The
Karachi question: Ethnicity or extremism?
People chant slogans against the Taliban at a rally in Karachi. - AP
Once again, Karachi is burning, and everyone has a theory. On April
29, at least 34 people were killed in an escalating wave of violence
across the port city. Most of the dead were Pathan, though the
Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) also claimed losses. Even before
funeral processions were organised and the last fires were doused,
politicians began finger pointing.
Speaking from London, MQM chief Altaf Hussain appealed for peace,
indirectly blaming the Taliban for the recent urban violence. He
claimed that criminal elements belonging to the land and drug mafia
were stirring trouble with the support – in the form of arms and
money – of the Taliban. Meanwhile, Pakistan Muslim League chief
Nawaz Sharif hinted at the ethnic dimensions of the clashes,
pointing out that Karachi’s residents were being pitted against each
other as part of a larger plot. For his part, Minister of State for
Ports and Shipping, Nabeel Gabol, claimed that the fighting had been
instigated by a ‘foreign agency’ that is working in collaboration
with a religious party.
Outside political circles, there is an assumption that this week’s
killings are the result of a long-standing ethnic rivalry between
Karachi’s Urdu-speaking and Pashto-speaking communities. Newspaper
reports, for example, have described the clashes as ‘ethnic
violence’ and city police chief Wasim Ahmed even split up
Wednesday’s
death toll as ‘16 Pathans and three Urdu-speaking people.’What
explains the resurgence in Karachi violence? Is it an attempt by the
city’s ethnic stakeholders to drawn new battle lines? Or are the
recent clashes somehow connected to the broader militant threat that
Pakistan is currently wrestling?
The politics of militancy
For almost a year, the MQM has been warning against the
Talibanisation of Karachi. The party’s cautionary rhetoric gained
resonance when the MQM became the only political force to resist the
passage of the Nizam-i-Adl Regulation, which has established qazi
courts in NWFP’s Malakand division. In all their anti-Taliban
speechifying, MQM leaders are careful to point out that they are not
targeting an ethnic group. As Naib Nazim Nasrin Jalil puts it,
‘Pashtuns are not all Taliban, but some of them are harboring the
Taliban. It’s impossible to identify militants from others.’
But members of Karachi’s Pashto-speaking community argue that the
MQM is making no effort to distinguish between honest workers and
militants. ‘The MQM is playing up the issue of Talibanisation for
political gain,’ says Ameen Khattak, the secretary general of the
Awami National Party (ANP) in Sindh. They’re trying to attract the
attention of the international community while pursuing their hidden
agenda.’
In fact, ANP officials claim that the threat of Talibanisation in
Karachi is being over-stated by the MQM. They point out that the
Pashto-speaking community, which has been targeted by Taliban
militants in Pakistan’s tribal and northern areas, is most at risk.
‘Who will they kill first?’ asks Khattak. ‘They’ve killed 150 ANP
workers in Swat and will do the same in Karachi.’ He adds that the
ANP is determined to stave off the extremist threat: ‘We have
assured the MQM that if they provide specifics of Taliban influence
in the city, we’ll work together to combat the Taliban.’
The Taliban factor
While they disagree about the extent to which Karachi has been
Talibanised, MQM and ANP leadership do agree that militancy is on
the rise in Pakistan’s commercial hub. Party leaders on both sides
admit that fund-raising for militant activities is rampant. MQM
chief Hussain’s comments that the Taliban is now enmeshed with the
local land and drug mafia point to the well documented fact that
militants and criminals have joined hands to carry out robberies and
kidnappings, the gains of which are used to finance terrorism in the
northern areas and Federally Adminstered Tribal Areas (Fata).
Indeed, officials of the Criminal Investigation Department (CID)
have stated that over one billion rupees have been raised by
criminals in Karachi over the past two years to finance jihad. The
Citizens-Police Liaison Committee has also confirmed that ransom
money in many high-profile kidnappings is being collected in Fata.
Faisal Sabzwari, an MQM leader and the Sindh minister for youth
affairs, adds that ‘land grabbing in the name of religion’ is also
on the rise. In this context, ANP’s Khattak admits that some members
of the Pashto-speaking community are connected with the Taliban
through ‘chanda’ (alms). ‘People based in Karachi may be paying off
the Taliban to keep their families in the northern areas safe,’ he
explains.
Beyond criminal activities, both MQM and ANP leaders point to the
resurgence of banned sectarian outfits such as Jaish-e-Mohammad,
Laskar-e-Taiba and Lashakar-e-Jhangvi as the biggest threat facing
Karachi (particularly in the wake of last November’s Mumbai
attacks). As a police officer stationed in Karachi’s Sohrab Goth
puts it: ‘The Taliban are only in Karachi to the extent that they’re
reaching out to militants who have been based here for decades.’
According to the CID, there are over 5,000 trained militants with
ties to banned militant groups currently stationed in the city.
Since the leadership of these militant groups trace their origins to
the Punjab and Siraiki belt, how has an ethnic clash between
mohajirs and Pathans hijacked the conversation about urban
Talibanisation?
Drawing battle lines
In recent months, MQM party workers have been mobilizing, by their
account, to ward off the Taliban threat. Hussain has called for
Karachiites to arm themselves and take up martial arts training.
Naib nazim Jalil adds that MQM has reinstated a ‘chowkidari’ (neighbourhood
watch) system in mohajir localities. ‘Our activists are physically
protecting their areas,’ she says. Moreover, the City District
Government Karachi has requested that Rangers and paramilitary
personnel be deployed in sensitive spots across the city. On another
level, MQM has increased vigilance across the city. ‘No other party
can boast the grassroots level set-up that the MQM has,’ says
Sabzwari. ‘We have been involved in ground-level information
collection for some time now. Our people let us know what’s
happening in their areas.’ He explains that MQM activists monitor
unusual activities at mosques and note the presence of foreigners or
strangers in different neighbourhoods. Noteworthy information is
then passed on to the Sindh and federal governments.
Karachi’s Pashto-speaking community views this mobilization as an
attempt to consolidate MQM’s stranglehold over the city and target
the Pathan population. ‘There are between three and four million
peace-loving Pathans in Karachi,’ says Khattak. ‘But the MQM is
watching them all as if they are criminals, pretending to be on the
look out for the Taliban.’ He points to several areas where MQM
activists or security personnel have in effect cordoned off Pathan
areas from the rest of the city. ‘If things go on like this, Karachi
will be the next Beirut. The city has already been carved up and the
battle lines are being drawn.’MQM’s leadership rejects Khattak’s
analysis of the situation. ‘It’s not an ethnic issue,’ insists
Sabzwari. ‘It’s a criminal issue. It’s an issue of law and order.
What can we do if the criminals happen to come from Pashto-speaking
localities? Is it my fault if Baitullah Mehsud’s right-hand man was
caught in Karachi?’ [Badshah Deen was arrested in Karachi’s Sachal
area on April 13.] He adds that ANP is giving a simple law and order
situation an ‘ethnic run’ so as to consolidate its vote bank.
Caught in the crossfire
Either way, it is Karachiites who end up dead. Anayat Khan, a fruit
seller at Bacha Khan chowk in Karachi’s Benaras area, says a
‘political game’ is under way. ‘There are no Taliban here,’ he says.
‘We listen to music, we have functions, our women go shopping. The
only people we have to fear are the workers of a certain political
party.’ Meanwhile, across town, Naeem Hussain, a resident of
Azizabad, shakes his head. ‘The city is completely shut down, even
though the end of the month is so important for business. We’re just
trying to live our lives … I don’t know who to believe anymore.’
Dawn.com
Huma
Yusuf :Thursday,
30 Apr, 2009
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