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Tuesday, December 03, 2024

FEMICIDE BY AI

Deepfakes weaponised to target Pakistan’s women leaders


B yAFP
December 2, 2024

In Pakistan, deepfakes are being weaponised to smear women in the public sphere with sexual innuendo deeply damaging to their reputations in a country with conservative mores - Copyright AFP Amna YASEEN

Juliette MANSOUR, Shrouq TARIQ

Pakistani politician Azma Bukhari is haunted by a counterfeit image of herself — a sexualised deepfake video published to discredit her role as one of the nation’s few female leaders.

“I was shattered when it came into my knowledge,” said 48-year-old Bukhari, the information minister of Pakistan’s most populous province of Punjab.

Deepfakes — which manipulate genuine audio, photos or video of people into false likenesses — are becoming increasingly convincing and easier to make as artificial intelligence (AI) enters the mainstream.

In Pakistan, where media literacy is poor, they are being weaponised to smear women in the public sphere with sexual innuendo deeply damaging to their reputations in a country with conservative mores.

Bukhari — who regularly appears on TV — recalls going quiet for days after she saw the video of her face superimposed on the sexualised body of an Indian actor in a clip quickly spreading on social media.

“It was very difficult, I was depressed,” she told AFP in her home in the eastern city of Lahore.

“My daughter, she hugged me and said: ‘Mama, you have to fight it out’.”

After initially recoiling she is pressing her case at Lahore’s High Court, attempting to hold those who spread the deepfake to account.

“When I go to the court, I have to remind people again and again that I have a fake video,” she said.



– ‘A very harmful weapon’ –



In Pakistan — a country of 240 million people — internet use has risen at staggering rates recently owing to cheap 4G mobile internet.

Around 110 million Pakistanis were online this January, 24 million more than at the beginning of 2023, according to monitoring site DataReportal.

In this year’s election, deepfakes were at the centre of digital debate.

Ex-prime minister Imran Khan was jailed but his team used an AI tool to generate speeches in his voice shared on social media, allowing him to campaign from behind bars.

Men in politics are typically criticised over corruption, their ideology and status. But deepfakes have a dark side uniquely suited to tearing down women.

“When they are accused, it almost always revolves around their sex lives, their personal lives, whether they’re good mums, whether they’re good wives,” said US-based AI expert Henry Ajder.

“For that deepfakes are a very harmful weapon,” he told AFP.

In patriarchal Pakistan the stakes are high.

Women’s status is typically tied to their “honour”, generally defined as modesty and chastity. Hundreds are killed every year — often by their own families — for supposedly besmirching it.

Bukhari describes the video targeting her as “pornographic”.

But in a country where premarital sex and cohabitation are punishable offences, deepfakes can undermine reputations by planting innuendo with the suggestion of a hug or improper social mingling with men.

In October, AFP debunked a deepfake video of regional lawmaker Meena Majeed showing her hugging the male chief minister of Balochistan province.

A social media caption said: “Shamelessness has no limits. This is an insult to Baloch culture.”

Bukhari says photos of her with her husband and son have also been manipulated to imply she appeared in public with boyfriends outside her marriage.

And doctored videos regularly circulate of Punjab Chief Minister Maryam Nawaz Sharif — Bukhari’s boss — showing her dancing with opposition leaders.

Once targeted by deepfakes like these, women’s “image is seen as immoral, and the honour of the entire family is lost”, said Sadaf Khan of Pakistani non-profit Media Matters for Democracy.

“This can put them in danger,” she told AFP.



– Fighting the fakes –



Deepfakes are now prevalent across the world, but Pakistan does have legislation to combat their deployment in disinformation campaigns.

In 2016, a law was passed by Bukhari’s party “to prevent online crimes” with “cyberstalking” provisions against sharing photos or videos without consent “in a manner that harms a person”.

Bukhari believes it needs to be strengthened and backed up by investigators. “The capacity building of our cybercrime unit is very, very important,” she said.

But digital rights activists have also criticised the government for wielding such broad legislation to quash dissent.

Authorities have previously blocked YouTube and TikTok, and a ban on X — formerly Twitter — has been in place since after February elections when allegations of vote tampering spread on the site.

Pakistan-based digital rights activist Nighat Dad said blocking the sites serves only as “a quick solution for the government”.

“It’s violating other fundamental rights, which are connected to your freedom of expression, and access to information,” she told AFP.


Online harassment reaches new heights as 'emboldened manosphere' emerges: report


Photo by Paul Hanaoka on Unsplash
woman holding iPhone during daytime

November 30, 2024

In the days following Donald Trump's presidential victory, an alarming surge in misogynistic rhetoric and threats against women has emerged online and in real life, according to a report from the Associated Press. Dubbed the 'emboldened manosphere', the trend has left many women feeling unsafe and compelled to take protective measures.

Sadie Perez, a 19-year-old political science student in Wisconsin profiled in AP's report, now carries pepper spray with her on campus. Her mother ordered self-defense kits for her and her sister.

This reaction stems from the rise of right-wing 'manosphere' influencers who have seized on Trump's win to amplify misogynistic content online.

A troubling trend is the appropriation of the pro-choice slogan "My body, my choice" into "Your body, my choice," a phrase that has spread rapidly online. Attributed to a post by far-right figure Nick Fuentes, it garnered 35 million views on its first day on X. The slogan has since appeared in middle schools, college campuses, and even on t-shirts — which were later removed by Amazon.

Online declarations calling to "Repeal the 19th" Amendment (which gave women the right to vote) have gained millions of views.

While Trump himself isn't directly amplifying this rhetoric, his campaign's focus on masculinity and repeated attacks on Kamala Harris's gender and race have contributed to the current climate. Dana Brown from the Pennsylvania Center for Women and Politics suggests that for some men, Trump's victory represents a chance to reclaim traditional gender roles they feel they're losing.

Despite the fear and disgust many women feel, some are fighting back. Perez and her peers are supporting each other, celebrating wins like female majorities in student government, and encouraging women to speak out against the misogynistic rhetoric. As Perez puts it, "I want to encourage my friends and the women in my life to use their voices to call out this rhetoric and to not let fear take over."




Monday, December 02, 2024

PAKISTAN

Spoiling the youth potential

Muhammad Amir Rana 
December 1, 2024
DAWN



POLITICAL parties in Pakistan generally do not have a plan to engage the youth in constructive activities to capitalise on their potential. The exception is the PTI, which has mobilised a large segment of the youth to fuel an agitation movement in the country. Nevertheless, the party’s approach stems from its focus on its leader Imran Khan’s personality, rather than a deep connection between the youth and democratic values, rights, freedom, and hope.

In their comparison of PTI-led activism with the recent student movement in Bangladesh, which led to the ouster of Sheikh Hasina Wajed, political commentators overlooked several vital points. First, the student movement was centred on the pursuit of rights and freedoms, which Sheikh Ha­­sina’s government had curbed. The movement was not sudden but the result of a continuing dialogue and debate about the situation in Bangladesh, which primarily took place on university campuses, with Dhaka University as the main point. Social media platforms amplified the impact of these discussions, but they were essentially underpinned by robust intellectual discourse.

It was Gen Z — all too often stereotyped as self-centred — which actually came up with compelling arguments for change and successfully executed plans and strategies, drawing strength from marginalised segments. By contrast, PTI-led youth activism lacks the organisation and strong intellectual discourse of the student movement in Bangladesh. In fact, it is mainly jobless youth from KP that constitute the bulk of the party’s street power. Moreover, the PTI lacks strong organisational roots on campuses, which has limited its ability to foster sustained youth engagement.

A more fitting comparison for the student movement in Bangladesh might be drawn with the Jammu and Kashmir Joint Awami Action Com­mittee and the Awami Action Committee of Gilgit-Baltistan, which effectively mobilised the public against the government’s efforts to eliminate subsidies. Moreover, political and ideological parallels could be drawn with movements like the Haq Do Tehreek in Gwadar and the Baloch Yakjheti Committee, led by Mehrang Baloch, which have galvanised marginalised segments around the issue of rights and the missing persons.


Imran Khan’s political agenda does not address the structural challenges the youth face.

What unites the youth around Imran Khan is his consistent narrative and political rhetoric, coupled with his populist leadership style. For many, he represents a heroic figure, a symbol of resistance against the establishment, and a beacon of hope in a political landscape where mainstream parties have compromised mainly with the establishment. Most importantly, he serves as a symbol of change for the growing middle class of Pakistan, a demographic burdened by the demands of the country’s 59 per cent youth bulge.

However, the PTI is similar to other political parties in the country, many of which have transformed into political dynasties. Power and leadership within the PTI are increasingly concentrated around Imran Khan and his family, with crucial decisions made only with his consent. Despite widespread public support, the party needs a solid organisational structure and an effective secondary leadership capable of uniting its cadre when the top leadership is absent.

The PTI often displays overconfidence, as evident in its ‘solo flight’ approach when it holds protests. It prefers this to building consensus with rival political parties. Its agitation revolves around Imran Khan’s release from jail, instead of broader democratic principles. Even its stance on judicial independence has been selective as evidenced by its approach to the 26th Amendment to the Constitution.

While Pakistan does have potential for a vibrant student movement to evolve, there are three major constraints in the way. First, the PTI is channelling youth energy into populist ideas and cultish loyalty, which erodes the potential for open dialogue among the youth. Second, the establishment has taken control of university campuses, and has managed to restrict spaces meant for intellectual debate and activism. Religious activities — spearheaded by groups such as the Tableeghi Jamaat, the Tehreek-i-Labbaik Pakistan, and even some banned ones — are given prominence. Unfortu­nately, this has also impacted faculty members, who have either come under these groups’ influe­nce or surrendered their independence to the es­­tablishment. Even a mid-level official of the establishment can effectively control a university, with the teaching staff and administrators unable to challenge his authority.

The powers that be along with other state insti­t­u­­­­­tions and political parties have undermined Pak­istani youth’s potential. Two key factors should be mentioned: their fear of a youth-led movement for change and their lack of vision regarding the constructive harnessing and channelling of the you­th’s potential. In brief, the power elites are fo­­c­used only on safeguarding their own interests. They send their children abroad for education or enrol them in one of the handful of exclusive elite institutions in the country, with little to no concern for the broader quality of education, the fut­ure of the youth, or the development of a knowledge-based economy. Their primary focus remains on controlling the youth rather than empowering them.

Those who call the shots in Pakistan follow a template similar to Sheikh Hasina’s in Bangladesh. In her case, she first subdued the media through severe censorship, then eliminated political opponents, brought the judiciary under her control, and forged alliances with the military. While their may some differences in sequence, the overall process here is strikingly similar, with the ruling parties reinforcing such practices.

But despite such parallels with Bangladesh, the power elites here do not perceive the emergence of a similar nationwide movement, given their tight grip on university campuses, the fragmentation of rights movements on ethnic and nationalist lines, and the limited potential for a unified uprising. The PTI, perhaps unintentionally, plays into the strategy of those who wield actual power by keeping the youth engaged in futile political activities and diverting their energy from constructive efforts. Even if Imran Khan achieves his aims, including his release, through youth support, it is unlikely to inspire any long-term optimism in the younger generation. His political agenda does not offer any real hope, nor does it address the structural challenges the youth face.

Additionally, the links between the extremists and the power wielders are still there, which ensures that the latter can rely on these religiously inspired elements for support in times of crisis, further consolidating their control.

The writer is a security analyst.

Published in Dawn, December 1st, 2024

Saturday, November 30, 2024

PAKISTAN

The triumph of folly
November 30, 2024
 DAWN




WHEN good men and women can’t speak the truth, when facts are inconvenient, when integrity and character no longer matter, when ego and self-preservation are more important than national integrity, then there is nothing left to stop the triumph of tyranny.

I find myself lost in anger and anguish. The answer for how I can go through this inner convulsion is to put pen to paper for the benefit of all those who should be deeply afraid for the future of our nation.

What is at stake in our benighted land? To put it bluntly: collective suicide is actually in progress, with conscious efforts at denial, distortion and deceit by the ruling elite, which is bent upon sowing discord and discontent through their ‘psy-ops’ techniques. This recipe for disaster will lead to the unravelling of our state and society.

Erasmus wrote in The Praise of Folly (1509): “The less talent they have, the more pride, vanity and arrogance they have. All these fools, however, find other fools who applaud them.”


An illegitimate coalition of power-hungry politicos provides a democratic façade to the machinations of the deep state. Everyone is aware that the results of the Feb 8 national polls this year were manipulated in favour of those who do not represent the majority, which was denied its mandate. Some people justify the rigging by pleading that almost all previous elections were also manipulated by the actual string pullers. There is truth in this premise of political engineering by the establishment. However, the blatant misuse of power mixed with persecution and corruption within the state agencies responsible for holding the last general elections has crossed all limits. The institutions constitutionally responsible for holding free and fair elections failed miserably in their duty.

The experiment of putting together neutral, apolitical caretaker administrations for holding free and fair elections has been an abject failure. Cabinets, including the chief executives, were selected by the deep state whose agenda was perceived to be advanced by the outgoing prime minister and leader of the opposition.

The biggest disappointment has been the Election Commission of Pakistan. The chief of the electoral watchdog brought the civil services into such disrepute that his erstwhile colleagues openly condemned his conduct as undignified and unprincipled. He has caused irreparable damage to a constitutional office of great responsibility and public trust, and flouted the orders of the apex court by pandering to the political engineers running the current political charade.

Collective suicide is in progress, with conscious efforts at denial, distortion and deceit.

The judiciary, of all the premier national institutions, has suffered the most. The open bickering and infighting among the judges of the apex court has shattered the administrative and operational autonomy of the institution required to safeguard the Constitution and ensure the fair administration of justice to the people. A farcical display of manipulation and arm-twisting within parliament resulted in a constitutional amendment that has dealt a severe blow to the judiciary. The apex court had settled the matter of appointment of the chief justice by recognising the principle of seniority; the senior-most judge after the chief justice was assured of his place at the pinnacle and there was no dispute.

The present ruling elite did not want the senior-most judge after the chief justice to take over the mantle and therefore, a constitutional amendment that can only be described as person-specific was rubber-stamped by parliament and that too without any debate or deliberation.

A parallel constitutional court has been established, with junior judges predominantly selected by the executive, to adjudicate and preside over highly sensitive issues of great public significance such as the trial of civilians in military courts and the review of the recent award of reserved minority seats to a political party by most Supreme Court judges. Unfortunately, the judiciary faces this predicament due to the strife within its own ranks.

The bureaucracy and police services have broken all previous records of becoming handy tools of a callous ruling elite. Some spineless seniors are dragging their junior officers into very awkward and embarrassing situations where human rights violations are endemic. Arguably, in no previous era, including periods of military rule, were such acts of persecution and indignity witnessed. Certain senior police officers are openly defying court orders. Political agitation and protests are handled through brutal tactics, which include late-night raids on the homes of political activists and office-bearers who are illegally detained and allegedly tortured. This kind of brutality reflects an autocratic mindset in the top echelons of the law-enforcement institutions.

There are extremely serious challenges on the internal security front. Balochistan is burning. The recent carnage in Kurram is a manifestation of the festering violence that has engulfed much of KP. The entire focus of our security establishment should be on dealing with these crises. The military and the intelligence agencies must ensure that the writ of the state is restored.

They are already engaged in kinetic operations against militant organisations in Balochistan. It has been announced recently that a full-fledged military operation is being launched to restore peace and order in the vast province. Since the last few years, the military has already been dealing with the insurgency. Staying away from an operation that entails gross human rights violations, the military must focus on winning the hearts and minds of the Baloch youth.

Finally, what has happened in Islamabad recently in a brutal crackdown on the participants of a political protest, should be cause for serious introspection by those who are calling the shots. History will judge them on how they dealt with a political crisis of this magnitude, which has been developing since the elections earlier this year. It is time to change course to fulfil the democratic aspirations of the people of Pakistan.

The writer is a former inspector-general of police.


Published in Dawn, November 30th, 2024

Friday, November 22, 2024

BALOCHISTAN IS A COUNTRY

Military option

DAWN
Editorial 
November 21, 2024 


CONSIDERING that Balochistan has been experiencing a steady wave of terrorist violence over the past few months, particularly involving Baloch separatist groups, it is no surprise that the state has decided to use armed force to quell the insurgency.

Using the platform of the Apex Committee, the civil and military leadership said on Tuesday that an operation would be launched to counter terrorism and separatist violence in the province, while Nacta would be revitalised under the vision of Azm-i-Istehkam. The meeting also announced that a National and Provincial Intelligence Fusion and Threat Assessment Centre would be created and a “whole-of-system approach” adopted.

It is clear why the state has to take firm action to restore peace in Balochistan. In August, terrorists launched a coordinated series of attacks in different parts of the province; such incidents have been occurring since then with disturbing regularity. They include the massacre of miners in Dukki in October, as well as the bombings in Mastung and at the Quetta railway station earlier this month. In fact, the railway station atrocity, in which a large number of civilians were martyred along with security personnel, may have played a decisive role in the state’s decision to launch a military operation.

Apart from these incidents, there have been numerous grisly murders of non-Baloch workers, as well as the suicide bombing in October outside Karachi airport in which two Chinese nationals were killed. The latter incident threatened to imperil Pakistan’s relationship with Beijing. All these violent acts have been linked to Baloch separatists.

Yet it should be remembered that although Balochistan has witnessed numerous military operations over the decades, they have largely failed to bring long-lasting peace to the province. This time, with Nacta on board, things could be different. While the state goes after terrorists, innocent people should not be hauled away and there must be transparency regarding the operations. If relatives of the insurgents, especially women and children, are targeted in the name of tackling terrorism, it will be counterproductive and breed more disaffection.

As this paper has said before, while restoring peace is essential, addressing Balochistan’s socioeconomic deprivation is equally important as terrorists exploit poverty and underdevelopment in the resource-rich province to turn people against the state. Moreover, the state will need to keep channels open with the Afghan Taliban to ensure that Baloch insurgents are not able to find sanctuary in their country.

Better ties with Kabul can help thwart the malignant designs of the “hostile foreign powers” that the Apex Committee identified. Some regional states, such as India, are deepening relations with the Afghan Taliban. For peace in Balochistan and elsewhere in the country, Pakistan cannot afford to ignore these developments and must keep the lines open with Kabul.

Published in Dawn, November 21st, 2024

Saturday, November 16, 2024

BALOCHISTAN IS A COUNTRY

No quick fixes in Balochistan

Rafiullah Kakar 
Published November 16, 2024 
DAWN






THE deadly terrorist attack in Quetta has reignited debates surrounding the security situation in Balochistan. Predictably, hawkish voices have sought to discredit advocates for political reconciliation. This knee-jerk reaction merits a nuanced response.

There is no question that the escalation of violence by Baloch separatists has resulted in appalling attacks against innocent civilians, notably labourers, coal miners, truck drivers and others. These acts warrant unequivocal condemnation, and it is imperative that we stand united in denouncing violence against citizens merely seeking to work and live in peace.

Nonetheless, during such tragic situations, we must also guard against those who push their agenda for intensified repression of the Baloch people. Here’s why we should not adopt their hawkish narrative.

First, the Baloch insurgency is rooted in a deeply entrenched popular grievance stemming from decades of systemic political exclusion and socioeconomic marginalisation and exploitation. This grievance is pervasive, resonating across the spectrum of pro-state Baloch leaders, nationalists, and insurgents alike. Baloch grievances have historically been met with a combination of political engineering — co-optation and installation of pliant political voices — and coercion. This dual strategy may have produced an illusion of stability, but it has reinforced the underlying resentment and perception of disenfranchisement.

The reality is that insurgents have drawn strength from the very policies intended to curtail them.

The post-18th Amendment period presented a critical opportunity to foster political reconciliation and stability. Yet this opening was largely squandered. While the amendment was inadequate in its ability to address the underlying institutional drivers of Balochistan’s marginalised status, it still represented a major step towards federal harmony.

Through political and fiscal decentralisation, the amendment briefly pacified tensions, as Baloch nationalists largely engaged in the parliamentary process with renewed hope. However, this optimism was short-lived. The establishment’s de facto power at the provincial level not only endured but expanded.

Indeed, political developments since the 18th Amendment have only amplified grievances. Over the past decade, the province has seen a rapid turnover of six elected chief ministers (excluding caretaker leaders). At least two exited through the threat of no-confidence votes, allegedly backed by powerful elements in the establishment. The irony is that, despite the frequent reshuffling, the principal actors have remained nearly the same, though the political parties involved have changed because this cohort of ‘electables’ shifts political allegiances every five years at the behest of the state. This cycle of political musical chairs has left governance and public service delivery in a shambles, with little accountability.

Public procurement, jobs, and development funds have become prime conduits for rent-seeking and corruption. Street-smart politicians have adopted a simple formula for securing and retaining the chief minister’s post: the development budget is effectively parcelled out to MPAs, with the largest shares allocated to key ministers, heads of coalition partners, and non-elected ‘notables’. This approach has proven so effective that MPAs have often disregarded party lines to support the treasury benches, even when in opposition. Hence an elite class of ever-green politicians, along with their allies in the military and civil bureaucracy, have allegedly accumulated wealth and influence.

In the past, my critique of the corruption and misgovernance in Balochistan has been used by some to argue against the 18th Amendment and the seventh NFC Award. However, these issues are not a failure of decentralisation per se. Rather, the situation is an indictment of elite capture perpetuated primarily by state-sponsored political engineering.

The practice of political engineering has only intensified. The current provincial government, brought to power after the widely criticised elections of February 2024, arguably stands as one of the least legitimate coalitions in the last three decades. This persistent installation of pliant figures has eroded the legitimacy of parliamentary politics in the eyes of citizens. At the same time, state heavy-handedness has grown more pronounced: enforced disappearances of Baloch students and activists, mistreatment of peaceful protesters, and the recent strong-arming of BNP-M senators have fuelled distrust.

What state officials fail to realise is that such tactics serve only to bolster the Baloch insurgents’ narrative, who adeptly exploit these actions to portray the federal parliamentary system as ineffective and indifferent to Baloch grievances. Akhtar Mengal’s resignation from parliament stands as a striking illustration of this unfortunate reality.

In light of these realities, any strategy for peace that fails to address the foundational grievances underlying the insurgency is bound to fail.

Secondly, those advocating a more aggressive response appear to suffer from political amnesia. This hawkish stance has been the prevailing strategy for over two decades. The outcomes speak for themselves. The bitter reality is that insurgents have drawn strength from the very policies intended to curtail them.


Genuine political reconciliation, with few exceptions, has rarely been given a chance. One notable instance was the short-lived efforts of Dr Abdul Malik Baloch, whose tenure as chief minister saw an attempt at reconciliation undermined by the establishment, whose reliance on their Baloch protégés took precedence over fostering an authentic dialogue with Baloch nationalists.

The oversimplified question posed by hawks —‘how can one negotiate with those who don’t want to talk?’— obscures a more complex reality. In the climate of alienation, we may be approaching a point of no return. The situation has been compounded further by the changed character of the Baloch insurgency, where a younger, educated and more radical cadre calls the shots. The insurgency’s increasingly urban and decentralised nature renders traditional reconciliation efforts insufficient, even if all other factors were conducive.

Clearly, there are no simple solutions or quick fixes. However, confidence-building measures could help lay the groundwork for future political engagement. At a minimum, such CBMs should achieve these objectives: ensuring genuine political representation, ending enforced disappearances, and reducing the reliance on force. CBMs along these lines could open the door to a path of political reconciliation. Short of such CBMs, the future of Balochistan looks bleak.


Balochistan politics

Rafiullah Kakar 
Published November 16, 2023
DAWN

BALOCHISTAN has again captured the spotlight, courtesy of Nawaz Sharif’s strategic foray into the province to court electables from BAP and other parties in a bid to solidify PML-N’s position ahead of the polls. The influx of over two dozen electables into PML-N begs a critical evaluation of Islamabad’s approach towards Balochistan. The national discourse has almost always attributed the plight of Balochistan to its own predatory and corrupt political elite, particularly the tribal sardars. While Balochistan’s people generally agree with this assessment, they stress a crucial exception: these predatory elites owe their sustenance primarily to the patronage emanating from Islamabad.

The genesis of the predatory political behaviour of traditional elites in Balochistan can be traced to the tribal governance system of the British. Popularly known as the ‘Sandeman system’, the colonial frontier governance model corrupted tribal social structures and fortified the position of tribal sardars by extending to them patronage in exchange for performing specific administrative functions. Tribal sardars thus became integral to a two-way patron-client relationship, acting as both clients of the colonial state and patrons of their tribal subjects.

The postcolonial state perpetuated this policy of ‘indirect rule’ through the tribal sardars. Although the introduction of representative democracy opened avenues for commoners to enter the political arena, the de facto power of the sardars endured, courtesy of the patronage received from Islamabad. The Islamabad-sardar alliance symbolises a marriage of convenience, with the state providing patronage in return for sardars’ countering assertive Baloch nationalists and downplaying thorny issues straining Baloch-Islamabad ties.

Since Balochistan’s establishment as a province in 1970, it has predominantly witnessed rule by Islamabad-backed tribal elites. In the period from 1970 to 2023, Balochistan experienced civilian rule for only 28 years, with countrywide parties governing for approximately 22 years (82 per cent), leaving ethno-regional parties with a mere six years (18pc). Countrywide parties like the PML-N, PPP, and PTI have remained primary conduits for the traditional sardars and newly emerging electables, generally hailing from the mercantile class. They have switched political allegiances frequently. Despite their penchant for political nomadism, these turncoats find ready acceptance in the very parties they had deserted previously.

Ruling through electables has hindered parties’ organic growth.

In the current scenario, the influx of electables into the PML-N raises eyebrows about the party’s strategy for the restive province. Given the proclivity, and proven track record, of these electables to change political loyalties opportunistically, the PML-N leadership should prioritise the medium- and long-term goal of cultivating a genuine support base among the masses. Of all the parties, the PML-N should know better that these electables are trustworthy neither in the short nor medium term.

It was only in 2018 that the PML-N chief minister in Balochistan, Nawab Sanaullah Zehri, was deserted by more than two-thirds of his own party members in support of a no-confidence motion filed by the opposition. Requiring a simple majority (33 votes) to continue as Leader of the House, the PML-N, with 21 members in the provincial assembly, should have comfortably thwarted the motion with the support of coalition partners whose combined strength was 25. However, it couldn’t retain the loyalty of even nine out of 21 members and collapsed like a house of cards. Despite this experience, the PML-N leadership appears reluctant to learn from the past. The opportunistic and inconsistent behaviour of countrywide parties to­­wa­rds political turncoats ren­­­ders them susceptible to ex­­ternal ma­­­nipulation when political fortunes reverse.

This policy of ruling the province through electables has hindered the organic growth of political parties and fostered the growth of non-partisan, predatory political behaviour in the province.

Further, it has fostered and cemented patronage-based provision of public goods and services at the expense of systemic reforms and service delivery. Lastly, it has weakened the public accountability of elected representatives, who increasingly rely on state patronage rather than popular support to enhance their chances of re-election.

In conclusion, the embrace of proven turncoats carries damaging implications for both political culture and public service delivery. Moving forward, the countrywide parties and the ruling elite in Islamabad, at the minimum, must acknowledge their complicity in Balochistan’s crisis of political leadership rather than shifting the blame onto the province’s citizens.


The writer is a public policy and development specialist from Balochistan.

X: @rafiullahkakar

Published in Dawn, November 16th, 2024

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

THE SENSIBLE BALOCH
Journalist and writer Sajid Hussain was living in exile in Sweden when he disappeared in 2020; later, his body was found in a river.



Mohammed Hanif 
Published November 10, 2024
DAWN


LONG READ

Dear Sajid,
I received the first section of your novel-in-progress and I am writing to give you feedback as I promised all those years ago.

Like most struggling novelists, you are late with this. I received it four years after your death. A friend you had shared it with, forwarded it to me. We sometimes talked about the problems of writing novels and joked that most novels die in the third chapter. You have come up with the ultimate twist: rather than letting your novel die in chapter three, you killed the author.

As we writers know, sometimes it’s easy to start a sentence but we struggle to finish it. When I say you killed the author, I don’t know whether I am talking fact or fiction or even common sense. We also know that it’s a bad writing practice to start making lists when describing a dear one’s departure from this world. But I’ll go ahead and list all the possibilities, although they all lead to the same conclusion: that you are not here anymore to take this feedback, accept it, reject it, or just laugh at it.


Journalist and writer Sajid Hussain was living in exile in Sweden when he disappeared in 2020. Later, his body was found in a river. Swedish police closed their investigation by saying that it was death by drowning. His friend Mohammed Hanif writes to give him feedback on a recently discovered manuscript Sajid was working on…

A. You met a tragic accident in a city called Uppsala in Sweden, you fell and drowned in a shallow river called Fyris.

B. You self-exited, as the kids say these days. You wrote yourself out of your own life’s story by drowning in a cold river in Sweden.

C. You were abducted, disappeared and killed by the very forces you ran away from, because you had reasonable doubt that these people one day might kill you. Because they had abducted and killed your uncle and then his son and many others you knew, we knew, many more we didn’t know.

Initially, some of our friends did try to treat the genre of your death as a murder mystery, but there’s been utter disbelief and such overwhelming grief that we wouldn’t speculate on the circumstances of your exit, and talk about the story that you were trying to tell, and the story you were living.

As I promised, I’ll give you some constructive feedback, although you might turn around and say that it’s a bit late, that you don’t need it anymore, because you are up there in the heavens, giving your own feedback to Allah saaien about the big bad book of our lives.

Amongst friends, when we joked that you were the most sensible Baloch young man around, we weren’t really joking. You had one clear mission in life: you didn’t want to become a missing person. You were adamant that you didn’t want to be abducted, tortured and then have your body dumped on the roadside.

You had reasons to be apprehensive. Many of your friends and relatives had gone missing, sometimes for years, and then returned as dead bodies, with little slips of paper with their names in the pockets of their tattered clothes. Their torturers and killers were human enough that they wanted these bodies to be returned to their families. A body dumped on the roadside was an act of mercy, permission to mourn and move on. “The missing haunt me more than the dead,” you often said.

Sometimes, it seemed you weren’t really scared by the prospect of being abducted and put in a dark dungeon, you were wary of the pointlessness of the whole thing. How would Baloch struggle benefit from your abduction? How would the life of a poor Baloch improve if you let them burn your body with cigarettes, like they often did with the missing persons? And, of course, you knew that if you were to end up a missing person, your abductors were not likely to give you books to read or a notebook to scribble notes for your novel.


If you had gone missing in Pakistan, we would know where to look. We wouldn’t find you, but we would make Panaflexes with your pictures, petition the high courts, a group of family and friends would gather outside the press club, there would be candles, press statements, protests. But what do we do when someone goes missing in Sweden?

You did the most sensible thing that any young Baloch man should do, at the first hint of trouble: you left the country abruptly, without any elaborate goodbyes, in a hurriedly packed suitcase. Being alive and homesick and sad in exile was obviously a better choice than to become a missing person in your own land.

Not becoming a missing person was your first mission in life. Another one was that you wanted to write a novel. Many of us journalists harbour the desire that one day we’ll write a book. You weren’t sure what novel, but whenever we talked, you said you were working on one, that it was difficult but it was coming together. When I repeated that joke about novels dying in the third chapter, you said you weren’t there yet, so you were safe.

Four years after your death (still not sure if to call it an accident, a suicide or a disappearance and murder, so let’s just stick to editorially neutral ‘death’) I received the opening chapters of your unnamed novel. You had emailed it to a friend with a note that if anything happened to you, he should share these chapters with your daughter.

But yaar Sajid, you were a very sensible young man and had made sure that nothing would happen to you. You had made sure that you would not go missing. That your mutilated body would not be found on the roadside. You had gone far, far away from your beloved Balochistan, where these things happened and continue to happen.

You might interrupt me here and say, ‘Stop talking about my life and death and stick to your feedback.’ But as one of your favourite writers, Vladimir Lenin, said, ‘What is to be done?’ Your novel remains unfinished, the book of your life has ‘*The End’* written over it.


Sajid Hussain’s corpse was recovered from the Fyris River in Sweden on April 23, 2020 | Facebook



For feedback, the first thing I want to say is that, if you had written your last days into your novel, no reader, no editor would have believed it. You didn’t want to go missing. You did. In Sweden of all the places. You didn’t want to end up a mutilated body. You were found in a shallow river, 50 days after your disappearance. We never got a last glimpse of your face. I write to conjure up that not yet disappeared face, brooding but about to break into a half smile, sparkling eyes, not yet obliterated by the weight of an obscure European river’s water.

Before you did the sensible thing and left Pakistan, you were mostly like us, the crucial difference being that you were Baloch. Your career path was similar to many Baloch young men of your generation. You got involved in nationalist politics as a student, joined BSO [Baloch Students Organisation]-Azad, became its information secretary for a while, and started a magazine.

You were a misfit in nationalist circles, as you refused to follow blindly, you questioned everything. The leadership sometimes described you as a fifth columnist when you disagreed with them publicly. On Baloch militancy, you often angered your comrades when you said, “Yeh ghareebon ke bachay marwaayein gey [They’ll get the children of the poor killed.]”

Then you disentangled yourself from politics and became a journalist, first an assistant editor and reporter with The News and then with the international wire agency Reuters. You were amongst that endangered species of Baloch men who, if educated and had some kind of compulsion for plainspeaking, were likely to get abducted, go missing for years and for their body to be found on the roadside.

You had lived their stories. You had covered these stories and you were determined that you wouldn’t become one such story. You were generous while sharing your knowledge about Balochistan. You betrayed no grand passion, there was no bitterness, and you had hard facts and cold analysis.

When you became a reporter, you left your nationalist politics outside the newsroom and dazzled us with an occasional scoop. I remember that Karachi morning when we woke up to your byline on the front page, with a cracker of a story. Gwadar Deputy Commissioner Abdul Rehman Dashti goes for dinner at a friend’s house. An argument happens, the host shoots the deputy commissioner, calmly walks off and disappears into thin air.

You named the man as Imam Bheel, a drug baron whose name appeared on the American FBI’s ‘Most Wanted’ list. You managed to tell his story in the most matter-of-fact way. Two old friends. A dinner. A shooting. And here’s the name of the man you can’t catch. At that time, not many journalists knew who Imam Bheel was. The readers can Google away and find who Bheel is because this really is not his story. It’s yours.

You also had that other uncommon disease amongst journalists. You had the book bug, one of those rare journalists who are found hunched over a book during their newsroom breaks. In conversations, you quoted Franz Kafka and Frantz Fanon and many Baloch writers we had never heard of.

Much later, you wrote in an essay from exile that you started drinking too much tea to get ulcers, because you read somewhere that Kafka had ulcers. You harboured the desire to go into exile because your literary hero Gabriel Garcia Marquez had. But you really didn’t want to go into exile, you were happy dreaming of exile. Then they came looking for you. And you didn’t hesitate. As we used to joke, you had seen this film too many times. You left.

There’s no point recounting the years of exile in Oman, UAE and Uganda where, for a while, you worked for a trucking company. You had said it’s a good job for a writer: between counting trucks and inspecting their tyres, you can read and write.

You called up one day and asked for Asma Jahangir’s phone number. Someone close to you had been abducted. I was surprised you didn’t have Asma Jahangir’s number, as she was the first port of call for the families of the missing. You said you were not interested in chasing missing people and you wanted to study and teach the Balochi language.

Your exile dreams finally came true. You got asylum in Sweden, were about to start a Masters degree on the Balochi language, got a side gig as the director of a Balochi dictionary, reunions with your wife and children only months away.


A rally against enforced disappearances in Balochistan held at the Karachi Press Club on October 4, 2023: Sajid Hussain had often reported on and written about the issue of missing persons | White Star



And then you disappeared.


You’ll agree that not many writers can pull off a twist like that and get away with it.

You had one purpose in life, not to become a missing person. And now you were on the list of Swedish Missing Persons. How do people go missing in Sweden? Voluntarily, we found out. People get bored with their lives, throw away their phones and credit cards and disappear into the mountains.

If you had gone missing in Pakistan, we would know where to look. We wouldn’t find you, but we would make Panaflexes with your pictures, petition the high courts, a group of family and friends would gather outside the press club, there would be candles, press statements, protests. But what do we do when someone goes missing in Sweden?

We prayed and made lists. Here’s a list of possible scenarios that we drew up after your disappearance:

1. Sajid has fallen in love and eloped with someone, leaving his past life behind.

2. Sajid is staging an elaborate hoax, making us feel how the friends and families of missing persons feel. Since we have become insensitive to their plight, he wants us to remind us, once more, that the missing haunt more than the dead.

3. Like a panicked writer, fearing no writing time as a full-time student and a family man, Sajid has got a cottage in the mountains and decided he wouldn’t come down till he has finished a first draft.

Fifty days after our wishful speculations and prayers, when your body was found, we had nothing but bewildered tears. In their grief, your family and friends were responsible citizens of Pakistan — they didn’t even once accuse Pakistan’s establishment. Some of your friends speculated, but the family was asked to and gave it in writing that all they wanted was to bring their boy back home and bury him in his village.

You probably didn’t know this, we definitely didn’t know, that you were so important that the family needed security clearance before bringing your body back. Pledges were given, good records as good citizens were presented but, for a whole month, you were not allowed to come back.

Never have we felt more helpless than when we left your body in a cold storage at an airport in Sweden and waited for someone in Islamabad to sign a paper. First, you were in a watery grave for 50 days and then in a makeshift morgue for more than a month. In Karachi’s sweltering heat, we shuddered with shame at one of our own lying in an airport cold storage.

As we have already established, you were a sensible man. You would have laughed at our shame: I am dead now so what does it matter what the temperature in the airport’s cold storage is? Who cares how many days have passed?

Sometimes, when a novel manages to survive the third chapter death, writers use flashbacks, again not a recommended device, but you, Sajid, haven’t left us much choice. Your life is one long flashback.

Before you became a stranded body at Stockholm Arlanda Airport’s cold storage facility, you reported on other Baloch bodies, their journeys. One of these stories was about Haji Razaq Sarbazi. You called it ‘Evolution of a Dead Body.’ Like you, like me, Sarbazi was also a journalist who wanted to write books. He worked for the Baloch daily Tawar and was abducted one day.

This was a good time for families of the missing, because they were allowed to speak up at press clubs, at the Karachi Arts Council, and at an occasional literature festival. There was a seminar going on about and by the families of missing people at Karachi Arts Council. Razzak’s family, five or six women, including two young girls, stood outside the hall, with folded-up banners. They were new to the role of being the family of a missing person, but they had learnt fast. They had got Panaflexes with Razzak’s picture, but they weren’t sure what to do with them — how to put them up, how to unfold them.

They had gone to the Karachi Press Club, the home of all the missing persons’ families, and someone had sent them to this seminar. They were invited in. They sat and listened for a while. Then they got up and said this is all very well for you to have seminars, but Razzak has been gone for three days. They were probably thinking what families of missing persons think in the first few days: that their man is not a missing person.

“Razzak just went to work and didn’t come back, there must have been some mistake, can we stop all these discussions and do something to bring him back?” his sister shouted at the people in the hall.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take Razzak long to come back. Three months later, a body was found in a sewerage near Surjani Town. The family was contacted, the family saw the body and declared that it wasn’t him. His face was so mutilated that they didn’t recognise him. While reporting the story for Reuters, you contacted the family and were relieved that it wasn’t our colleague Razzak.

Going back and forth on the story, you remembered that you had spent an evening with him, laughing your head off as he read you his Balochi translation of The Evolution of Mankind, as Razzak had invented his own Balochi expressions for complex anthropological terms.

One day you are laughing at someone’s bad translation, choking on smoke in a Lyari room, and on another, you are making calls to his family, to check if they have identified his body. There was confusion because two Haji Abdul Razzaks had been missing. Razzak’s family finally identified him from the few clothes left on his body. This is what you wrote in ‘Evolution of a Dead Body’:

“But I still think that Razzak’s sister and family must have had their moments of suspicion that the body they buried was really that of Haji Abdul Razzak Sarbazi or Haji Abdul Razzak Marri.” You said that those who abduct them “are kind enough to leave a note on the dumped bodies bearing the name of the victim, making it easy for the relatives to identify their loved ones and stop searching for them. This kindness worked for many years.” But now that more than one person of the same name are missing, the abductors “should also leave a photo of the victim along with the note bearing the name.”

It’s not surprising that your novel is set in Balochistan. As they say, you can take the boy out of Balochistan but…

In the beginning of your novel, in a hospital in Turbat, an angry crowd is gathering, trying to identify the bodies of the missing and dumped. The about-to-retire Medical Superintendent (MS) of the hospital is thinking of a business plan to set up an ice factory, to supply ice to the hospital’s overflowing morgue. Other workers at the hospital are hatching their business plans for using hospital ambulances as taxis for the dead and to buy donkeys. Maybe you didn’t have to write more of this novel because not much has changed.

Inside the hospital, mutilated bodies and business plans. Outside, an angry crowd wanting their dead back with some dignity. Only if we knew how this terrible, tragic story will end. Only if you, the master of deadly twists, were around to give a happy ending to this haunting story.

The writer is the author of five novels, including the upcoming Rebel English Academy.
X: @mohammedhanif

Published in Dawn, EOS, November 10th, 2024

Sunday, November 10, 2024

PAKISTAN

Dream of political stability

In their efforts to maintain ‘political stability’, the rulers have bypassed parliamentary integrity.

Published November 10, 2024 
 DAWN




IT is often believed that engineering political stability is the solution to a nation’s economic and security challenges. The idea of this so-called stability is used to justify the suppression of dissent, stifling of political opposition, and the disregard for democratic principles and transparency in societies. Recent developments in Pakistan seem to prove this observation correct.

The ruling elite has a firm grip on power, and has successfully bypassed parliamentary integrity in its attempt to maintain ‘political stability’. The media often portrays serene images and photos and footage of cultural events in major cities, suggesting that all is well. Yet, sceptics argue that addressing the basis of Pakistan’s political turmoil is necessary for this manufactured calm to find its way to true stability.

Pakistan’s rulers have long lived under the delusion that they can consolidate their grip on power by manipulating parliament and the judiciary; in the process, they often sideline the consent and representation of political parties and rights movements. Such movements and parties are seen as peripheral because they seek certain rights and privileges in exchange for taking part in legislative business. The Balochistan National Party (BNP) of Sardar Akhtar Mengal and the National Party of Dr Abdul Malik are examples of this.

However, the rulers only consider the demands of such parties if their support is crucial for passing laws. The means employed to secure BNP’s votes for the passage of the 26th Constitutional Amendment is one recent example.

Since independence, power politics in Pakistan have always revolved around personalities. This has led to the entrenchment of dynastic politics, which not only weakens political and democratic institutions but is also heavily responsible for failures of governance. These dynasties resist the establishment only when excluded from power; mostly, though, they are not averse to collaborating with each other and sharing power. In this arrangement, the establishment’s influence has grown. Political dynasties remain content as long as their political and business interests are secured.

There is an undeniable nexus between power politics and the economy; power-sharing directly influences economic reforms in all sectors — ranging from agriculture and industry to services. Meanwhile, the challenges faced by marginalised groups and rights movements are linked to internal security, which is often overlooked by the ruling classes. The latter’s illusion of having secured political stability will remain an illusion until voices from the peripheries are accommodated.

Describing these movements and dissenting voices as having been tainted by foreign influence or being traitorous has not addressed the core issues; instead, actions by security institutions driven by such perceptions have compounded the challenges. The economy, particularly in terms of foreign investment, is still very fragile, and can be further affected by deterioration of the security situation.

Political instability in Balochistan and KP’s merged districts has triggered discontent, providing insurgents and terrorists the space to exploit local grievances. Data from the Pak Institute for Peace Studies on recent terrorist activities in the country highlights the concerning expansion of militant influence, especially in KP and Balochistan. In October alone, 100 lives were lost in 48 terrorist attacks — 35 in KP, and nine in Balochistan, and more minor incidents in Sindh and Punjab. These regions have become focal points for militant operations, and reflect a dangerous strategy by these militant groups to destabilise areas where operational freedom may be greater due to geographical or sociopolitical factors. Though less frequent, incidents in Punjab and Sindh signal efforts to expand influence beyond traditional strongholds.

The BLA’s recent vehicle-borne suicide attack targeting Chinese nationals in Karachi exemplifies this tactic, indicating an attempt to disrupt crucial economic partnerships. Similarly, militants from the TTP are reportedly pushing into Balochistan’s Pakhtun belt and parts of Punjab, including districts bordering KP such as Mianwali. This suggests a calculated plan to broaden their reach.

As militants attempt to regroup and to increase their violent tactics in KP, local communities have become very vocal about their fears. Protests have persisted for months since the Taliban’s resurgence in Swat and the surrounding areas. Residents, often supported by social and political groups, have organised rallies, gatherings, and jirgas to express their concern at the re-emergence of militant groups and the rising arc of violence in their areas. They have also been vocal about their distrust of the government and security forces, and have criticised their inability to ensure durable security. This growing disillusionment underscores the urgent need to adopt a more comprehensive approach to counter violence and public grievances.

The PTM’s jirga last month highlighted the growing frustration of marginalised communities with contentious state policies on counterterrorism, resource distribution, and political rights. Similarly, the presence of the Baloch Yakjehti Council is an indicator of the growing concern in Balochistan with the ruling elites’ management of provincial affairs.

Our ruling circles must broaden their political perspective to genuinely include peripheral political and rights movements, including those from Balochistan, KP, and Sindh, in the national discourse.

Many of the rights movements have appeared willing to negotiate and work within the existing political framework if respectfully approached by a government that has genuine intentions. A serious, inclusive dialogue could pave the way for meaningful reforms and reduce discontent. The ruling elite’s commitment to such an approach would signal a shift from superficial gestures to a more sustainable, participatory model of governance.

Given our rulers’ assertion that Pakistan is now on the path of stability and economic growth, there should be no hesitation on the government’s part to engage dissenting voices from Balochistan and KP. Sadly, our history is witness to the fact that whenever Pakistan appears to stabilise, the arrogance of the power elites tends to rise. This pushes the country back onto a slippery slope. The post-9/11 economic growth, for example, eventually dissipated due to Gen Musharraf’s misadventures in Balochistan and the creation of a judicial crisis. Power circles must rethink their approach.

The writer is a security analyst.


Published in Dawn, November 10th, 2024

Saturday, November 09, 2024

BALOCHISTAN

Railway station blast in southwest Pakistan kills at least 25

At least 25 people were killed, including several soldiers, when a blast ripped through a train station in restive southwestern Pakistan on Saturday in an apparent suicide attack claimed by a local separatist group.


Issued on: 09/11/2024 -
Security personnel inspect the blast site after an explosion at a railway station in Quetta, in Pakistan's Balochistan province, on November 9, 2024. © Banaras Khan, AFP


A bombing claimed by Pakistani separatists killed 25 people including 14 soldiers at a railway station in the southwestern Balochistan province, police said Saturday.

The blast hit as passengers waited on a platform at the main railway station in the provincial capital Quetta.

"Fourteen army personnel are among the 25 confirmed dead," said Muhammad Baloch, a senior local police official, raising an earlier toll of 22 provided by the local government.

An AFP journalist saw pools of blood and ripped backpacks at the scene, where a large metal sheet protecting passengers from the elements had been blown off.
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An AFP journalist saw pools of blood and ripped backpacks at the scene. 
© Banaras Khan, AFP

A spokesperson for a local hospital said dozens of people wounded in the blast had been brought to the facility, along with multiple dead.

Despite frequent attacks in Balochistan the toll of Saturday's blast was particularly high for the southwestern province, which borders Afghanistan and Iran.

The train station explosion hit at around 8:45 am (0345 GMT) and was claimed by the Baloch Liberation Army (BLA), one of the area's main separatist groups.

The attack "was carried out on a Pakistani army unit at Quetta railway station... after completing a course at the Infantry School," the BLA said in a statement.

The Associated Press of Pakistan, the official news agency, cited railway officials as saying the blast happened near the ticket booth when two trains were scheduled to depart.

Resource-ri
ch, poor province

Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif condemned the attack.

"The terrorists who have harmed innocent and unmarked civilians will pay a heavy price," he said in a statement from his office.

The BLA frequently claims deadly attacks against security forces or Pakistanis from other provinces, notably Punjabis.

At Quetta station, police said they were working to determine the cause of the blast.

Firefighters and rescuers work through abandoned luggage on the platform, guarded by heavily armed members of the security forces. © Banaras Khan, AFP

"When we reached here, initially it appeared that some explosive had perhaps been hidden or left in the luggage. But now we think it may be a suicide bomber," Baloch told journalists.

Firefighters, rescuers and passengers were working through abandoned luggage on the platform, guarded by heavily armed members of the security forces.

Militants have in the past targeted energy projects with foreign financing – most notably from China – accusing outsiders of exploiting the resource-rich region while excluding residents in the poorest part of Pakistan.

In August, the BLA claimed responsibility for coordinated attacks by dozens of assailants who killed at least 39 people, one of the highest tolls to hit the region.

(AFP)


Death toll rises to 26 in Quetta Railway Station blast, 62 injured

Abdullah Zehri 
Published November 9, 2024 
DAWN

People comfort each other as they mourn the death of their relatives, who were killed, after a bomb blast at a railway station in Quetta on November 9. — Reuters

People walk amid the debris after a bomb blast at a railway station in Quetta on November 9. — Reuters

At least 26 people were killed and 62 injured after a suicide blast ripped through a Quetta Railway Station on Saturday, local authorities and hospital officials said.

The incident comes a week after a bomb blast near a girl’s school and a hospital in Balochistan’s Mastung district killed eight people, including five children.

Pakistan, particularly the Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa provinces, has seen a sharp uptick in terrorism-related incidents over the past year.

While speaking to Dawn.com, provincial health department spokesperson Wasim Baig said that the death toll rose to 26 after two people succumbed to their injuries while 62 others were injured in the explosion.

Quetta Division Commissioner Hamza Shafqaat said that the blast was a “suicide attack” primarily on law enforcement agencies, while civilians were also targeted.

Shafqaat added that gatherings have been banned in the area while bus stations were on high alert, adding that railways have been requested to close the station and suspend train services.

Speaking to Geo News, he said that besides civilians, “some law enforcement” personnel were also martyred.

According to Reuters, Balochistan Inspector General of Police (IG) Moazzam Jah Ansari said, “The target was army personnel from the Infantry School.”

While Baig did not confirm details about personnel to Dawn.com, AFP quoted him as saying: “Fourteen members of the army and 12 civilians were killed.”

Baig, according to AFP, said 46 members of the security forces and 14 civilians were wounded.


This photo shows the aftermath of a blast at Quetta Railway Station on November 9. — Photo via author

According to a list of injured people shifted to Quetta Trauma Centre and Emergency Department — issued by Managing Director Dr Arbab Kamran Kasi and available with Dawn.com — 53 people aged between 20 and 50 years were wounded.

Six of them were stated to be in a serious condition whereas three had been shifted to an intensive care unit.

The banned militant group Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA) has claimed responsibility for the blast.

Pakistan Railways had previously announced the restoration of train services between Quetta and Peshawar from Oct 11, after a suspension of more than a month and a half.

Train services had been suspended across the country on August 26 after a key railway bridge between Kolpur and Mach was destroyed in a blast carried out by BLA as part of province-wide coordinated attacks.
Appeal for blood

Speaking to Geo News, Shafqaat said the blast occurred at approximately 8:25am, adding that the body of the suicide bomber had also been identified.

He appealed to the public to donate blood for the wounded, stressing there was a need for it.

The commissioner also urged the public not to head to the railway station, Quetta Trauma Centre or the Civil Hospital, noting that “in such incidents, there is a risk of twin attacks”.

“Right now, we have cordoned off the city and are conducting snap-checking. […] Gatherings have been banned,” Shafqaat said.

Asked if the blast specifically targeted someone, the commissioner said terrorist organisations “attacked soft targets on purpose out of frustration”.
Emergency imposed in hospitals

Balochistan Heath Minister Bakht Muhammad Kakar was present at the Quetta Trauma Centre to oversee the treatment of the injured, a statement by his office said.

It added that an emergency had been imposed in the Civil Hospital and the Trauma Centre, with more doctors summoned on duty.

Earlier, Quetta Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Operations Mohammad Baloch told reporters that “around 100 people” were present at the site, according to footage seen by him.

He added that at the time of the blast, a Jaffar Express train was reportedly ready to depart from the platform for Peshawar.

Police and security forces had reached the site of the incident, according to a statement by Balochistan government spokesperson Shahid Rind. He said the Bomb Disposal Squad was collecting evidence from the site and a report had been sought on the incident.
‘Continuation of targeting innocent people’

Balochistan Chief Minister Sarfraz Bugti condemned the incident, saying it was a “continuation of targeting innocent people”.

In a statement, CM Bugti said, “The terrorists’ target now are innocent people, labourers, children and women. Those targeting innocent people do not deserve mercy.”

According to the statement, the chief minister has ordered an investigation into the blast and contacted top officials in Balochistan.

CM Bugti further said: “Terrorists are not eligible to be called humans. They have fallen from humanity; they are worse than animals.”

Stating that “elements involved in various terrorist incidents” in the past have been traced, he vowed that the perpetrators behind the railway blast would be caught as well.

CM Bugti reiterated the government’s resolve to continue operations against terrorists and pursue them. “We will root out terrorism from Balochistan,” he asserted.

Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif strongly condemned the blast, praying for the deceased and the speedy recovery of the injured.

He also sought an investigation report from the Balochistan government on the incident, the premier’s statement added.






“Terrorists who harm the lives and property of innocent people will have to pay a heavy price,” Radio Pakistan quoted PM Shehbaz as saying.

Acting President Yusuf Raza Gilani also condemned the incident, expressing his grief over the loss of precious lives, Radio Pakistan reported.

Gilani said terrorists were enemies of humanity who target innocent people.

Both Shehbaz and Gilani reiterated Pakistan’s commitment to eradicate the menace of terrorism.

Interior Minister Mohsin Naqvi, in a telephonic conversation with CM Bugti, condemned the blast, expressing heartfelt sympathy and condolences to the families of the deceased.


In a post on X, the ministry said that Naqvi expressed complete solidarity with the families of the affectees.

The pair agreed to take joint and effective measures immediately against the anti-state activities in the province.

“Will go to the last extent to establish peace in Balochistan […] The federation will provide all possible support to the Balochistan government in this regard,” the interior minister said.

Sindh Home Minister Ziaul Hasan Linjar, while condemning the attack, assured the Balochistan government of “all possible support and cooperation”.

The police in Sindh were also ordered to remain on high alert in light of the terrorist attack, a statement from the Sindh interior minister’s office said.
Rise in terrorism

In 2023, Pakistan witnessed 1,524 violence-related fatalities and 1,463 injuries from 789 terror attacks and counter-terror operations. Overall fatalities, including those of outlaws, mark a record six-year high.

Terror attacks declined by 24 per cent in September compared to August, but they witnessed surges in August and July, according to monthly security reports.

On September 25, at least two policemen were among a dozen people injured by a bomb attack that targeted a police vehicle in Quetta.

Days later, terrorists armed with automatic weapons stormed an under-construction house in Panj­gur, killing seven labourers hailing from Multan.

The next day, armed men attacked the camp of a private construction company in the Musakhel district, torching the machinery and vehicles there. No casualties were reported.

Last month, three security personnel were martyred and four others were injured in a roadside bomb blast in Balochistan’s Kalat area.

This is a developing story that is being updated as the situation evolves. Initial reports in the media can sometimes be inaccurate. We will strive to ensure timeliness and accuracy by relying on credible sources, such as concerned, qualified authorities and our staff reporters.

Additional input from AFP

Thursday, November 07, 2024

Which ideology?

Published November 8, 2024 
DAWN


OF all the congratulatory messages which poured in from the world’s political leaders when it became clear that Donald Trump had, in the end, quite comfortably defeated Kamala Harris in the US presidential election, the tweet by Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari stood out. The young scion of the PPP called Trump’s victory an anti-war vote, reflecting the desire of the US electorate for global peace.

The reference was obviously to Palestine and the ongoing Israeli genocide which has been backed unflinchingly by the Biden-Harris administration. But Trump did not win because he is anti-war. Some voters may have punished Harris over Palestine, but the Democratic Party’s failings extend beyond foreign wars. Bilawal’s pleasantries about a peaceful future for the world were also hyperbole because Trump is anything but a man of peace.

The real quandary is making sense of how Bilawal, who claims to be ‘progressive’, is making common cause with an arch-conservative in Trump.

Let there be no mistake: Trump is not about to dismantle the huge military-industrial complex that undergirds US imperialist power across the world. Among other things, Trump is firmly committed to Zionism, and is unmistakably anti-China.

But it is also not to be understated that Trump has spouted consistent rhetoric about unnecessary spending on wars abroad — his slogan of ‘Make America Great Again’ reflects a relatively insular vision involving less war-making around the world, blocking immigration, and generating industrial jobs by rolling back outsourcing and offshoring.


The far right is tapping into the rage of working people.

The far right thrives on slogans, of course. Trump did not do a lot of things he had claimed he would during his first term. But this is all the more reason for us to think about why certain slogans continue to garner him — and many other similar political leaders — the support that they do. The fact that a far-right Republican leader is able and willing to call for a rollback of America’s foreign wars is an indicator of how muddled the contemporary ideological landscape has become.

Ideological confusion is reaching fever pitch in this country too. Look no further than Bilawal and the PPP — a leader and party that still claims, every once so often, to be committed to leftist ideals. When election season rolls around, the slogan ‘roti, kapra aur makan’ magically reappears. Even the word ‘socialism’ sometimes drips off the tongue of PPP leaders. The party also burnishes its other ‘progressive’ credentials like its opposition to the weaponisation of religion and its unparalleled commitment to democracy.

But these claims have virtually no connection to the PPP’s actual politics. At present, the PPP and PML-N are competing to prove their loyalty to the military establishment. The PPP runs the Balochistan government which is presiding over the continuing brutalisation of Baloch youth. A few weeks ago, the Sindh government ordered a violent crackdown against progressives who were protesting the mob lynching of a doctor in Umerkot, Sindh. Earlier, Ali Wazir — who is now doing rounds in Punjab’s jails — spent months incarcerated under the watch of the Sindh government. And as far as Pakistan’s internal class war is concerned, the PPP makes no bones about the fact that it is far more committed to the IMF, big landed families, real estate moguls and other profiteers than it is to the proverbial worker and peasant.

Let’s take this analogy back to America. The preliminary details about who voted for Trump and Harris are remarkable insofar as they confirm that the Democratic Party — with its co-mparatively pro-labour history — has largely abandoned the working class, the latter voting in significant numbers for Trump. Even non-white Latino and Black working peo-ple rejected the Democratic Party des-pite Trump’s persistent anti-immigrant rhetoric.

Once upon a time, to be on the left meant to oppose unbridled capitalist profiteering, imperialist wars and to stand with the lower orders of society. Today, it is the far right that is rhetorically aligning itself with such positions, and successfully tapping into the rage of working people by peddling hate. Meanwhile, the historic social-democratic parties who could once claim to represent the class rage of the lower orders are left only to appeal to a vacuous identity politics and lament the racism and misogyny of the right.

Is there still the possibility of an ideological politics of a left-progressive vintage that reclaims class and imperialism from the hatemongers while also offering meaningful horizons on other pressing matters like the ecological crisis? We must hold out the hope that there is, but such a politics will only crystallise when the so-called ‘pro­­gressive’ old guard is exposed and displaced by genuinely anti-establishment forces.

The writer teaches at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad.

Published in Dawn, November 8th, 2024

Friday, November 01, 2024

PAKISTAN

TikTok bandits terrorise, transfix Katcha lands

Online gangs lay “honey-traps” to lure and kidnap victims, parade hostages in clips, exhibit weapon arsenals.





AFP Published November 1, 2024

With a showman’s flair and an outlaw’s moustache, the Pakistani gangster dials the hotline on his own most wanted notice — taunting the authorities who put a bounty on his head.

Staring down the lens in a social media clip, Shahid Lund Baloch challenges the official on the phone and his thousands of viewers: “Do you know my circumstances or my reasons for taking up arms?”

The 28-year-old is hiding out in riverine terrain in central Punjab which has long offered refuge to bandits — using the internet to enthral citizens even as he preys on them, police say.

On TikTok, Facebook, YouTube and Instagram he fascinates tens of thousands with messages delivered gun-in-hand, romanticising his rural lifestyle and cultivating a reputation as a champion of the people.

But he is wanted for 28 cases including murder, abduction and attacks on police — with a 10 million rupee ($36,000) price on his head.

“People who are sitting on the outside think he is a hero, but the people here know he is no hero,” said Javed Dhillon, a former lawmaker for Rahim Yar Khan district close to the hideouts of Baloch, and other bandits like him.

“They have been at the receiving end of his cruelty and violence.”


This photograph taken on October 9, 2024 shows elite police personnel patrolling on a sandy island along the Indus river, in the ‘Katcha lands’ at Rahim Yar Khan district. — Arif Ali / AFP


Backwater with bandwidth

Baloch is said to dwell on a sandy island in the “Katcha lands” — roughly translating as “backwaters” — on the Indus River which skewers from top to bottom.

High-standing crops provide cover for ambushes and the region is riven by shifting seasonal waterways that complicate pursuit over crimes ranging from kidnapping to highway robbery and smuggling.

At the intersection of three of the four provinces, gangs with hundreds of members have for decades capitalised on poor coordination between police forces by flitting across jurisdictions.

“The natural features of these lands support the criminals,” said senior police officer Naveed Wahla.

“They’ll hide out in a water turbine, move in boats, or through sugarcane crops.” Sweeping police operations and even an army incursion in 2016 failed to impose law and order. This August, a rocket attack on a police convoy killed 12 officers.

“In the current state of affairs here there is only fear and terror,” said Haq Nawaz, whose adult son was abducted late September for a five million rupee ransom he cannot afford.

“There is no one to look after our wellbeing,” he complains.


In this photograph taken on October 10, 2024, Haq Nawaz, whose adult son was abducted by bandits, speaks during an interview with AFP in Rahim Yar Khan district. — Ghulam Hassan Mahar / AFP


But the gangs are increasingly online.


Some use the web to lay “honey-traps” luring kidnap victims by impersonating romantic suitors, business partners and advertising cheap sales of tractors or cars.

Some parade hostages in clips for ransom or exhibit arsenals of heavy weapons in musical TikToks.

Baloch has by far the largest online profile — irking police with a combined 200,000 followers.

Rizwan Gondal, the head police officer of Rahim Yar Khan district, says that his detectives have a dossier proving his “heinous criminal activities”.

“Police have made multiple efforts to capture him however he escapes,” he added.

“He’s a very media savvy guy. Let him say, ‘I am going to surrender before the state to prove that I am innocent’ and let the media cover it.”
‘Beloved brother bandit’

In his clips Baloch protests his innocence whilst casting himself as a vigilante in a lawless land, claiming he chose to fight only after family members were slain in tribal clashes.

“We couldn’t get justice from the courts so I decided to pick up arms and started fighting with my enemies,” Baloch told AFP.

“They killed our people, we killed theirs.” But he also plays off the cycle of state neglect which breeds banditry and in turn relegates the destitute farming communities further to society’s fringes.

“The villagers here are not viewed as human but as animals,” Baloch told AFP.

“If they gave us schools, electricity, government hospitals and justice, why would anyone even think of taking up arms?” In comments sections his viewers call him “beloved brother bandit” and a “real hero”.

“You have won my heart,” claims another.

“He is popular in the mainstream because he is giving the police authorities a tough time,” said former lawmaker Dhillon.

“People like that he says the things they can’t say out loud against people they can’t speak out against.”


This photograph taken on October 9, 2024 shows an elite police personnel monitoring security at a post on a sandy island along the Indus river, in the ‘Katcha lands’ at Rahim Yar Khan district. — Arif Ali / AFP


Robbed of followers


Police have proposed countering bandits by downgrading mobile phone towers to 2G in the Katcha lands, preventing social media apps from loading.

That has not yet happened and would risk cutting communities off further still. But more low tech solutions have had some success.

An anti-honey trap police cell cautions citizens against the gangs with the help of billboards and loudspeakers at checkpoints entering the area, preventing 531 people from falling prey since last August, according to their data.

Baloch scoffs at police. But one problem plaguing his bid for online stardom has his attention.

Copycat social media accounts pretend to be him and share duplicates of his videos — earning thousands more followers and views than his legitimate accounts.

He feels robbed. “I don’t know what they are trying to achieve,” he complains. But for police, his internet hero status is at odds with the toll of his crimes.

“People will idealise Shahid Lund Baloch but when they ultimately get kidnapped by him, then they will realise who Shahid Lund Baloch really is,” said senior officer Wahla.

Header image: This photograph taken on October 9, 2024 shows elite police personnel patrolling on a sandy island along the Indus river, in the ‘Katcha lands’ at Rahim Yar Khan district. — Arif Ali / AFP