Posts Tagged ‘ Mohammad Zia ul-Haq ’

For Many in Pakistan, a Television Show Goes Too Far

By Declan Walsh for The New York Times

One morning last week, television viewers in Pakistan were treated to a darkly comic sight: a posse of middle-class women roaming through a public park in Karachi, on the hunt for dating couples engaged in “immoral” behavior.

Panting breathlessly and trailed by a cameraman, the group of about 15 women chased after — sometimes at jogging pace — girls and boys sitting quietly on benches overlooking the Arabian Sea or strolling under the trees. The women peppered them with questions: What were they doing? Did their parents know? Were they engaged?

Some couples reacted with alarm, and tried to scuttle away. A few gave awkward answers. One couple claimed to be married. The show’s host, Maya Khan, 31, demanded to see proof. “So where is your marriage certificate?” she asked sternly.

This hourlong spectacle, broadcast live on Samaa TV on Jan. 17, set off a furious reaction in parts of Pakistan. Outrage sprang from the Internet and percolated into the national newspapers, where writers slammed Ms. Khan’s tactics as a “witch hunt.”

“Vigil-aunties,” read one headline, referring to the South Asian term “aunty” for older, bossy and often judgmental women.

Now, the protests are headed to court. On Friday, four local nongovernment organizations will file a civil suit against Samaa TV in Pakistan’s Supreme Court, hoping to galvanize the country’s top judges into action.

“Journalists don’t have the right to become moral police,” said Adnan Rehmat of Intermedia, a media development organization that is among the petitioners. “We need to draw a line.”

Images of moral vigilantes prowling the streets have an ominous resonance in Pakistan, where many still recall the dark days of the Islamist dictator Gen. Mohammad Zia ul-Haq in the 1980s, when the police could demand to see a couple’s nikkahnama — wedding papers — under threat of imprisonment.

But the strong reaction is also drawn from a pressing contemporary worry: that the budding television media, seen as a force for democracy and greater social freedom for much of the past decade, have lost their way as part of a cutthroat battle for ratings.

“It really aggravates me that the media is using their power to intrude and invade our privacy, often with no good reason,” said Mehreen Kasana, a 22-year-old American-educated blogger from Lahore, who wrote a widely circulated protest against the Samaa TV show.

The controversy has rekindled a debate about the direction of Pakistan’s TV industry. Since liberalization in 2000, the sector has exploded from one channel — the state-controlled one — to more than 80 today, 37 of which carry national or local current affairs.

The media revolution has transformed social and political boundaries: in 2007, feisty coverage played a central role in pushing Pervez Musharraf toward the exit; in recent weeks it helped guard against a possible military coup.

But television is also a lucrative business controlled by powerful, largely unaccountable tycoons. Last year Pakistan’s television stations had advertising revenues of more than $200 million, according to Aurora, an industry journal — 28 percent more than the previous year.

Amid stiff competition for viewers, channels have relied on populist measures — rowdy political talks shows and, in recent times, vigilante-style “investigative” shows modeled on programs in neighboring India.

Some have a noble objective: holding to account crooked public servants, police officers and even fellow journalists. But others have veered into territory that could be described as Pakistan’s answer to Jerry Springer — voyeuristic, mawkish and intrusive.

In recent months, one reporter screamed at a man accused of child rape as he awaited trial outside a courthouse; another hectored a man said to be a self-confessed necrophile inside a jail cell; and a TV reporter “raided” a gathering of whisky drinkers, even though alcohol flows freely at many media parties.

Abbas Nasir, a former head of Dawn News television, said he was “nauseated” by some coverage.

“Hosts are under pressure to bring in ratings, and there is carte blanche to do the most bizarre things,” he said.

Another critic derided such reporters as “pussycat vigilantes” because they avoided challenging rich or powerful Pakistanis, whose Western-style lifestyles go unexamined.

“They only go after the people they know will not bite back,” said Nadeem Farooq Paracha, a culture writer.

Ms. Khan’s show touched a raw nerve because it combined simmering concern over media ethics with wider fears about society’s conservative tilt. Even General Zia’s son was appalled. In answer to a question on Twitter, Ijaz ul-Haq, a politician from Punjab Province, said he was “still in shock by what I’ve heard about her show.”

In a telephone interview on Tuesday, Ms. Khan rejected her critics, calling them “an elite class that don’t even watch my show,” and said the show merely intended to highlight the dangers that unaccompanied youths face in Karachi.

She also denied that there was anything unusual about asking couples for their wedding certificate — even though she does not carry one. All of “Pakistan knows me and my wedding pictures,” she said. “So I don’t have to.”

But on Wednesday, Samaa TV issued a formal apology for her show, followed by a short clip of Ms. Khan, sitting on a bed, offering an apology of sorts. “I never intended to make you teary-eyed or hurt you,” she said.

The furor has renewed long-standing demands for media regulation. With the state-run Pakistan Media Regulatory Authority seen as ineffective, the organizations approaching the Supreme Court on Friday hope the judiciary can help. “We need to hold the media to account,” Mr. Rehmat said.

But others argue that involving the courts, with their history of heavy-handed interventions, could open the door to state licensing of free speech. “It could backfire,” said Beena Sarwar, a journalist who helped rally protests against Ms. Khan’s show. “The media needs to do this themselves.”

Amid the polemic, there is one bright spot: the use of Twitter and Facebook to stoke debate has shown how, even as social space contracts in a turbulent society, the virtual space is opening up new possibilities.

But so far, the use of social media has been largely confined to the country’s English-speaking minority. It was striking how little attention Ms. Khan’s show received in the Urdu media, which is read or watched by the vast majority of Pakistanis.

“My real worry is that Pakistan is moving rightwards, and this time the face won’t have a beard,” said Mr. Nasir, the former head of Dawn News television. “And before people know it, they won’t know what’s hit them.”

Pakistanis for Peace Editor’s Note- Samaa Tv and host Maya Khan ought to be ashamed of themselves for calling this program journalism. Vulture reporting is more appropriate. Highly intrusive and showing a complete disregard for private citizens who are meeting in a public place is no place for a TV channel.  This certainly strengthens the religious extremists in Pakistan, shoving their brand of austere Wahaabi Islam down the throats of the majority Barelvi/Sufi population of Pakistan.

Meanwhile the Pakistani Telecom Authority is curtailing freedom of speech by mandating mobile phone operators to ban certain ‘dirty’ words, as the Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority lacks the moral and legal mindset to stop a television channel on trampling citizen’s privacy and freedoms. They should shut this show immediately and get this so called ‘reporter’ off the air.

Death Sentence in Slaying of Pakistani Governor

By Salman Masood for The New York Times

A court on Saturday sentenced to death an elite police guard who assassinated a leading secular politician he had been charged with protecting, a slaying that sent shockwaves throughout Pakistan and was seen as a clear marker of the growing religious intolerance and extremism in the country.

The news made international headlines not just because of the prominence of the politician killed, Salman Taseer, but because the killer was celebrated by many in Pakistan, including lawyers who showered him with rose petals and garlands at a court appearance.

Judge Syed Pervez Ali Shah announced the sentence for the guard, Malik Mumtaz Qadri, in an antiterrorism court at Adiala Jail in Rawalpindi. “Nobody can be given a license to kill on any pretext,” the judge was quoted as saying after the conclusion of the trial, which was held under tight security.

The ruling was unusual in Pakistan; frightened justices in recent years have been cowed into releasing Islamic militants or letting them off with light sentences. The judgment was especially noteworthy in such a high-profile case against a man whose popularity only grew with his confession and defense of the killing on religious grounds.

Mr. Taseer was the governor of Punjab Province and one of the country’s most outspoken opponents of the country’s controversial blasphemy laws, which mandate a death sentence for anyone convicted of insulting Islam.

Liberals and rights activists were encouraged by the verdict, but noted that it could be overturned in appeals that can drag on for years.

“Today’s judgment is a positive development whereby norms of justice have prevailed,” said Raza Rumi, a political analyst and columnist in the eastern city of Lahore. “Pakistan cannot be allowed to become a vigilante society, and the state — its judges and prosecutors — need to uphold the law.”

No matter what happens with the case, however, Mr. Taseer’s death cast a pall over discussions of the blasphemy laws — which had become something of a test case for broader debate of how religion and politics mix in Pakistan. That trend continued Saturday. The usually voluble Pakistani press dutifully covered the story, but news broadcasts were mainly devoid of the normal commentary or debate.

“Local media’s muted coverage of the sentence is reflective of the fear factor and the polarization within the society which includes media personnel,” Mr. Rumi said.

Mr. Qadri, 26, was convicted of murder and committing an act of terrorism, and was handed two life sentences.

No date for the execution has been announced, and Mr. Qadri has a right to appeal within seven days. Raja Shuja-ur-Rahman, a lawyer for Mr. Qadri, told the DAWN television channel that an appeal would be filed.

Mr. Qadri killed Mr. Taseer in a hail of bullets on Jan. 4, shooting at close range as Mr. Taseer was getting into his car.

Mr. Taseer, a businessman and a liberal politician, had emerged as a leader in a fight against the blasphemy law, which rights groups say has been used to persecute minorities, especially Christians.

The law was introduced in the 1980s under the military dictatorship of Gen. Mohammad Zia ul-Haq as part of a policy of promoting Islam to unite Pakistan’s deeply fractious society.

Mr. Qadri was hailed as a hero by Islamist lawyers, several mainstream politicians and religious leaders.

On Saturday, dozens of supporters of Mr. Qadri gathered outside the jail and chanted slogans against the sentence, while the judge slipped out a back door.

“We will free you! We will die for you!” 20-year-old Mohamemd Aslam was quoted as saying by The Associated Press. Others yelled: “Long live Qadri, long live Qadri!”

“By punishing one Mumtaz Qadri, you will produce a thousand Mumtaz Qadris!” shouted another man.

The ruling Pakistan Peoples Party, to which Mr. Taseer belonged, has been accused of distancing itself from the cause of repealing the blasphemy law since the assassination.

Pakistan Confronts Deepening Radicalism in Wake of Assassination

By Sarah A Topol for AOL News

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan — When Vice President Joe Biden made his surprise visit to Pakistan this week to shore up the battle against the Taliban and al-Qaida, he warned against the implications of increasing radicalism in Pakistani society in light of the assassination of a liberal governor by his bodyguard.

“The governor was killed simply because he was a voice of tolerance and understanding,” Biden said at a news conference Wednesday. “As you know all too well … societies that tolerate such actions end up being consumed by those actions.”

But when President Barack Obama meets Pakistani President Asif Ali Zardari later today in Washington to discuss counter-terrorism in Pakistan’s lawless frontier, he greets a president facing a new fight against radicalism deep in the heart of Pakistan’s urban centers.

Since Mumtaz Qadri unloaded over two-dozen bullets into Salmaan Taseer’s back because the outspoken liberal called the country’s blasphemy laws a “black law,” ecstatic crowds have flocked to shower Qadri with rose petals at his court appearances. Facebook fan pages and a fawning YouTube video cropped up within hours of the murder.

The glorification of a confessed killer by the masses has shocked the country’s small liberal minority. But most troubling has been the reaction of Pakistan’s urban middle class, whose support the United States needs in its war against terror and against the Taliban in neighboring Afghanistan.

From lawyers to tech-savvy Web users, the reaction of the educated middle class has most clearly illuminated the toehold that Islamic extremists have found when it comes to religious issues in Pakistan, even as the country continues to resist the allure of Islamic militants. Some see the reaction of the middle class as the expression of latent social outrage over how Islam is treated by the West, combined with a growing confusion over how to follow their faith in the modern world. This dormant indignation has found an outlet in the murder of a liberal governor.

“Taseer is a victim of religious extremism, but this religious extremism is wrapped up in a class and culture war, between the have-nots and the have, between the socially disposed and the possessors of society, between the globally connected and the globally disconnected,” Mosharraf Zaidi, a political analyst and policy development adviser in Islamabad, told AOL News.

Zaidi sees the convergence of educated Muslims around Qadri as a sign of confusion among the middle class over how to rationalize their modern lifestyle with Islamic tenets, prompting them to defer to radical right-wing mullahs when it comes to certain religious issues, like blasphemy.

“The Islamic narrative in Pakistan is dominated by a small religious establishment who has no viability electorally and who has limited social appeal. But on a number of specific issues they’re able to tap into something much deeper than what’s apparent in a day-to-day situation that awakens the inner radical,” Zaidi said. “The middle class is increasingly susceptible to the symbolism of the little guy taking on the big guy.”

Among Qadri’s most stalwart supporters are some of the same jurists who staged months of protests against Pakistan’s military dictator in 2007 and 2008, when Gen. Pervez Musharraf removed the country’s chief justice.

“We were supporting rule of law, the supremacy of the constitution and the independence of the judiciary,” said Mohammad Faisal Malik, who notes he was an active participant in the movement. “It was the most memorable year of my life.”

Dressed in a dapper black suit, Malik has a neat mustache and carefully styled sideburns that don’t suggest a picture of extremism taking root in Pakistan’s judicial system. But today he is among the group of lawyers who have been throwing garlands and chanting slogans in support of Qadri outside the district courthouse in Rawalpindi, and he is also one of the 500 lawyers signed on to represent Qadri.

Malik does not see a contradiction in supporting both the rule of law and a man who took the law into his own hands.

“Mr. Qadri reacted under certain provocation, feeling hurt from the remarks of the deceased governor. He acted like any Muslim will act when anyone uses filthy language against our prophet. … We were chanting and raising slogans against all those sectors that are using objectionable language against Muslims, against our holy prophet and against our religion. That was our message,” Malik explains in nearly flawless English, expressing a sense of global victimhood common among his compatriots.

In Pakistan, the day-to-day injustices in an impoverished society find no legal outlet. Corruption here is rife, and the rich can bribe their way out of anything. The lawyers supporting Qadri express an understanding of why the security guard picked up a gun.

“He took the law into his own hands when he thought he was helpless. He’s not in a position to initiate criminal proceedings against Mr. Taseer, so he reacted in this manner,” Malik said.

But some say the passivity of the educated class toward radical strains is not merely a product of a class and culture struggle but part of a larger generational gap in Pakistani society. Under the rule of Gen. Mohammad Zia ul-Haq in the 1980s, Pakistan underwent an Islamization campaign as the military dictator sought to unify the country and encourage jihadists to fight against Indian control of Kashmir and the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan. Today, some suggest, the younger generation is the product of state-sponsored radicalization.

“The state as a machinery is supporting and promoting religious extremism, and it happens through various means. It happens through media messages, it happens through textbooks,” said Marvi Sirmed, a human rights activist and blogger.

“The literate, quasi-educated urban population is the most vulnerable to these extremist propagandas, because they are exposed to electronic media and the outside world through social networking,” Sirmed said. “And I see a lot of stuff coming out through these sources that if you are naive, they can make you a suicide bomber very easily.”

It is this middle class, struggling with its faith in an age of global media and inter-connectivity, that the U.S. needs to win over, and it is precisely this sector it appears to be losing.

Pakistan’s middle class sees the United States not as a model of liberal values to be followed but rather as a country that inflicts repeated indignities upon Pakistanis’ culture and sense of worth with its military forays into the region in the past 10 years.

“We have to pay attention to the narrative of indignity, because it’s fueling things that start only as rhetorical and verbal but could very well link to Faisal Shahzad’s Nissan Pathfinder,” said Zaidi, referring to the failed Times Square bomber, an educated Pakistani who knew the United States only too well.

Vengeful New Militant Group Emerges in Pakistan

By Kathy Gannon for The Associated Press

Pakistani authorities now believe a dangerous new militant group, out to avenge a deadly army assault on a mosque in Islamabad three years ago, has carried out several major bombings in the capital previously blamed on the Taliban.

The emergence of the Ghazi Force was part of the outrage among many deeply religious Pakistani Muslims over the July 2007 attack by security forces against the Lal Masjid, or Red Mosque, a stronghold of Islamic militants.

The fierce attack, in which scores of young, heavily armed religious students died, inspired a new generation of militants. These Pakistanis have turned against a government they felt has betrayed them and, to their dismay, backed the U.S. role in neighboring Afghanistan.

The brief but bloody history of the Ghazi Force illustrates the unintended results of Pakistan’s policy of promoting Islamic extremists to fight India in the disputed area of Kashmir. That policy — which Pakistan denies it pursues — now threatens regional stability as the U.S. and Pakistan’s other Western partners pour billions of dollars into the country to stop the rise of Islamic militancy.

The new group is made up of relatives of students who died in the Red Mosque assault. It is named after the students’ leader, Maulana Abdul Rashid Ghazi, who was also killed. The mosque’s religious school, or madrassa, had been a sanctuary for militants opposed to Pakistan’s support of the U.S.-run war in Afghanistan.

Private television stations broadcast vivid scenes of the assault — commandos in black fatigues rapelling down ropes, the crackle of gunfire, bodies of black-shrouded girls carried out through the smoldering gates. Those images stunned the nation, especially families of the students and Pakistanis with deep religious feelings.

“Before the Lal Masjid, militants hadn’t yet declared war on the state of Pakistan. That changed with Lal Masjid,” said Zahid Hussain, author and terrorism expert who has written extensively about Pakistan.

Islamabad’s inspector general of police, Kalim Imam, told The Associated Press that the Ghazi Force was behind most of the deadliest attacks in the capital during the last three years. The attacks targeted the military, the Inter-Services Intelligence agency or ISI — which had ties to a number of militants — and a five-star hotel frequented by foreigners and the Pakistani elite.

The Ghazi Force helped recruit a security official who blew himself up inside the office of the World Food Program last October, killing five people, according to Imam. The force also sent a suicide bomber in September 2007 into the mess hall of the commando unit that attacked the Red Mosque, killing 22 people, he said.

Ghazi Force members may also have been involved in the audacious June 9 attack north of the capital that killed seven people and destroyed 60 vehicles ferrying supplies to NATO and U.S. soldiers next door in Afghanistan, Imam said.

Many of those attacks had been attributed to the Pakistani Taliban, which operates in the remote tribal areas of the northwest along the border with Afghanistan. There is evidence of close ties between the Ghazi Force and the Pakistani Taliban, which the government has vowed to crush.

The Ghazi Force is believed to be headquartered in the Orakzai region of the border area, where the leader of the Pakistan Taliban, Hakimullah Mehsud, held sway for years. The leader of the Ghazi Force is believed to be Maulana Niaz Raheem, a former student at the Red Mosque.

Anger over the bloodshed at the mosque was all the greater because many of the militants and their supporters felt betrayed by a government that had once supported them. Both Ghazi and his brother Maulana Abdul Aziz Ghazi, who was freed on bail this year after two years in jail, were widely believed to have been on the payrolls of both the government and the ISI intelligence service.

Their father, Maulana Mohammed Abdullah, enjoyed a close relationship with the late President Mohammad Zia ul-Haq, and the mosque was a center for recruiting volunteers to fight against the Soviets in Afghanistan in the 1980s.

As opposition grew to Pakistan’s support of the U.S. role in Afghanistan, the mosque became a center of religious agitation against the government, with armed students taking over the complex and police laying siege.

A former senior official in the Interior Ministry told The Associated Press that the police wanted to storm the mosque and end the siege at its outset, send the students home and shut down the religious school and a neighboring library until tempers cooled.

President Gen. Pervez Musharraf refused, the official said, even though police knew that members of al-Qaida’s affiliate organization Jaish-e-Mohammed, which is banned in Pakistan, were bringing in weapons for the students.

Musharraf relented and ordered the assault after militants kidnapped several Chinese nationals running a massage parlor in Islamabad, accusing them of prostitution. The death toll remains in dispute. Red Mosque officials say hundreds died. The government says fewer than 100 were killed.

In a rare interview, Abdul Aziz Ghazi told AP he warned the government that an assault on the mosque would unleash forces that no one could control.

“I have been in jail. I did not form this force and I don’t condone the violence but they are angry at the injustices done,” he said this week.

Although the assault turned many Islamic hard-liners against the government, Pakistan remains unwilling to break all ties to the militants, instead following a high-risk strategy of coddling “good militants” while fighting those deemed “bad militants,” analysts say.

“The military and the ISI have given importance to these militants as assets. But those who have openly declared war, and there is no chance of them returning back to the state, the army is going after them,” said Manzar Jameel, a terrorism expert and researcher on the growth of extremism in Pakistan. “Yet they still believe that some are still assets and that they can keep control of the assets. It’s a failure of strategy.”

Army spokesman Maj. Gen. Athar Abbas denies any assistance to militant groups, saying past ties have long since been severed. He says the Ghazi Force is among the groups the 120,000 Pakistani soldiers waging war in the tribal regions are fighting.

Yet Anatol Lieven, a terrorism expert with the Department of War Studies at London’s King College, said it’s clear that the ISI continues to protect some militant groups, even if it has broken with others.

In a June report, the Rand Corporation think tank also alleged that Pakistan’s military and intelligence still support some militant groups “as a tool of its foreign and domestic policy.”

“A key objective of U.S. policy must be to alter Pakistan’s strategic calculus and end its support to militant groups,” the report said.

Christine Fair, a co-author of that report and an assistant professor at Georgetown University’s Center for Peace and Security Studies, said the battle against extremists in Pakistan is mired in layers of subterfuge by Pakistani intelligence and a “mystifying” acceptance by the CIA of Pakistan’s “good-militant, bad-militant” policy.

She said U.S. intelligence knows Pakistan protects one group — Lashkar-e-Taiba, which India blames for the 2008 Mumbai assault and Afghanistan accuses of masterminding deadly attacks against the Indian Embassy in Kabul.

“Lashkar-e-Taiba remains intact. I have had conversations with … officials in Washington. It is not their priority. Lashkar-e-Taiba is not an issue,” she said in an interview. “Yet Lashkar-e-Taiba has been attacking us in Afghanistan since 2004.”

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