SOMETIMES, it takes a friend's murder to put things in perspective, and to show us exactly where the battle lines are. Salman Taseer's brutal killing, apart from causing deep pain and grief to his family, friends and supporters, has again underlined the yawning rift in Pakistani society.

More than the assassination itself, the proud smirk on the killer's face, and the vocal support he has been receiving from a significant section of the media, lawyers as well as religious parties, shows us where Pakistan stands today. It is this hate-filled environment that has made rational discourse virtually impossible.

Lacking the intellectual tools to conduct a reasoned debate on the issues of the day, religious elements in our society cling to their rigid dogma, using threats to make their point instead of logic. For anybody who disagrees with them, murder is the automatic, default response. The fact that ideological killers are seldom punished encourages them further.

Salman refused to be cowed down by these bullies, and paid the price for his courage. But how many are willing to take a similar stand? Certainly none from the PPP. The ruling party has usually rolled over when it comes to taking on the religious right. Indeed, apart from Salman Taseer and Sherry Rehman, other senior members of the ruling PPP have ducked for cover whenever the controversial blasphemy laws have come under discussion. When Sherry Rehman moved a private member's bill to make these laws a little less iniquitous for the minorities, she received no support from her own party.

And while Nawaz Sharif, Altaf Hussain and Maulana Fazlur Rahman play politics to destabilise an already unstable government, they do not seem to realise that the enemy, represented by Mumtaz Qadri, Salman Taseer's assassin, is already within the ramparts of the state. No doubt Nawaz Sharif and the maulana think they can strike a deal with the likes of Qadri, but they should remember the fate of other politicians elsewhere who thought they could share power with extremists.

Much is being made of the fact that a fanatic like Qadri could be assigned to a VIP security team. But in today's Pakistan, this is the norm, not the exception. Our state schools as well as our madressahs have become breeding grounds for extremism. These ideas are then amplified across much of our media. This kind of constant brainwashing makes it hard for people to think independently and rationally.

Successive governments, both civilian and military, have shut their eyes to what is being taught at our educational institutions. Ditto for the sermons in many mosques that are in reality little more than incitement to violence. Ditto again for the retrogressive, anti-West propaganda that passes for informed debate on many of our private TV channels.

These are the real issues of our times, but given the growing street and media power of religious parties, few politicians are willing to even talk about them. It seems they have already conceded virtually all political space to the fundamentalists. Elected governments have been too ineffectual and too unsure of themselves to take on the religious right, while military dictators have sought to use them in a bid to gain legitimacy.

The result is the rapid growth of a hydra-headed monster that seems to have become too powerful for state institutions to decapitate. Another reason for this weak response to an expanding threat is the lack of a political consensus. Far too many politicians fear being labelled secularists — a pejorative term in our political lexicon — and thus do not want to appear opposing groups who claim to be motivated by faith. In reality, of course, they want power as much as all politicians do.

After Salman's murder, the blogosphere has been full of angry and anguished postings from people who were appalled by this evil act. Well-meaning people, they are trying to connect with like-minded bloggers to formulate a response to the tragedy. They were particularly indignant over a major Urdu newspaper's seeming support for the killer, as well as the religious groups who appeared to be threatening those mourning Salman's death.

The reality is that civil society is hopelessly outgunned by the forces of darkness. Abandoned by the state, and opposed by an implacable, well-armed foe, ordinary, peaceful citizens of Pakistan have few allies in this unequal battle. While people like Qadri, impatient to be in paradise, are positively itching to be killed, normal people would prefer to live out their allotted years in relative peace and security.

This difference in approach to life and death is one reason the jihadis have the wind in their sails. If even hand-picked cops can turn their guns on the people they are supposed to be guarding, what protection do ordinary citizens have? Another factor that multiplies the right's street power is that most of the angry, bearded faces you see on your TV screen demonstrating against virtually everything belong to people who don't really do anything. Whereas most members of civil society have real jobs, the rank and file of religious groups get stipends, or employment with local mosques that does not interfere with their activities as political agitators. Guardian

Declan Walsh, reporting on Salman Taseer's funeral for the , wrote: “As graveyard workers shovelled sticky winter clay onto the coffin, many Pakistanis wondered what was disappearing into the grave with the outspoken politician.” Guardian

Tolerance of any difference of opinion, for one. In the same issue of the , Mohammed Hanif wrote about a TV discussion in which both the presenter and a guest seemed to agree that the Punjab governor had been killed for his open criticism of the blasphemy laws. The implication was that somehow, Salman's views justified his murder. The same school of thought holds that Benazir Bhutto could have avoided her fate had she not stood up in her bullet-proof vehicle.

Both are typical instances of blaming the victim. By absolving the killers of their guilt, even mainstream media figures help to create an environment where murder is justified.

I first met Benazir Bhutto after her return from exile in 1986 at Salman's home where, at her request, he had invited PPP women workers who had suffered under Zia's martial law. Salman had also asked a few friends over to meet Ms Bhutto. Reflecting on that evening, I thought that two qualities the host and the guest of honour shared were courage, and an abiding respect for other points of view. May both of them rest in peace. irfan.husain@gmail.com