Now introducing ‘official terror’?
By Nusrat Nasarullah
While one sincerely hopes that Thursday’s peace walk by the Sindh Police brings peace and an inner calm as the holy month of Ramazan begins now, it would be in the fairness of matters to observe that Karachiites have their fingers crossed, are tight lipped, and burdened with more suspense and heightened tension. I do not want to use the word ‘fear’ for their state of mood.
As if the daily toll of cellphones snatched, and cars stolen or taken away at gun point, is a cause for anxiety and an everyday apprehension, there have come such stories that a police escort of a VIP killing an innocent man on Stadium Road; and that a lady doctor having been shot dead in Gulistan-i-Jauhar by ‘suspects’ during a handbag snatching incident. In their own ways, the details of both these incidents are scary, terrifying.
Or take the other incident that took place this week when, near Cheel Kothi, PECHS, police opened fire on two young men on a two-wheeler, late at night, when they did not stop, near a police signal. In that incident, one man died and Dawn report has quoted the TPO concerned as saying that the young man was innocent.
All this mentioned above, reflects the ambience of the Sindh capital, and precisely the degree of insecurity and downright fear that grips citizens when they are out on roads. Even a traffic jam can be a source of crime or a cause of it, and believe me, that for passengers in a rickshaw or a car or any other vehicle where the place is a traffic signal, the risk of criminals striking is high.
I want to bring in here the repeated stories that we all hear, occasionally, of how passengers in a mini-bus or a coach are looted at gunpoint by a couple of young men who would board the vehicle feigning to be fellow travellers. These buses are, at gun point, driven to some deserted place or, at times, even on the scheduled route, during which period the criminals execute their plan within minutes.
One Karachiite, with whom I talked about the issue of Karachi’s street crime, yet another time, linked the rise in street crime to poverty, to the tough economic challenges that the young people are facing. What about the affluent youth who are caught after they commit crime in upper class areas? I asked. He said that this was not the majority, and that these educated rich youth who took to crime were motivated by greed or a rebellion of sorts.
It is the street crime reflected through cellphone or car theft/snatching or such incidents that remain unreported that are growing indicators and mirrors of the economic conditions, and the dreams and desires to get rich quick. Then he said: “Have you seen the varying degrees of resentment and the shades of anger in the eyes of the lower classes when they are dealing with the affluent? The have-nots now believe that the haves made it through dubious, and perhaps downright, dishonest means. There is a class war as well, in addition to the war against terror…”
While it is reassuring to see that the authorities are attaching the highest priorities to ensuring that street crimes are brought under effective control, the public perception on what some of these recent incidents needs to be underlined.
With reference to the killing of an innocent man, a 26 year old Asif, by the escort police of a VIP, the obvious thought that arises relates to the way in which some of such escorts move on the city’s congested roads. I asked a young motorcyclist that how he felt on city roads when he heard of this incident. He smiled sheepishly to say that “I don’t stop when traffic cops stop me…they waste time…!” I thought of the risk such an attitude entails.
Onlookers can only presume that these VIP police escorts switch traffic lanes, and ignore traffic signals, and pressure the ordinary people, as a matter of routine. Either they fight their way through traffic jams and do not want to get trapped like ordinary citizens in the traffic chaos, or they are in some VIP hurry, they create panic on roads. Many citizens would wonder whether the VIPs are themselves aware of what a scene they are creating. Or, are they mindful of the image they are creating for the government?
After all, I would imagine that the government would want to have a fair and just image for itself. Can such policemen, who shoot to death someone coming in the way, do good to the image of the government? But then, don’t we know of instances, reported and otherwise, in this Pakistani society where power people, elitist people, people in office, and authorities, are known to have abused powers simply to push through with routine. We are not talking of corruption here, please note!
Now take the other instance mentioned above in which a young man, Zafar Hameed, was shot dead by police for merely ignoring their signal to stop on Tariq Road in the wee hours of Sunday. Should police shoot to kill someone or shoot to stop a vehicle? This young man was planning to wed after Ramazan. Look at the trauma of the family, and contemplate the brutal use of force. If not fear, what else can this generate?
And not just cops, but criminals too are out to kill to have their way. And once again a citizen lost a life, this time a lady doctor, Dr Shazia, in Gulistan-i-Jauhar, while she was buying fruit from a vendor. Now this sort of incident can take place anywhere in the city. This street scare that Karachi has is widespread. The citizen is vulnerable in Clifton and Defence, and in PECHS and North Nazimabad, in Sadder and even around the Club Road and Dr Ziauddin Ahmed Road, for that matter. And it doesn’t matter whether the areas are congested or lonely or what time of day it is.
Not entirely for understandable reasons, except for nostalgia, I want to refer to a column “The Last Word” that Naushaba Hussain (now Naushaba Burney) wrote in the Outlook on Jan 26, 1963. She wrote about Karachi and described it as “the unloved, beloved city”. She wrote of a city that no more exists, to say the least. The column reminded me of my school days when she said: “Thanks to its lack of tension, perhaps some of Karachi’s worst shortcomings have become its greatest assets.” Indeed we remember Karachi without tension. Remember and become sad, of course.
Let me sign off with what this philosophical Karachiite said on Friday night that “Karachi's great misfortune is that everybody wants to possess this city, but not own it.”

