. It is easier to give weapons to those who don’t have them than to disarm the already heavily armed. Mumtaz Qadri had a weapon and he used it; now he has a bigger and deadlier weapon and many willing to use it on his behalf.
Counter-terrorism strategies and plans presume a State robust enough to implement them. The substance of high-minded recommendations does not matter if the State cannot convict a self-confessed murderer in the Capital. The distinction drawn between ‘ordinary law and order’ and ‘our existential battle’ are often exaggerated and in the cases mentioned above are plainly dishonest. A government and a State can apply the law, prosecute and hold people accountable, or it can’t. That is the National Action Plan. If hate-preaching loudspeakers are to be regulated, then it starts with Lal Masjid in Islamabad. If the government is not strong enough to do this, it shouldn’t expect the mosque down the street to take it seriously. If the government cannot produce from its ranks a prosecutor in the Salmaan Taseer case, military courts count for little.
Those praying in Shikarpur are dead. Yet, the justification given for their murder is given by ‘respectable’ and ‘mainstream’ people every day. If all those in the imambargah in Shikarpur had weapons, would that have saved them? No, it would not. The adversary is armed with a more explosive weapon and is willing to kill and be killed far, far more easily than any regular namazi can be. The State has to prevent him from getting to the classroom or the mosque. Not every attack is preventable; yet whoever does not condone the murders can be restrained and held accountable. Is Malik Ishaq more powerful than the Punjab government? Yes, he is; to pretend otherwise is deceitful. Is Hafiz Saeed more formidable than the federal government? Yes.
Beneath all the elevated ‘resolve’, the question has come down to the most basic tool of running a country: a functioning government and State. Willingness and capacity are not a binary choice; the government lacks the capacity (hence its willingness or not is irrelevant) and the State might be partially unwilling. The murderer of Shikarpur is dead; his handlers and patrons live on. The murderer of Salmaan Taseer is in custody; Maulana Aziz is in Islamabad and bringing the government and the State to its knees. There is no National Action Plan without simply applying the rule of law and starting with Mumtaz Qadri and Maulana Aziz. Remember, the Anti-National Action Plan is simply, “They (insert the murdered group of the day) are our enemy.”
Published in The Express Tribune, February 1st, 2015.