The lengthening shadow of Lal Masjid
By A.R. Siddiqi
ARE the nation and the armed forces drifting apart in a hostile mode? Could the two, proverbially like two hearts in one body, be viewed as approaching a state where harmonious coexistence within the bounds of the Constitution and the law might be becoming increasingly difficult — each with a different heartbeat and pulse rate?
Does the Lal Masjid crackdown, in any way, epitomise the widening divide between the army and the nation and a bridge too far linking them? Would it be hard to deny that the army and its sartorial armour, the uniform, never showed so many chinks as to become a target of public protest and anger?
I was shocked beyond belief to read a boxed item in an English daily headlined: ‘No uniform in public’. The text ran as follows:
“President Musharraf directs armed forces personnel not to wear their uniform in public in the NWFP for fear of a backlash from the Lal Masjid operation.”
I remember painfully a similar order or advice issued in 1971 to the Dhaka-based troops not to wear uniform outside the limits of Fortress Kurmitola or our Forward Defended Locality (FDL) in army jargon.
The NWFP, the land of the proud Pathans, accounts for no less than 35 to 40 per cent of our regular forces plus an estimated 100,000 of the paramilitary Frontier Corps, officered entirely by the Pakistan army, both at the commissioned and the junior-commissioned (JCO) levels.
Besides, the province is home to a large number of our celebrated infantry regimental centres — the Punjab, Frontier Force and the Baloch regiments. Risalpur and Kakul (Abbottabad) are home respectively to the PAF Academy and the Pakistan Military Academy (PMA). The Nowshera cantonment is home to the armour and artillery schools besides several other training centres, including the Army Service Corps (ASC) Centre — the largest of its kind as the main hub of logistics.
That is as far as the settled districts are concerned. As for the tribal areas, Razmak and Wana, both in Waziristan, are rated as two of the best cantonments in the NWFP. In a reversal of the British forward policy, both were vacated by the regular troops under the orders of the Quaid-i-Azam early in 1948.
The province as a whole has been historically the hub of the military forces and the centre of recruitment. The very air across the land breathes of a soldierly process and tradition.
That the uniform, a Pathan’s badge of honour, should become anathema and a source of personal insecurity in his own home province must engage serious attention of the military high command. The assault on the Lal Masjid, in the heart of the capital, could not but have deeply upset the ordinary soldier, mentally and emotionally.
While the Lal Masjid episode bears no comparison to the Indian army crackdown on Amristar’s Golden Temple, certain similarities cannot be overlooked. Both had been the target of concentrated military operations killing the ring leaders, the Sikh zealot Jurnail Singh Bhindaranwalla in the Golden Temple and Abdul Rashid Ghazi in the Lal Masjid.Both added a chapter to the annals of martyrology — relatively less in the case of one belonging to a secular Indian state than to the Islamic (and increasingly jihadi) Republic of Pakistan.
Operation Blue Star was launched on June 6, 1984, under the command of Lt. Gen (General and Indian army chief) Sunderji, General Officer commanding-in-chief (GOC-in-C of the Western Command). However, interestingly, the man who actually led the assault on the temple was said to be one Lt. Col Asrar Mohammad Khan, brother of the late Lt. Col Ahsan Mohammad Khan of the Pakistan army.
Holed up in the temple like Abdul Rashid Ghazi in the Lal Masjid, Bhindaranwalla was killed exactly in the same way as the latter would be 23 years later in Islamabad.
The storming of the temple by the Indian army regulars touched off a wave of Sikh fury and militancy throughout Indian Punjab and much of the rest of the country. Bhindaranwalla, said to be a protégé of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi herself as her man to control Sikh
irridentism, turned into a Sikh martyr and became in death a living symbol of the Sikh revenge against a Hindu prime minister.
Barely four months later, on October 31, 1984, Mrs Gandhi’s personal bodyguard, a Sikh, in her own home, killed her in cold blood to assuage Sikh fury and redeem the community’s vow of revenge against the desecration of the Golden Temple.
Operation Blue Star is history, and one only hopes it does not repeat itself. However, it would be hard to deny Lal Masjid its place in the pantheon of Masjid Shaheed Ganj and the Babri mosque to name just two.
In Pakistan, any form of violence against a mosque, for whatever reason, amounts to sacrilege. The reality, no matter how unseemly, must be faced by the government of the day and those to follow. The hard question for the authorities to consider as an essential part of the postmortem procedure should relate to the following aspects of the July 10 assault.
First, the use of maximum force after the failure of a haphazardly conducted negotiating process, more minatory than persuasive in tone and substance — the message being surrender or face the bullet.
Second, the apparently dismal failure of the intelligence services — civil, military and joint services — under their very nose and within their visual range. How did such an enormous amount and range of arms like anti-personnel, anti-tank mines, rocket-propelled grenades, AK-47s etc. with ammunition find their way — over several weeks or months — into the mosque undetected and unaccounted for?
Third, the massive building activity going on with the construction of as many as 175 rooms (official figure) inside the Hafsa building and in its basement without a trace of this being detected.
Fourth, the PR (PTV) side of the burqa-clad Maulana Abdul Aziz, the pesh imam of the mosque, facing the camera after his surrender. The grilling interview the maulana was put through by an interviewer with written questions in full view outraged his younger brother, Abdul Rashid, and prompted him to refuse to surrender.
Fifth, PTV’s coverage of the cache of arms found inside the mosque and the Hafsa building, arranged and polished as neatly as during an inspection of the quarter guard or a unit armoury.
Sixth, the effort to draw a line between the regulars and paramilitaries used in the military operation launched to control the violence across the NWFP following the Lal Masjid incident. The effort (that was largely counter-productive) to save the image of the military at the cost of the paramilitaries, mainly the Frontier Corps, proved in vain. In the public perception, anybody in military uniform belongs to the Pakistan Army regardless of his exact status as a regular or paramilitary personnel.
The question to resolve, in the first place, concerns the dignity and the status of the army as a national institution and its principal security shield. Secondly, and more importantly, is the seminal problem relating to the civil-military equation and the nature of the working relationship between the two.
Besides, shouldn’t the Lal Masjid operation have been planned and carried out by the GHQ alone — without any reference to the parliament if only to meet a constitutional requirement? This could, perhaps, be overlooked in the case of the on-going anti-terror operations across the tribal area, but certainly not in the case of a mosque in the heart of the national capital.
Last but not least is the point relating to the devastating impact of the weeklong stand-off and the eventual storming of the mosque on the minds of a thickly-populated residential area in the centre of the national capital. The stench of the dead bodies alone pervading the area was said to be enough to make one feel sick.
The writer is a retired brigadier.

