ON this day last year, we watched in horror scenes of a brutal lynching. By all accounts, Mashal Khan was dedicated to speaking up for truth and justice — for this, not blasphemy, he was killed. Mashal embodied an optimism that is difficult for many of us to emulate as we witness our society continue its descent into an abyss of its own making. If the events of last year have taught us anything, it is that in this milieu of intolerance, none dare revisit a law that is often exploited and used as a proxy for material, not spiritual, gain. Even the courage to do so would perhaps make little difference at a time when vigilantes feel emboldened enough to perpetrate violence and coercive acts with impunity by claiming a monopoly on virtue. The chilling effect this has had is plain for all to see. Far from the complacent myth that such radicalism is confined to madressahs, Mashal’s death exposed the fact that all our institutions of learning — which ought to be safe spaces of enlightened and vibrant discourse — have become factories of unreason, fostering a suspension of critical thought and a peddling of unexamined, hateful assumptions. Those who question the status quo are, at best, branded malcontents or, at worst, silenced.

Mashal’s murder was also an indictment of the complicity and hubris of a state apparatus that believes it has absolute control over its social engineering toolkit, as though there are convenient levers on ratcheting public hysteria or exploiting religious sentiment. Through a combination of external pressures and internal introspection, the state finally appears to be willing to undo some of this wrong. But our country has undergone decades of brutalisation of our national psyche and erosion of our social contract. It will take decades more — and an unwavering commitment to uphold the rule of law and fundamental rights — for it to heal. One year on, we must ask again: what land do we want our children to inherit? Reflecting on the barbaric manner in which his own son’s life was snuffed out, Mashal’s father could have succumbed to the desire for retribution. Instead, he delivered this message: “There is a Mashal in every home.” This is both a commendation and a warning. Unless we have the grace and humility to mend our fractured polity and protect future Mashals, there may be no light left at the end of this long, dark tunnel.

Published in Dawn, April 13th, 2018