Showkat Ali, Tayyaba Jiwani and Arsalan Samdani

“More than a thousand Hazaras have been killed in the

recent past, and this year we lost 250 members in two

bomb attacks. They are forced to escape on boats to

countries like Australia. But these boats are dangerous

on the open ocean and are often packed over capacity,”

laments Abdul Khaliq Hazara, Secretary General of the

Hazara Democratic Party, in the following interview.

Q. Could these attacks have been prevented?

A. The Pakistani state has done little to protect the

Hazaras. As I said, some state institutions are involved in

supporting the organizations that carry out these attacks.

There are individuals within the police and FC (Frontier

Corps) who still sympathize with extremist groups.

FC personnel were present at checkpoints when over

1,000-kg of explosives were transported into Quetta’s

neighbourhoods for the January, 2013 bomb attacks. The

FC was given police powers in Balochistan after these

attacks but still another attack occured the following

month. Meanwhile, nobody involved in these attacks

has been punished. Protecting the Hazara community

and improving the worsening security situation in

Balochistan is not a priority for the Pakistani state. I have

met high-level government officials, including President

Zardari, and I conveyed to them that the safety of the

Hazara community did not seem to be a priority for them.

Q. Has the Hazara community mobilized

after these attacks to protect itself?

A. We believe that a community should only take

up arms in situations of anarchy, in the absence of

government and political infrastructure. Fortunately,

Pakistan still has a government with a mandate

to protect its people. There is no civil war in this

country. Therefore, we have always urged the Hazara

community to remain peaceful and pursue democratic

means to express themselves and obtain their

rights. Democracy is the only option available to us.

Q. The attacks this year and the ensuing Hazara protests

generated sympathy and support worldwide. Large

protests and sit-ins were conducted across Pakistan

and major global cities in solidarity with the Hazaras.

Do you have a message for these people and can you

suggest a few ways they could further help your cause?

A. We deeply thank all those who expressed their

solidarity. Collectively, we need to promote respect,

as well as religious and ethnic tolerance across

Pakistan. Finally, we need to show solidarity not just

with the Hazara, but oppressed people everywhere.

* Full interview is available on the PDF website.

Roots of Sectarian Violence:Interview with Abdul Khaliq Hazara

Dear Readers, Welcome to the inaugural issue of Soch Magazine, Pakistan Development Fund’s flagship publication. Soch aligns with PDF’s mandate to support Pakistan’s marginalized communities in a campaign for progressive change and sustainable community development. In addition, Soch seeks to highlight the tremendous challenges facing the Pakistani diaspora globally. This issue focuses on the marginalization of Pakistan’s ethnic and religious minorities, as well as the challenges they face when forced to immigrate to countries like Canada, ultimately aligning with PDF’s recent campaigns against religious and sectarian violence. Though we may not have been able to do justice to this complex issue, we hope that our perspective is successful in generating constructive debates, while highlighting the political and economic underpinnings of religious intolerance in Pakistan. We look forward to receiving your feedback at soch@pakistandevelopment.org.

In solidarity,

Soch Editorial Board

In this issue / letter from the editors

Pakistan Development Fund • Soch Magazine • Fall 2013 • Volume I Issue I

N o a m a n A l i

The discourse of “shame”, “disgust”, and

“madness” is problematic when talking about

so-called mob violence incidents like the one at

Badami Bagh. I am not saying people don’t and

shouldn’t have visceral reactions to these events.

The deeper question is what space of moral

superiority are we situated in from which to make

these claims. On what basis are we articulating a

moral superiority? Yes, we do not consider ourselves

to be religious extremists, and we would (probably)

not go destroying other peoples’ livelihoods and

property. But as a set of people belonging to a

frankly over-consuming, decadent class, should

we feel no shame or disgust at our own existence?

What differentiates us from the mob is

that the expropriation we engage in is performed in

civilized ways – we use the pen. And of course, we

are not mad – our acts of dispossession and gluttony

are civilized rationality. But is our own positioning in

the system not as violent, if not more, on the whole,

than the worst of mobs. I am not moralizing, but we

should be careful when choosing how we express

our responses, and the moral framework in which

we are doing so. It is one that is creepily close to the

discourse of rationality vs. irrationality, civilization

vs. savagery, good vs. evil that underpins imperialist

and liberal narratives. We have to fight those too.

There is no reason to apologize for, or

excuse, the actions of militant mobs mobilized by

extremist madrassahs, or other forces. The need to

understand these phenomena does not undercut

the need to mobilize against them. But the

question is in what terms are they to be fought? We

cannot find in ourselves the capacity to organize

working-class defence leagues, and because we

middle-class types find ourselves restricted to

the pen, we try to find some intellectual basis for

their actions, and finding none that satisfy our

conditions of engagement, move on to declare

them irrational. We then turn to railing against

the state for not doing what it is supposed

to be doing – that is, protecting minorities.

We present it as an abdication of the

state’s duties, rather than as the function of the

state, of ruling class power and ideology, to pit

sections of the masses against each other, using any

available ideological raw material. Fascism is fascism

precisely because it mobilizes popular classes

into reactionary and anti-people stands. Extremist

madrassahs are a conscious strategy of sections of

imperialism, and the ruling classes, to assert their

control over society and destroy bases of social

solidarity amongst the people. But very

importantly, madrassahs serve as ideological

cover to preserve social and economic structures.

It’s hardly a secret that politicians, and the

military and bureaucratic elite, use their influences

in the state to advance their own business interests,

and that often criminal syndicates as well as

criminalized police forces are tied in with them. They

are also dependent upon imperialism to keep the

state running and their own pockets lined. No doubt,

the ways in which the fractions of this capitalist

class are organized and institutionalized leads to

considerable intra-class conflict, which radiates

from the very top, for control of the state apparatus.

What the ruling class has done with

Pakistan’s economy, given its own looting and the

structural imperatives of an underdeveloped, semi-

colonial, semi-feudal polity, is evident. Not least of

all is the development of an expansive informal

sector in which there are millions of underemployed

young men saddled with social expectations of

provision but no gainful outlets. There is plenty

of frustration, and the level of criminality has

increased to such incredible proportions that fear

feeds into frustration. We must not forget Marx’s

dictum that religious suffering is real suffering,

and religion is the sigh of the oppressed. Even

devolved of direct state control, leaders of various

religious groups mobilize to carve out spaces in this

informal economy and build links into networks

of bureaucratic capitalism. The links into criminal

networks no doubt develop from these urges.

It should thus be no surprise to see the

rhetoric offered by many of these Sunni Muslim

groups mirroring Hindutva and Nazi rhetoric of

blaming the Other – be it Shia or Ahmadi - of

grave disruption and control of the political,

social and cultural fabric of society. It should

also come as no surprise that these conspiracy

theories are lapped up by thousands of frustrated

people. It may well provide a sense of security,

belonging and power in frustrating times.

There is no need to resort to crass vulgar

materialism that locates the starting point of every

mob activity in some kind of property dispute.

Given the “floating populations” of the unemployed

and frustrated, and the well-organized networks of

semi-religious leaders and groups, there are enough

sparks for a fire. But it’s still remarkable how many

conflicts involving violence against minorities end

up having emerged from disputes over property

or finances. The reason they acquire the colour

they do is because of deeply entrenched structures

of caste and class discrimination, combined with

the explosive mix of fascist conspiracy ideologies.

This is why if not religion, some

other excuse or ideology will be found for

mass riots. Some years back, a mob lynched

two youths in Sialkot supposedly for a robbery.

Typical elitist commentary begins by blaming

the people and the masses for their lack of

education and awareness, or their savagery and

backwardness. Some elitist commentaries try

to force Islam or Islamization into the narrative.

But to blame this on religion (or

madness) is to ignore the many ways in

which violence is mobilized and employed in

Pakistan. It also ignores how many positive

and pro-people initiatives are grounded in

religion. Iqbal’s point should be well-taken:

The question that faces us is not

one of ascribing madness to religion, but of

assessing how religion is used and mobilized

by different social groups and classes.

Again, when it comes to practice, the

point is not that there should not be working-

class defence leagues to protect sections of

the masses from others who have taken up

reactionary ideologies. The shocktroops of fascism

have to be combated. But while organization,

mobilization and demonstrations are necessary,

it is also crucial to point out the relationship of

apparently irrational acts to the very rational and

solid structure of power. And to point out ways of

combating it through a national-popular project

that unites all popular democratic class forces.

In the meantime, feeding into and

repeating imperialist and liberal tropes of a savage

country, a disgusting country, a shameful people

given to religious madness, etc. just won’t do. The

question is to understand how those very same

imperialists and liberals are deeply implicated

in protecting the structure of a society in which

bureaucratic capitalists use fascists, mafias, and

other groups to maintain their looting of, and

hold over, a people who are more often than

not proud, cultured, beautiful and reasoned.

2 3Soch Magazine Volume I Issue I

Sana Ali The word Saraiki is used to describe the Indo-Aryan language spoken predominantly in southern Punjab, southern Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, northern Sindh and northeastern Balochistan. Its prevalence across such a wide expanse has led to the language acquiring a variety of local names and dialects. Despite recent attempts to create a separate identity, Saraiki is largely considered a dialect of Punjabi. Attempts to separate Saraiki-speaking populations from the Punjabi-speaking ones have their bases in the growing political conflict within the state of Punjab. The neglect of Southern Punjab by the national and provincial governments has become increasingly noticeable, encouraging the unification of many dialects under a common name and giving rise to calls for a separate Saraiki province. “Ethno-nationalism is generally a response to perceived injustice and economic disparity between the two groups is evident, according to Dr. Saiqa Imtiaz Asif, Professor in English at the Bahauddin Zakariya University in Multan. “In this case, the dispute involving language is not really about language, but instead about fundamental inequalities between groups who happen to speak different languages,” says Dr. Asif. In the 2009 budget allocation, it was disclosed that “out of the Rs 20 billion loan obtained from the World Bank by the Ministry of Communication to construct mega roads in the country, not a single project was launched in southern Punjab. Out of 18 projects, eight were started in central and northern Punjab.” Furthermore, it is believed that the Saraiki area generates more income than the amount it receives back in the form of government expenditures. Bahawalpur, for example is a major

producer of cotton and the income earned from its cotton production exceeds the returns made to the region, creating a sentiment among the residents that they are being economically exploited. Indeed, government data reveals that 43 percent of the population of South Punjab is living below the poverty line, compared to the 27.7 percent in Punjab. The call for a separate state for Saraiki speakers is centered on the rationale that Bahawalpur and the Saraiki belt are too far removed from the powerful Lahore, and thus far have failed to make an impact on the policies of the Punjab province. There are also claims that it is due to Saraiki under-representation among the policy-making clans that hold power in the province, that has led to southern rural areas of Punjab being deprived of socio-economic development. It is hoped that the inception of a separate province will solve these problems. The new state will be able to effect a separate budget for itself which should be substantially higher than the mere Rs. five billion that were allocated to the Saraiki belt out of the 490 billion allotted to the Punjab province between 2009 and 2010. It is clear that economic deprivation and inequality has given rise to political restlessness within Punjab. Apparently the argument for dividing Punjab is based on economic injustices, but the push for division has not gained so much traction. Though several parties have formed to fight for a separate Saraiki province, there is still a chance for the provincial and national governments to re-evaluate their policies toward Southern Punjab and direct more efforts towards its development. It is time to end the neglect of the rural Saraiki belt in favour of the more powerful urban areas. This has not only created unacceptably high levels of economic inequality but also a feeling of neglect and ‘other-ing’ which will come back to harm the nation in the long run.

Chair, Editorial Board

Tayyaba Jiwani

Content Editors

Muriam Salman

Urooj Shahzadi

Layout Editor

Vajiha Sipra

Translators

Mishail Imran

Hina Athar Khan

Mohammad Tahir

Tayyaba Jiwani

Copy Editors

Azfar Zaheer

Fatema Noorani

Salma Salman

Art & Photography

Hammad Khan

Vajiha Sipra

Sponsorship

For sponsorship requests,

please email finance@

pakistandevelopment.org.

* For inquiries and comments,

please email soch@

pakistandevelopment.org.

Disclaimer

The opinions expressed here

may not necessarily reflect

the official views or stances of

Pakistan Development Fund

Saraiki Nationalism On Blind Faith

Photo courtesy: Saraiki Magazine

Masthead

Photo courtesy: Reuters

4 Soch Magazine

Once each year we are fed, and proudly consume, looped footage of flag-waving, canon-blasting, and anthem-singing Pakistanis celebrating the formation of a homeland for the Muslims of South Asia. The excitement and fanaticism surrounding Pakistan’s Independence Day resembles that of a spectator sport. Moments of celebration such as these come once a year and are touching for many reasons. Admittedly, there is something energizing about the seeming harmony of people in a country fraught with ongoing tension. Amidst attacks from the Western media, drone strikes and the Taliban, moments of apparent nation-wide unity present a glimmer of hope. Invariably, discussions on independence lead to the seemingly rhetorical question of Pakistan’s identity. However, between the nation’s identity crisis and the ad nauseum public displays of

affection there is something missing in the public discourse. If freedom is at the heart of Pakistan’s independence celebrations, the question that ought to be asked is what the state owes to the very people who are indispensable to its functioning, yet are not free. Further, what is the role of the state in promoting the patriotic narratives, based on the idea of a homogenous Sunni Muslim identity, that allow for such oppression to continue?

Same Old Story

The justification of the national narrative was fraught from the beginning with the reluctance of the Baloch to join the newly independent state. The Baloch struggle for freedom is perhaps the longest running struggle in Pakistan, beginning prior to Pakistan’s inception. As a result of the ongoing occupation since March 27, 1948, the people

of Balochistan have suffered immensely. While 14,000 innocent Baloch have disappeared and 400 ruthlessly murdered, the Pakistani state chooses to celebrate its own freedom while deliberately and violently withholding that right from its own people. Generations of Baloch have lived through the state’s suppression of five insurgencies and more recently have been subjected to four years of kill-and-dump policies.

In addition to the senseless loss of life, there is a daily struggle faced by all those under state persecution. For the Baloch, these include regular house raids by armed state representatives, often followed by interrogation where attempts are made to implicate them in

Independence For Whom?Muriam Salman

5Volume I Issue I

criminal activities. While being closely monitored, many are subject to constant telephone and email threats including accusations of being a Kafir, paid agent of Israel, and anything seemingly anti-state.

“Before [during the Zia period], everything was done through

proceedings, people wouldn’t just disappear

like today” – Anwar Gabol

The need for a militant separatist movement in Balochistan is symptomatic of the deeper rot in the ideology of Pakistan. What is lacking from the national discourse is that history was not dictated by the needs of the collective, accountability is at the discretion of the powerful few, and the state narrative is repeatedly being used to suppress any dissent against continued persecution by the state. Further attempts to curb resistance against the state occurred throughout history in quick succession. Resistance from the Sindhis, and later the Bengalis, was actively and brutally repressed. In the early years of Pakistan’s independence, the closing of Sindh College, the passing of the Language Bill and the One Unit policy, and thereafter the violent clamp-down on the 1967 anti-Ayub movement were deliberate attempts to quash the spread of local culture in the project that was the creation of Pakistan’s identity. Perhaps the single largest historical example of the promotion of a state narrative was the senseless slaughter and rampant rape of hundreds of thousands of Bengalis (of East Pakistan) in their quest for freedom of expression, equal economic opportunity and language

rights in the 1971 war. While patriotism is hugely instrumental in the imposition of state ideologies as it provides legitimacy to the ruling classes, the additional dimension of the state representing a religion further provides divine sanction to the activities of the ruling elite. Of course, the casualties in this drive for power are all those communities and individuals who do not adhere

to the dominant state religion. T h r o u g h o u t history, this intertwining of national identity and religion has excluded non-Sunni Muslim religious groups from the homogenous Sunni Muslim Pakistani identity. In part, this has stemmed from amendments to the Blasphemy Law, a remnant of British colonial rule that sought to punish instances of defamation against all religions. The addition of two clauses – 295-B and 295-C – to this archaic law by General Zia ul Haq in 1986 made the law more specific to cases against Islam and negligent of the intent of the accused. Since then over 1,000 cases of blasphemy have been registered in the past 25 years and the law has been prone to misuse against Muslims and non-Muslims alike. As a sect of Islam that has been declared heretical by the state, through an elected parliament no less, members

of the Ahmadiyya Muslim community face a unique set of barriers and many have been subjected to attacks in their homes, mosques, shops and villages well before they were legally declared non-Muslims by Prime Minister Bhutto in 1974. At the peak of the anti-Ahmadi movement in 1973-4, direct attacks on households were most common. More recently, Ahmadis are forced to deal with strict infringements

on their personal lives and hide any indication that they follow Islam, such as reciting religious phrases or even referring to their places of worship as mosques. This is in addition to a constant threat of disclosing their faith as one quarter of all targeted religious violence in the past 18 months has been geared specifically towards the Ahmadi community. Similarly, the

isolation of the Christian community has stemmed largely from the hostility and discrimination faced over the years. Many families have faced significant barriers from being threatened with the Blasphemy Law.

Chapter Update:McMaster University

Danyal Ladha

This has been a highly successful year at PDF McMaster, as the organization continued to grow in membership, fundraising, and volunteers. The new executive team kicked off their first event in May, 2012: the Andaaz charity fashion show, raising over $4,000 for The Citizens Foundation with over 200 attendees. As the first semester rolled in, we hosted our second annual charity cricket tournament.

Attended by 16 teams across Ontario, this event managed to raise $2,400 for our collaboration on a project with the Association for Development of Pakistan (ADP) through which 20 water pumps were built for public schools in Kasur, Punjab. For the last event of the semester, the Mac team hosted ‘Kashmir: A Forgotten Crisis’.

The event was highly educational and stimulated an interesting discussion. To start off the second semester, PDF-Mac collaborated with the Pakistan Students Association to host a games night, Fungama, providing an inviting atmosphere for students to learn more about us and meet new people. In March, we also organized a Charity Bowl. These three events collectively raised about $500, which was put towards the Behbud Association of Pakistan to buy lab equipment for a maternity clinic.

“For us there is no such thing as a military rule and a civilian rule,

they are all the same” – Anwar Gabol

“And there were riots and there was killings and then the first time I heard the slogan…

Karachi ko benaingain muhajjiristan, Sindhion ko dalengain qabristan…So that

was my second politicization” – Fehmida Soomro

“We feel like second class citizens in our own country.

It’s hard to say that we’re Pakistani because we’re

deprived of so many opportunities.”

– Maryam Ahmed

“Nationalism, that magnificent song that made the people rise against their oppressors, stops short, falters and

dies away on the day that independence is proclaimed.” – Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth

A Brief History of ‘independence’ in Pakistan

One Christian by the name of Iqbal Masih recounts a time where a family member paid to have their refrigerator fixed, only to have it returned with a part missing. When he confronted the repairman and asked for a refund, he replied, “will you go, will you get off, otherwise I’m going to call people here and tell them you burned Quran pages right in front of me. And my brother never said anything because they knew that what’s been happening.”

Perhaps it is members of the Shia community who have the most to mourn after having suffered 89% of all deaths in the 203 acts of targeted violence against religious communities in Pakistan in the past 18 months. Shia Hazara business-owners in Quetta recount being forced to sell their assets to save the life of a kidnapped family member, only to later be handed over a corpse instead. Such economic deprivation and marginalization have left entire families without a source of income, without any recourse from the state or its various agencies. The passport office in Quetta itself has become a danger zone as Shias have been killed waiting in line, making the threat to life literally inescapable. The attacks have instilled terror in Shia communities where according to resident Zainab Zaidi, students are being kept from attending school and writing their exams due to trauma, fear of attack or kidnapping. Women face telephone threats, fear attending work or change the frequency or regularity of their day-to-day schedules. In addition to threats of acid attacks and having their families targeted, mobility is also limited as local taxis refuse to take customers who appear to them to be visibly Hazara or Shia. Most would agree that the senseless loss of life and degradation of any community is unjustifiable. Where the complications lie is in the accountability. Easily implicated are the US and other external forces. The problem is further reduced to poor law enforcement, Wahhabism and police accountability. While these are crucial and legitimate problems, with complex political and economic underpinnings that need to be addressed, state complicity in the propagation of their underlying causes cannot be discounted. The ease with which targeted killings and attacks are carried out in broad daylight and the virtual lack of response from government, establishment, and state officials reeks of complicity. In the case of the targeted attacks against the Shia community, the absence of state accountability of the Lashkar-e-Jhangvi and its leaders such as Ishaq Malik, is largely to blame. In the meantime, celebrations of independence and an idealized unified identity only promote a false illusion of freedom in a country where a significant proportion of the population lives under constant threat of persecution and without equal opportunity.

Indeed, independence is, and always was only for the privileged few.

Aftershock

The impending result is the exodus of many such minorities, or at least of those who can afford it, from the country. Of all the Canadian refugee claims filed in 2011, Pakistan was among the top five countries of origin. As one Baloch, Anwar Gabol explained, families migrate because they feel unsafe in their own home: “we would not go back. People who have families back there are under threat. There is a kind of danger that they might be hurt, even if they were not politically active”. Those who could afford to leave the country are driven away by the increasing hostility at both the Parliamentary and grassroots levels of the Baloch struggle against the domination of the Pakistani state. Cast off from their own country, many refugees find themselves again isolated and displaced as the ‘other’ in Canada. While in Pakistan religious and ethnic minorities are seen as an impediment to achieving a homogenous national identity, as migrants to Canada they are seen as undeserving of the same standard of living as Canadians. It is in these contexts and many others that patriotism is dangerous in its adaptation for political gain.

While a holistic understanding of the marginalization caused by ‘other-ing’ requires examination of other identities such as gender, sexual orientation, and class, examples of colonization and state-backed persecution of religious and ethnic groups are not limited to the communities profiled here. In order to reclaim the history of all people that have fallen victim to this nationalist ideology, there must be a sustained effort to break away from the history of the elite and to retake history for the underclasses. While the start of such change must be firmly rooted in these communities, the end to such colonization cannot come without the retraction of the hand of the state. The national narrative must be rewritten such that the oppressed retake their agency and are able to contribute to build this as their own. In the meantime, August 14th ought to be a day spent like any other: alongside those awaiting justice. As one Baloch community member recounted, “these people were not arrested because they stole a goat, all they are doing is fighting for their rights and freedoms.”

*All names have been changed to protect the privacy of those who kindly took the time to share their stories with us.

Chapter Update:University of

TorontoSt. George

Anam Ansari

We’ve had a busy year at PDF-

UT! Starting off early in June with

our BBQ Bash: Eat for Education

event, we successfully raised $220

in a couple of hours! Alongside

fundraising for charitable causes,

PDF-UT’s goal for the year was to

hold academic events to encourage

critical dialogue on campus.

Our first Discussion Forum

dissected the dynamics of

Pakistan’s historical relationship

with the United States and its

influence on national politics. After

the shooting on Malala Yousafzai,

we hosted Dr. Murtaza Haider to

speak at the talk, Malala Yousafzai:

Contextualized. Dr. Haider provided

a historical analysis of the rise

of religious fundamentalism in

Pakistan, and led an engaging

discussion on what the shooting

represents on a national and

international scale. Through this

event, we also raised over $400 for

the Behbud Association of Pakistan.

PDF-UT’s second semester started

off with a much-anticipated

Discussion Forum on human

rights abuses in Kashmir, where we

collected over $100 in donations.

We next screened the documentary,

Saving Face, leading to a discussion

on how citizens can fight for

women’s rights in Pakistan. Finally,

ending and celebrating an eventful

year, PDF-UT hosted a music and

games night, Jhoom Le, raising over

$700 for the Behbud Association.

With a lot of interest from

youngsters on campus, it was only

fitting to host our own elections

alongside Pakistan’s, handing over

PDF-UT to the new executive team.

6 7

What words did she utter in the falsa field?…when a drink from her hand was refusedwhat words did she utter in the falsa field?…when women snubbed her for her own faithwhat words did she utter in the falsa field?…when the pious ladies asked her to convertwhat words did she utter in the falsa field?…when the village asked her to confess

‘I uttered nothing,’ did she resist, ‘the Prophet is also mine.’

What words did she utter in the falsa field?…which made her face a trialwhat words did she utter in the falsa field?…that the judge convicted herwhat words did she utter in the falsa field?…that the people wanted to take her lifewhat words did she utter in the falsa field?…that ten million voices arose

‘I said no words, no words were mine,’ she said, ‘those words were not mine’

Who said those words, that she had saidwhat made those words a crime?

‘Don’t ask,’ she said, ‘I say nothing. The words I couldn’t have said.’

Her words were a crimeshe could not say them.her words were a crimeno one could repeat them.

Her words were a crime… so did no one repeat them?Her words did blaspheme…tell me who repeated them?

The accuser repeated themnot once, not twice, everytime I met themthe cleric repeated themnot once, not twice, but everytime to incite someonethe investigator repeated themnot once, not twice, but everytime he needed tothe witnesses repeated themnot once, not twice, but everytime they were asked tothe judge repeated themnot once, not twice, but everytime he meant to

If I tell you her words were not her words anymorethey were the accuser’s wordsthey were the cleric’s wordsthey were the investigator’s wordsthey were the witnesses’ wordsthey were the judge’s words

If I tell you the words Aasiya is accused of saying,they were not hers, they were never hers,they were the words of everyone else

Ignorant men, ignorant women – You and Ifilthy our words, filthy our souls – You and Iguilty be me, guilty be you, guilty be all – You and I

*This poem derives from interviews with the accused, the accusers and casefile of Aasiya bibi

Photos courtesy: Ayesha Shahid

Soch Magazine Volume I Issue I

In the Falsa FieldH a s h i m b i n R a s h i d

“Even my wife saying please go, don’t sit here…This is really difficult you know, it is not your friend, this is not your brother…wife is the part of you, part of your heart, part of your mind, so if your wife gonna tell you ‘just leave here, go please you will die here’, you figure

out how hard it is (sic).” – Hussain Jaffri

“So can you imagine like if happen is one hundred fifty bomb blasts like killing people and plus no arrested like what do you do you

think what it means (sic).” – Zainab Zaidi

S u m a i y a A h m e d

In 1971, the nation of Pakistan was broken off into two, Pakistan and Bangladesh: this point in history could have been prevented if not for the systematic marginalization of East Pakistan (later Bangladesh) from the more dominant, West Pakistan. This event should have served as a lesson to prevent further discrimination against other minorities. The lesson, though, has not been learned. The first three years of my life were spent in the city of Khuzdar, Balochistan. My dad, a lecturer at Balochistan Engineering University, taught hundreds of Baloch students throughout his thirteen-year career. He even conducted elections in some regions of the province. His experiences presented me with a different perspective of the province, one very different from that which many have come to accept in Pakistan. In his time there, he saw first-hand the role of the military, federal and local governments, and the sardars in systematically cleansing the local population. From 2003 to 2012 approximately 8,000 people were allegedly kidnapped by Pakistani security forces in the Balochistan province. In 2008 alone, an estimated 1,100 Baloch people disappeared, according to a report by Human Rights Watch. There have also been reports of torture by these same military forces whose role is to protect civilians. An increasing number of bodies “with burn marks, broken limbs, nails pulled out, and sometimes with holes drilled in their heads” are being found on roadsides because of a “kill and dump” campaign conducted by Pakistani security forces especially by the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) and the Pashtun-dominated Frontier Corps (FC). The missing and the dead include Baloch human rights activists, political workers, armed

fighters as well as ordinary men and women. The Voice of Baloch Missing Persons (VBMP) organization estimated the number at more than 2,200 since 2005. For a province with the smallest population in the country, the numbers are astonishing. Despite its vast natural wealth as the most resource-rich of Pakistan’s provinces, Balochistan is desperately poor – barely 25 per cent of the population is literate (the national average is 47 per cent), around 30 per cent are unemployed and just 7 per cent have access to tap water. Thus, it is evident that the Baloch people have been denied access to their riches. According to a recent World Bank report, Balochistan has the country’s lowest growth record, the worst infrastructure, the highest poverty rate, lowest social indicators for health and education, and the lowest levels of satisfaction with government service delivery. The presence of natural gas in households is even more discriminately low. Further, instability in the province has forced many Baloch to flee their homes. UNICEF reported that more than 80,000 people have been displaced from their homes due to the conflict between Baloch fighters and the Pakistani state. Their living conditions are a human rights abuse on their own. For the displaced who decide to move to a different city, the situation does not get better. On the streets of Karachi, the biggest and most populated city in Pakistan, one would find beautiful children

everywhere, wearing ragged clothing, picking garbage, and begging for money – children of the Baloch. The Baloch are economically marginalized even within their own province. The 33,000-strong Balochistan Constabulary has only 900 serving Baloch. The 12,000-strong Coast Guard has only 90 Baloch on its rolls, while the famous Baloch Regiment of the Pakistan Army does not recruit Baloch officers or soldiers among its ranks. Makes you think again about equality, doesn’t it? Pakistani media and the state have been quick to paint the Baloch struggle for freedom as a quest for provincial autonomy, an adventurism of few leaders, wishful thinking of collegiate youth, and a campaign by Jews. Yes, they have even been accused of being Jews. It is disappointing to note that no one: the military, government, media or the general Pakistani populace, has stopped to think why the Baloch are struggling for freedom. How many times have we heard of the atrocities committed on the Baloch in mainstream media? Perhaps, the statistics provided above highlighting the physical extermination and economic marginalization of the Baloch at the hands of the Pakistani establishment will help us understand their cause and their struggle. If not, the lessons of 1971 truly remain unheeded and unlearned.

9Volume I Issue I

I want a moment- Dear sir, a little momentin which I have to do so much.for I have to gather all the recollections of my innocence,and brush away my tears,a moment to make all my remembrances fit into an infinite space,and this millstone, I have to carry around my neck forever.

There was this moment, not too long ago,when the grass would smell mellow, cool droplets would splatter,and the smell of dampened mud, drenched with hope and misery,would smell like home, and when,the wind would gush and the crows and sparrows would chirp,I’d look at the trees outside and would wonder howhappy I was to be me.

The moment when our poverty could not bring our spirit down,last Christmas Eve, when had no cake, nor any lights,yet we paid five rupees each for charity at the service,and had smiled jovially, and did not feel bad.

The moment of right now has arrived- I am sitting here,when you say, “What happened, beta?” with concern dripping from your eyes,

I don’t know what to say,because what the moment had withheld in itself, in its glory and all of its fulfillment, was so ghastly and irrevocable,that it cannot be fathomed,I ran when the flames knocked vehemently on our door,the raucous laughter of those unhappy men, who knew not what they were doing,keeps replaying in my head as an old, broken film.

Think of me as a person in this moment dear sir!a person like yourself, who deserves not this predicament. for I did not do you wrong, I did not.yet now, when my home has been snatched away from me like a jealous child snatches another’s toy,I will not wail, nor will I lament,only revere the moments I was glad I was me… I will conjure my favorite guava tree and flowers in my mind, and etch them forever. I will not abuse anyone, nor will I damn, for I am the moment’s child,and this moment here will not last, like those before it didn’t either,and later, I’d still be me, and have it no other way.

In all moments that have gone by,And all those which are going to come.

*This poem is narrated by a young girl, a victim of the tragic attack

on the Badami Bagh Christian community in Lahore.

It is disappointing to note that no one: the military, government, media, or the general Pakistani populace,

The Silent War in PakistanMoment’s ChildN o o r A f s a r M i r z a

Soch Magazine8

Chapter Update:University of Toronto

Mississauga

Natasha Persaud

Since the UTM chapter was

established two years ago, we have

raised over $4000 through events

ranging from bake sales, BBQs and

talent shows, to benefit the lives

of Pakistanis in need. We have also

been raising awareness on issues

surrounding Pakistan, through

discussion forums and debates.

Previous topics have included the

situation in Kashmir and US drone

attacks on Pakistan. This year,

the Oscar-winning documentary,

Saving Face was screened to raise

awareness about the horrific

practice of acid-throwing on

women. PDF-UTM has also created

an annual tradition of hosting

a talent show called AWAAZ.

AWAAZ is a night for students to

come out and relax before final

exams begin. For our second annual

show, covered by OMNITV and

TVONE, we focused on highlighting

positive aspects of Pakistan.

Overall, PDF-UTM has offered an

outlet for students to educate

themselves, while dong their

bit to support sustainable and

grassroots development initiatives

in Pakistan. We look forward

to continuing this tradition.

Photos courtesy: Ayesha Shahid

Painting by Baloch artist, Seema Sardarzehi

Soch Magazine Volume I Issue I10 11

Impatient For Change: Thorncliffe Tenants’ Rallies Testify to a Community Demanding Fairness

Sadia Khan and Zabia Afzal

More than 30,000 people live in these two square kilometers. A considerable proportion of them are South Asian immigrants, a considerable proportion of them are from Pakistan. Many are unemployed, underemployed, and poor. They are overeducated, overqualified, but insufficiently endowed with “Canadian experience”. They work multiple jobs, but cannot afford adequate housing, so must share overpriced apartments with others in the same bind. Their landlords, parasitic by nature, invent ever more extortionist fees to increase profits, while their drive to reduce costs threatens the health and safety of tenants. The children, who make up a third of the community, leave overcrowded homes to go to overcrowded, under-resourced

schools, where they are denied the quality public education available to communities of rich, white, “Canadian” children not ten minutes away. They are culturally ghettoized and treated as the “other”. But they have not been silent. In June 2011, some of Thorncliffe’s youngest tenants were at the forefront of a rally for housing justice organized by the Thorncliffe Park Tenants’ Association (TPTA). The TPTA, which consists of a group of volunteers representing three of the worst buildings in the area, has served as a critical organizing force in the community, channeling the communities’ anger and frustration into collective action. Overdue maintenance issues, exorbitant “transfer” fees, pest infestations and extra charges for air conditioners were just some of the concerns that led tenants to demonstrate.Photo courtesy: Mythri Vijendran

Photo courtesy: BASICS Community News Service

Photo courtesy: Urooj Shahzadi

After almost two years and no improvements in housing conditions, members of the TPTA again mobilized residents this summer to send their landlords a strong message. Children from the TPTA’s tutoring program designed posters that set the tone, with slogans such as, “If you don’t give us our AC’s, We’ll make you sweat,” and “Your smart-meter can’t outsmart us,” referring to the illegal monitoring of electricity use per unit to charge tenants extra for hydro. The vocal young chanters led the adults in the march around the community. With protesters of every age, here was the past, present and future of a community that recognizes exploitation and aspires to end it. There were those, too, who watched from their balconies, afraid to participate in the protest lest they jeopardize their already precarious housing situation. Several marchers also came from outside the community to show their support. Some of the adults present at the rally have been involved in the housing struggle since the 1970s. One such long-time activist, Pat Moore, delivered an inspirational history lesson to the marchers, sharing the story of how she and a group of tenants—pictured in a photo from 1994 she held up—successfully converted one local building into a co-op which is now run by tenants. But the fight is not over, the victory is not complete. With the recent trend towards privatization, this building too is at risk of being turned over to the private sector, thus erasing a testament to tenant power in the community. Finding power in their own languages and challenging the monopoly of the English language,protesters were vocal in airing their grievances, frequently

grabbing hold of the loudspeaker from the organizers as the march progressed. By commanding the attention of their fellow marchers, neighbours and landlords, the strong voices of some women in hijabs defied certain gender norms and characterizations of hijabi women offered by mainstream narratives. One uninvited guest at the rally was Councillor John Parker—hailing from the neighbouring rich, white community, Leaside Park—who quickly made evident which side of the fight he was on. Following his paternalistic pattern of interactions with this racialized, low-income community, he reinforced racist stereotypes of immigrants being filthy and irresponsible. In a press release from the TPTA, the organization declared that it would not “stand for this kind of racism.” “As far as we are concerned,” said Shakeel Ahmed, a long-time Thorncliffe resident, “we don’t have a City Councillor. Every time he shows up here, he leaves more of a mess than he cleans up.”

Hindu minorities, which form nearly two percent of Pakistan’s population, suffer from severe discrimination and persecution. Politically, socially and culturally, Hindu minorities face some of the most impeding disadvantages as a group, in a society that is predominantly Muslim. While their struggle continues to be highlighted, the state has done little, if anything, to protect their communities, instead leaving them vulnerable as targets of the most zealous minds. In official school curricula, Hindus are often taught be an inferior community. Case studies and reports done by independent organizations criticize the school curriculua in both public and private schools as well as madrassas, highlighting texts condemning Hindu practices and rituals. Textbooks often refer to them as enemies of the Pakistani state in the context of its historical conflict with neighboring India. The role that Pakistani Hindus have played in prevalent cultural and civil contexts is rarely, if at all, taught

to children. Hindus are often depicted as un-pure or “napak” and their religious and sociocultural practices condemned. As the fear of the religious right remains rampant in Pakistani political circles, what is being taught to impressionable children in society is rarely challenged. Uproars rage anytime a suggestion is made to change laws that directly impact the plight of minorities; and this applies strongly to the biased representation of Hindus in an overwhelming number of Pakistani schools. Politically motivated attacks on the Hindu community have been a trend in various localities where they reside. In Baluchistan, kidnappings of Hindu persons have been rising, which has left the Hindu populace to live in constant fear. Security forces in the province have been accused by the community for picking up unwilling Hindu residents for nationalistic reasons, such as accusing them of being Indian agents. The Pakistani states often blames Indian state agencies for the unrest in Baluchistan

and supporting Baloch nationalist and secessionist movements in the war-torn region. Religious persecution and harassment add to the list of problems the Hindu community faces every day. Last year, an unprovoked assault by a group of Muslim individuals ransacked a temple in the province of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa (KP). The attack came in the aftermath of a controversial and derogatory film made in America insulting the prophet. The caretakers of the temple asserted that the men did not even bother to disguise their identities, shouting slogans such as “Kill the Hindus,kill the children of the Hindus.” Alas, Hindus in the country have started to flee, and one could do little to blame them. In 2005, it was reported that the Indian government granted nearly 13,000 citizenships to Hindu minorities coming from Pakistan. This trend is unlikely to be reversed if the current status of Hindus remain the same.

12 Soch Magazine

The Hindu ExodusM u n e e b S i d d i q u i

The PDF Executive team

undertook several projects last year,

in line with its mandate of advocacy

and activism for marginalized

communities in Pakistan, and

those of the diaspora. This includes

publishing statements, and

organizing open discussion forums

and protests, to understand, criticize

and expose the systemic injustices

and oppression built into the

Pakistani state and society, through

its elites’ long-standing association

with imperialism, colonialism and

neoliberal economics.

PDF’s five statements

this year, published in both English

and Urdu, aimed to expose the

systemic challenges underpinning

daily catastrophes faced by

Pakistanis oppressed on the basis

of class, gender, ethnic and religious

affiliations. These statements

addressed issues such as workers’

rights (after the deadly factory

fire in Karachi claiming 300 lives),

unequal access to education, as

well as the state’s deep sponsorship

and collusion in the promotion of

religious militancy and sectarian

violence in Pakistan.

In addition to statements,

public protests were organized in

Toronto, in response to repeated

religiously-motivated attacks on the

Hazara Shia community in Quetta.

Many from the Greater Toronto Area

came to support the rallies and then

participated in a people’s strategy

session to formulate a list of demands

for the Pakistani government in the

aftermath of this violence.

Throughout the year,

the PDF team organized monthly

discussion forums to ensure a safe,

inclusive platform to talk about

issues such as labour rights, peasant

struggles in Okara, land grabbing

and exploitation in Karachi, as well

as the legacy of colonialism in the

Pakistani state. We also partnered

with the Noor Cultural Center in

Toronto to conduct a four-part

discussion series, challenging

mainstream Western narratives

regarding the issues facing Pakistan

in the context of democracy,

development, religious extremism

and gender discrimination.

The team also paired up

with PDF’s university chapters to

support sustainable, community-led

development projects in Pakistan.

This year, funds were raised to

help build water pumps in Kasur

and purchase lab equipment for

a health clinic in Rawalpindi. The

PDF collective hopes to continue

its struggle to re-imagine Pakistan

as a progressive, democratic and

pluralistic entity going into another

year.

Dr. Amina Jamal discusses women’s role in Pakistani society at PDF’s Discussion Forum on January 27, 2013, at Academy of the Impossible in Toronto.

Executive BodyUpdate

Urooj Shahzadi , Nabeel S Ahmed