Schools of terror

STUDENT politics in Karachi has seen many dark moments, beginning with the first killing of students in the early 1950s. After two quiet decades following General Ziaul Haq’s ban on student activism imposed in the ’80s, carnage may be returning to our campuses. The last month has seen three major outbreaks.

On August 15, a violent clash between the Islami Jamiat-i-Talaba (IJT) and Punjabi Students’ Association (PSA) left two dead and five injured. Another flare-up on Sept 12 between the All Pakistan Muttahida Students’ Organisation (APMSO) and IJT killed five and on Sept 17, the Federal Urdu University of Arts, Sciences and Technology (Fuuast) witnessed an exchange of fire between the IJT and the APMSO, where no students were killed but a few were injured.

As major campuses across the city open amid fear and uncertainty, the warring parties remain caught in conflicting views on what happened. Despite the fact that his organisation is implicated in all three incidents, Mohammed Riaz of the IJT does not hesitate to imply that the administration of Karachi’s largest university is hand in glove with both the APMSO and the Rangers.

“They know about such incidents before they occur. We are victimised because the administration favours the APMSO and the Rangers support the PSA,” says Riaz. “There is only one FIR against the APMSO and four against us,” he says.

Riaz claims that members of the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) are present in the campus security force and in departments such as the social work faculty. “The head of the social work faculty speaks directly to the governor and not the vice-chancellor. In Sir Syed University and the Aligarh Institute, armed students patrolled the premises when MQM’s Faisal Sabzwari was with Z.A. Nizami.”

Riaz also says that on the inauguration of the botanical gardens, “the governor had a meeting with the VC along with three members of the APMSO.”

Meanwhile, Wasim Aftab of the APMSO is adamant that his party’s name was deliberately dragged into the battle between the IJT and the PSA.

“The IJT has this history. We had moved up our Peace Day to Sept 12 because of Ramazan and in the middle of our preparations, the IJT attacked us,” says Aftab. “They think they are khudai faujdar. It is inexcusable that they beat up Mehwish from the international relations department and now claim that there is no such student in the institution.”

Aftab also accuses the IJT of kidnapping and torturing APMSO workers. “This is why we retaliated. In places such as the Government College of Technology, we cannot even enter because of their hold,” he says.

Surprisingly, the ban on student politics remains in place as does the heavy deployment of the Rangers, who have spent 18 long years in Karachi University.

“With the presence of the Rangers, we are able to follow the academic calendar and it is because of them that the Sept 12 incident occurred outside the premises,” says Khalid Mehmood Iraqi, head of campus security. Iraqi maintains that it is the responsibility of political leaders to prevent the political climate of the city from affecting educational institutions.

“Coordination is required to make education a priority and if the approach was academic, then there would be no need for the Rangers,” he explained.

Iraqi also vehemently refuted the IJT’s allegations against the administration.

“There is absolutely no such evidence. Also, the governor’s visit was a scheduled one and no student was present there.”

The prevalent relationship between violence and student politics has often rested on blame games and remained largely unaddressed by successive governments. Today, the fight for social change or the struggle for political causes is little more than brutal power tussles. However, their worst victims remain the students. Their hostels are randomly vacated to clear political strongholds, leaving countless undergraduates with nowhere to go and for others, postponed exams push their goals further into uncertainty.

These fierce episodes are indeed harbingers of disaster; a bloody tale set to repeat itself with blood, violence, and remorse as its only legacy.

reema.abbasi@dawn.com

Islamabad’s peace at all time low

The locals of Islamabad have always been accused of living within a surreal bubble uncommon to the rest of the country. In recent years, however, it seems that they have faced a rise in security concerns. Both public and private security concerns plague the city. Though Islamabad is relatively safer compared to the other cities of Pakistan (so far), the residents are for the first time feeling threatened about their public and private security.

The Lal Masjid siege, the blockade of roads between the twin cities during the anticipated arrival of Nawaz Sharif, the bomb blasts in Marriott, Aabpara market and F-8 Markaz are all calamities that have occurred in just under a year. Simultaneously, the increase in local street crimes such as theft has only exacerbated the situation. For the first time terrorism and theft have been the chief concerns of security.

Terrorism has brought forward serious disruptions to the daily life in the capital. For the first time, in the last eight months, offices were forced to shut down during the Lal Masjid siege; residents nearby were forced to live without electricity, water and gas supply under a staunch curfew. Lately, strikes due to security threats have been common during which shops, educational institutions and offices were forced to close. Besides, transportation interruptions between the twin cities have been an inconvenient common. Police sirens have marred the cities peaceful silence.

On a normal day, amongst the routine activities, the site of an army official peering over the fort of sandbags, pointing their guns straight at the cars is an unruly and unfair sight. In addition, a number of police checkpoints at significant intersections stands as a constant reminder that the city is no longer safe.

Despite this, the people of Islamabad are making an unimpeded effort to continue with their daily life. The residents are forced to barricade their minds to remain as distant as possible from the deteriorating security. No one will deny the anxiety felt when entering hotels and public places - there is simply no control when the delusional terrorist will strike again for his fatal beliefs. This is why there is little choice but to remain apathetic towards the uncontrollable public insecurities; apathy maybe the only path to live normally without the sense of looming despair.

While the city adapts to its changing and unforeseeable public insecurities, the public has simultaneously begun to deal with the rising crime rate. For there is an element of presumptuous control. For the first time, there is a tangible feeling of threat towards private property. The increased report of house robbery has shaken many. Almost every house in the capital is protected by uniformed guards. Some houses have gone a step further with high rise front walls and barbed wires. For those who can afford it, there are CCTV cameras at the gate. It is now common to go through a series of questioning before being permitted to enter a close friend’s house. First there is a round of introduction followed by an explanation of the visitor’s intent. The procedure is concluded once the guard disappears into his cabin to seek permission from those inside the house. Once permission is granted, the gate is opened and the childhood friend enters the fortress.

Are such stringent forms of security so necessary? Are these measures of protection simply a case of bourgeoisie paranoia or has security really deteriorated? Or are these guards simply a status symbol? Whatever maybe the reason (though it may be a combination of the above), the fact that makes itself constantly apparent is that Islamabad is no more the senile peaceful city that many grew up in, or heard about. There is an increase in crime but worst of all Islamabad has now become the victim of terrorism. A commendable effort on the part of the locals: never before have they endured a feeling of insecurity in the capital yet no one is prepared to comprise on it. It seems that Islamabad has finally become a part of Pakistan.