ANOTHER week, another violent incident and another wave of outrage.

The lawyers’ attack on the Punjab Institute of Cardiology, in Lahore, was, unarguably, horrific, indicating that we, as a society, have hit a new low. But within the larger story are subplots which we have all seen before. And these subplots help explain why we witness such violence time and again.

Beginning at the beginning of this particular story, it is said that it originated with a lawyer who took a loved one to the PIC for treatment. During the visit, there was an altercation between the staff and the lawyer which ended in the latter being beaten up.

How many times have we heard this story before? Ugly fights over alleged negligence of medical staff are a dime a dozen in our society; they tend to become violent and at times even firearms are involved. It is hard to remember a time when such stories did not make headlines in our press, long before television; decades have passed, along with martial laws and civilian rule, and yet it has continued. No one has ever bothered to explain why this happens, why it should not, and how to stop it.

Medical practitioners in Pakistan should be careful; no one can disagree with this but surely they should not live with the constant threat of violence at their workplace. But it’s an issue that is rarely highlighted, not even when a mob attacks a hospital.

The revolutionary spirit may have been lost along the way but the righteous zeal remains in all its ugly glory.

No wonder we have no answers on ensuring that doctors are sued for negligence, instead of being beaten up or named in a criminal FIR.

Back to Lahore and the PIC — the lawyers too resorted to an FIR against the PIC staff; but there was no action on their ‘un-satisfaction’, it is said, and neither did the informal sulah-safai (peacemaking) help. So, the lawyers decided to march to the hospital and did much worse than ‘blow the house down’.

In pictures: Day of terror, violence as lawyers storm Lahore cardiac hospital

And here, the second subplot kicks in: the complete inability of the police and various governments to deal with protests. To collect and protest is a right; violence by a mob is not. And yet, when the first transforms into the second, our law-enforcement personnel are usually found wanting. And no one — despite the outrage — knows what they should have done.

Should the protesters not be allowed to collect in the first place? Or should they be stopped only once they turn violent? But, how do you stop violent protesters on the rampage, without turning them into victims?

Indeed, we have seen this again and again. From the Faizabad dharna to teachers demonstrating in Karachi now and then, to 2014 when the dharna wallahs entered the red zone — those in authority have never been able to disperse a crowd peacefully. The only time, perhaps, it happened in living memory was when the troops were able to get the PTV headquarters vacated without damage to machine and man. But then, we all know how that turned out. (Though, the Faizabad dharna was one example where sections of society would not have flinched had the right-wing protesters been brutally dispersed; it wasn’t done because other quarters were concerned about their well-being.)

Last week in Lahore was no different and future protests will probably not follow a different path.

And then, there are the lawyers, the villains of the moment — for in Pakistan, we find new villains with every new crisis. Angry, evil men who have and will destroy all those in their path. And stories of their violence have been coming our way since the heady days of 2007. The revolutionary spirit may have been lost along the way but the righteous zeal remains in all its ugly glory.

But why did they become this way? There is no clear, simple answer.

A few, however, have provided some nuanced explanations such as the rapid addition of new, young lawyers to the bars, compelling us to ask, if there is enough work for all these men. Because if there is not, credibility, legal work and professional progress as a lawyer will matter very little. In the absence of this, more and more people will resort to bar politics, which in turn will be identified with strikes and violence. For if legal work is not available, the young lawyers will use the bars and collective action to acquire social clout.

This, too, is a subplot we have heard many times before. The lack of employment opportunities and economic opportunities pushes young men into organisations where collective violence is used to gain social, and economic, clout.

This is not to condone the lawyers’ behaviour but to simply say that there is a reason we see so many examples of collective violence, which should concern us as a society. But in order to realise this, we would need to recognise the parallels, instead of focusing on the lawyers in isolation.

And the last oft-repeated subplot highlighted by the PIC incident is our never-ending lust for vengeance. Everyone is baying for the blood of the culprits, as we did a few weeks ago for a child molester, or a few years ago for terrorists. Indeed, our solution for any criminal act is harsh punishment, assuming that it will act as a deterrent.

But we never stop to think if it will solve the problem? Will it stop wukla-gardi, or violation of the law by lawyers? Or other protesters who turn violent? Or is it just the easiest answer to come up with in the midst of an outrage. Our reactions are as predictable as the stories we witness time and again. Perhaps, it’s easy to not pay attention to the subplots for they remind us of our own mistakes.

The writer is a journalist.

Published in Dawn, December 17th, 2019