The political discourse around change in Pakistan revolves around eradicating corruption, mismanagement, administrative inefficiency, and dishonesty but seldom around divorcing violence from politics.
On December 27, 2007, a suicide bomber murdered the first female prime minister of the Muslim world, Benazir Bhutto, in Rawalpindi’s Liaquat Bagh, and permanently altered the course of Pakistani politics. It was not the first time that the place had become associated with bloodshed. Liaquat Ali Khan, the first prime minister of Pakistan, was shot twice at the same place on October 16, 1951, a mere four years after the creation of the nation.
The striking similarity between the two cases, other than the location of the crime scene, was the manner in which justice was obstructed in the aftermath, drawing concerns from all quarters. From the hanging of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto to the mysterious plane crash of General Ziaul Haq and the assassination attempts on General Pervez Musharraf, Pakistan is all too familiar with violence.
Today as we talk about an assassination attempt on the life of former Prime Minister Imran Khan, the country grieves, not necessarily in support of his political rhetoric, but for the fact that Pakistani politics is now synonymous with violence and intolerance.
The attempt on his life has done little to sway Khan, who is still as determined to demand snap elections and lead the march to Islamabad -- just like the first attempt on Benazir’s life, two months before her death, was not able to dampen her spirits till her last day.
When violence is used as an instrument of power, democracy suffers the most. And violence thrives on polarisation — be it of the social or political variety.
However, the situation is highly concerning. Political violence is not a distinctly Pakistani phenomenon either — the murder of President John F. Kennedy shook the US society and politics to the core; Martin Luther King, the civil rights activist, was brutally murdered while standing on a hotel balcony; Mahatma Gandhi, the founding father of India, was fatally shot in the chest three times at point-blank range. In the wake of increasing polarisation in the American society, the January 6 Capitol storming by Donald Trump supporters, and incidents of right-wing violence, President Biden recently warned Americans that ‘democracy is at risk.’
The beauty of democracy lies in popular dissent. When violence is used as an instrument of power, democracy suffers the most. And violence thrives on polarisation — be it of the social or political variety. While Pakistan is no stranger to targeted killings and bomb attacks, this should not translate into apathy or indifference to violence of any kind. Political violence does not start with suicide bombings or targeted assassination attempts; it takes root in popular discourse, in the national and provincial legislatures in the form of minute scuffles, in the marketplace amid rejection of conflicting thought.
This normalisation of extremism is problematic and often starts with the dehumanisation and demonisation of political opponents and radicalisation of supporters. When people who do not think like you, act like you and live like you become caricatures to be hated, society faces discord, mass hysteria and a breakdown of social order. From the use of violence by local and regional powers to gain power and autonomy from the center, to sectarian and religiously-motivated violence, from state-sponsored jihad against the Soviet Union to gain favours from the US to the condemnable handling of the Model Town incident, all have one thing in common —they give way to more violence and bloodshed.
Khan may have escaped immediate danger, Pakistan’s democracy has not. The government and the judiciary must ensure that the perpetrator(s) are brought to justice. Because as long as the killers know they have impunity, they will not stop here. They will eradicate anyone who threatens their thinking and way of life. For politicians, this incident may serve as an eye-opener. Politics should be characterised by deliberation, constructive criticism, and conciliation, not bloodshed. The beauty of democracy lies in its literal meaning, ‘power of the people’ and people have diverse opinions and forms of political expression.
The writer is a BSc Philosophy, Politics and Economics student at the London School of Economics and Political Science and a published author. She can be contacted at: maheenrasul@gmail.com