THE long-running feud between Pakistani security officials and the UN refugee agency over unescorted travel of foreign aid-workers in areas bordering Afghanistan has taken the gloss off the more laudable feats of the two sides.
The level of humanitarian operations launched by the United Nations High Commission for Refugees has closely corresponded with the niggling problems faced by Afghans in their own country as well as by their compatriots in Quetta and Peshawar.
During the past two months, the UN refugee agency has dodged political land mines, defied war conditions, survived US aerial assaults and coped with infrastructural disasters to distribute millions of tonnes of relief aid. These efforts are indeed commendable. In the same vein, our unsung local officials handled internal security — a major headache even during peacetime — in a business-like way and with precision, of the kind unseen when our North-western neighbour was in the grip of feuding Mujahideen leaders in the early 90s.
But most of the aid agencies working under the umbrella of the UNHCR are unimpressed, if not unnerved, by the security plan which effectively bars foreign aid-workers from venturing into volatile areas alone. Whatever trips they make must be undertaken in the company of state-appointed armed guards. Such an arrangement ought to please all parties concerned, specially the UNHCR. But the fact that it doesn’t, makes one pause for thought.
Even before the start of the US-led air-strikes on Afghanistan, the UNHCR had sought guarantees from key members of the counter-terrorism coalition on security arrangements for foreign aid-workers. That Pakistani officials satisfied this request within its borders must have come as a pleasant shock to both the nation and our foreign guests. The security structure was probably crafted as a single-purpose plan and then essayed through the multi-purpose but efficient data recording and profiling methods. When a visiting development worker or media representative fell afoul of the clear and present danger in border towns and villages, accusatory fingers went up against security personnel who were, for a change, blameless.
The result was that yet another litany of complaints was heard about the ‘lax’ security cover offered to foreigners. The government, chafed under the world NGOs, refrained and defended its law-enforcement machinery against the charge. The foreign men and women who came under attack in and around towns teeming with refugees or those caught in religious and internecine tribal conflict had failed to register themselves with local authorities. Those who did register and still got into trouble were mainly free-spirited individuals who travelled without informing their Pakistani coordinators.
These individuals invited trouble upon themselves as they ventured into areas that even locals were afraid to visit, according to the local staff of NGOs. “There was no question of them being assigned armed guards, for nobody knew where they had gone,” said a local aid-worker. “They certainly did not volunteer information about their travel plans and set off with their hired interpreters or guides in tow,” the aid-worker added. Then there were instances when the international relief officials, unknowingly, stayed beyond the date their visa allowed them to. For their indiscretion, they had to face the mass of bureaucratic measures that over-stayers in any part of the globe have since become familiar with.
Whether it was the scoop-hunting British journalist, Christina Lamb, or the conscience-driven health and relief workers of the world’s distress corps, the official regulations were flouted, and instead of earning condemnation for their acts they were condoned behind the smokescreen of inadequate security. This is not to suggest that the government’s strategy itself was without flaw. It faltered on two counts at least. The officials fatally miscalculated the exotic value with which their country was regarded by the western world and the keen sense of adventure that journalists and aid-workers from that part of the globe posses. They regarded the foreign office and Taliban ambassador’s briefings as dead boring and as such talks for the weak-kneed among them.
In pursuit of adventure, those individuals would be ready to wear burqas and traverse the countryside, as the Paris-Match reporter attempted to do until her arrest by the Taliban in October. Less intrepid individuals would go unescorted just for a first-hand look at the local arms bazaar, a poppy field or inside a religious party’s fortified headquarters. The advice of local aid-workers was often ignored, in the same way as the travel advisory issued by the US government was.
In principle, a coordinator’s task is to liaise with each foreign visitor, but clearly a much more sustained effort is required. A proper orientation programme ought to have been drawn up for the visitors. Such a programme would have identified the danger zones, the political boundaries and the social and religious sensitivities that had the potential to spark anger among the local populace.
How many western journalists cared to distinguish between refugees who crossed into Pakistan in the 80s and the fresh inflows of Afghans fleeing either their Taliban tormentors or the fierce bombing in the country? Not one media representative bothered to note the resentment welling in the eyes of the old refugees for whom assistance was both meagre and inadequate, compared to the new wave of refugees.
Nearly a decade ago, the Kurds, an unfortunate people with a greater claim to nationhood than some in the Middle-East, became the centre of attention, just as the Bosnians and Albanians later did in the same decade. By and by, the world lost interest and their problems were very much their own or so they realized.
Perception, or the lack of it, can make or ruin a news story. Few can question the accuracy or their painstaking fact-finding efforts. When non-westerners talk about the biased approach of international news organizations, what they usually mean is the western reporter’s lack of perception, nay, ignorance about their nations and peoples.
After all, not every reporter can be like Robert Fisk of The Independent whose sense of fair play and understanding of the non-western world is a beacon to all. Fisk’s attackers in Chaman, however, could not distinguish him from other westerners.
