Menaal Munshey

In 2006, angry mobs burned down two churches in Sukkur, my hometown in Pakistan’s Sindh province, after a Christian man was accused of blasphemy – the act of allegedly desecrating the Quran. One of those churches was attached to the Catholic school my father attended when he was a child. The day after it was attacked, we walked into the destroyed building, distraught, and joined our Christian friends as they wept.

Standing there, it was clear to me, as a 15-year-old Muslim girl, that something had diabolically shifted in our mixed Christian, Hindu, and Muslim community.

Over the years, I realized that the attacks in 2006 were not isolated instances in Pakistan. In August this year, an armed mob of 1,200 men torched 22 churches and attacked 91 homes, businesses, and graveyards, all belonging to Christians, in the town of Jaranwala in Punjab province. Once again, their rampage was fuelled by accusations of blasphemy against two Christian residents.

In May, a lawyer from the Ahmadi religious sect – which the government of Pakistan has persecuted and repeatedly failed to protect – was also arrested on a blasphemy charge. The lawyer was arrested because he had the word “Syed” – an honorific given to someone who can trace their lineage back to the Prophet Muhammad – in his name.

Put simply, the lawyer was accused of blasphemy because he had the wrong name. As with so many other cases over the last decade, his legal team was subjected to online harassment and offline violence, despite being respected members of the legal profession who were simply doing their jobs.

In light of the numerous cases that have been lodged against Christians, Ahmadis, Hindus, and Muslims throughout Pakistan over the years, it increasingly feels like none of us are safe from dubious blasphemy accusations.

There have been repeated calls for the repeal of the blasphemy law – from international human rights groups and Pakistani activists, advocates, and academics – but that remains unlikely as, especially in times of flagging popularity, politicians continue to make public pronouncements about their support for blasphemy legislation.

In the meantime, living with the status quo is untenable. For Pakistan to begin to address blasphemy-related vigilante violence and repair the schisms it creates, we need a society-wide effort – including action by the government, educational authorities, civil society, and the media – to confront blasphemy-driven narratives, build safeguards into the criminal justice system, and emphasize the religious harmony that generations before us took for granted.

The origins of Pakistan’s blasphemy law

By definition, blasphemy is the act of “insulting or showing contempt or lack of reverence for God” or something that is considered sacred. Blasphemy laws have been present in societies throughout history.

Pakistan’s blasphemy law was inherited from British colonial authorities, and it was later Islamised by General Muhammad Zia-ul-Haq, the military ruler of the country from 1978 to 1988 who was known for his hardline interpretation of Islam, and who hardened the law to include capital punishment.

“This violence, intimidation, and harassment shows that Pakistan’s blasphemy law lacks essential safeguards.”

Since then, the blasphemy law has led to violations of freedom of religion and belief through the intimidation of members of religious minorities, dissenters, converts, or reformers, and an exponential increase in blasphemy-related vigilante violence.

This violence, intimidation, and harassment shows that Pakistan’s blasphemy law lacks essential safeguards, such as evidentiary standards and robust witness protection – underlining why capital punishment, for starters, must be abolished.

The majority of blasphemy accusations, including the ones that led to the church burnings in my childhood home, stem from property issues or other personal vendettas, and too often they lead to mob violence well before there is any legal proof of guilt.

The most high-profile moment came in 2011, when Shahbaz Bhatti, Pakistan’s only Christian state minister at the time, was assassinated by the Pakistani Taliban in Islamabad after he spoke out against the death penalty for anyone accused of disrespecting the Islamic faith.

Bhatti’s killing came only months after Salman Taseer, the governor of Punjab province, was killed by his bodyguard after he spoke in defence of Asia Bibi, a Christian woman accused of blasphemy. Taseer’s killer, Mumtaz Qadri, an elite police commando, was hanged in 2016, but the execution led to protests by thousands of his supporters.

Former Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif alluded to the trend of blasphemy accusations being used in personal grievances in 2017 and called for the punishment of those who weaponise the law, but the accusations persist.

The way blasphemy laws operate in Pakistan negates the presumption of innocence and violates fair trial rights. Witnesses often refuse to articulate the alleged act of blasphemy for fear of committing further blasphemy, lawyers are afraid of representing an alleged blasphemer, and judges are afraid of hearing – let alone deciding – the case. In other words, the blasphemy laws effectively disempower the criminal justice system.

Fear, violence, and feeling like the ‘other’

Blasphemy-related violence occurs against the backdrop of a state struggling with its religious identity and living with cultural and legal legacies introduced during General Zia’s regime. This has led to an antagonistic and disconnected relationship between communities and an atmosphere of fear, intolerance, and discrimination felt by minority communities in Pakistan.

In 2015, I conducted criminological research on the phenomenon of blasphemy-related violence and found that citizens commit vigilante violence because they believe blasphemy is a crime that deeply affects their morality. Defenders of this type of mob violence often feel that, although blasphemy is legally prohibited, the state is ineffective in upholding the prohibition and therefore protecting their religious sentiments.

Privately, police officers told me the violence was wrong, but they also sympathized with the perpetrators and felt that some action was necessary to protect Islamic religious beliefs. A police officer in Sukkur said, “If your religion is insulted, it’s unbearable. We are an Islamic country; our religion should be respected. If it’s not respected, how can anyone tolerate it? These are raw human emotions.”

“It’s just a simple thing, in restaurants they keep a separate glass of water for non-Muslims and Muslims. You see this form of discrimination everywhere.”

Many police officers felt betrayed by the judicial and political systems, with their low conviction and high corruption rates. They themselves appeared distrusting of the judicial system, mirroring the sentiments of vigilante groups.

In 2022, Pakistan ranked 140 out of 180 nations in Transparency International’s corruption index and 129 out of 140 countries in the World Justice Project’s Rule of Law Index. Ultimately, Pakistan’s criminal justice system suffers from a crisis of legitimacy and mistrust, which contributes to the public’s violent response to blasphemy accusations.

For my study in 2015, I interviewed Christian friends I grew up with in Sukkur. I recently revisited our conversations, and it appears nothing has changed in nearly a decade. They unanimously describe feeling society is unequal and discriminatory towards them, something they are taught to be cognizant of from birth in order to protect themselves.

Yaqoub* ,a 40-year-old Christian man, told me in 2015 that some of his earliest memories are of feeling like an outsider, the “other”, in Pakistani society. “It’s just a simple thing, in restaurants they keep a separate glass of water for non-Muslims and Muslims. You see this form of discrimination everywhere,” he explained.

This sense of being an outcast in your own country has led many Christians to find ways to conceal or downplay their Christianity.

“Our names are purposefully Muslim-sounding, so we are not identified immediately. As soon as they know we are Christians, we don’t get the spot in school or university, or the job later in life,” said Adam*, who works in a school.

The fear of overstepping certain cultural lines has also led Christians to constantly monitor their speech, said Mariam*. “We teach our children that they must stay away from any talk of religion,” she said. “If in class a child is talking about a subject related to religion, you must not get involved.”

‘The attackers have shamed us’

Since the violence in Sukkur in 2006, it has become clear to me that all state and non-state structures aimed at interfaith harmony have broken down, including educational programs, neighborhood peace committees, community policing, and de-radicalization programs.

Social media is also increasingly being used – with impunity – to fuel the violence, and online attacks too often translate to offline violence.

I have spoken to friends with large social media followings – men and women, those prominent and those less so – and many of them are afraid of the extremism they see online. They self-police, avoid certain topics and imagery, and fear the wrong type of attention. The fear of blasphemy accusations has already pervaded the online space in Pakistan, and anyone who draws the wrong attention feels vulnerable. This is particularly concerning given that prosecution of blasphemy leads to mob violence in Pakistan.

After the Jaranwala tragedy in August, Hafiz Tahir Mahmood Ashrafi, the chairman of the All Pakistan Ulema Council, the umbrella organization that brings together leaders from different Islamic sects, cried on national television, apologizing profusely and condemning the attack in no uncertain terms. “The attackers have shamed us, for which I apologize to Christians all over the world, including Pakistan,” he said.

It was the first time a prominent Muslim religious figure had stood next to a Christian priest and expressed solidarity on a national level. It shouldn’t have to take a tragedy of this magnitude to elicit gestures of support, but perhaps it is a first step.

_____________

Menaal Munshey holds a PhD in criminology from the University of Cambridge, and currently works for the United Nations in Iraq

Courtesy: The New Humanitarian (Posted on October 4, 2023)

The post Pakistan must confront blasphemy-related vigilante violence first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Aamir Latif

KARACHI, Sindh Pakistan

Pakistan’s caretaker Prime Minister Anwaar-ul-Haq Kakar on Monday visited the churches vandalized and burned by angry mobs following alleged desecration of Muslim holy book of Quran in northeastern Punjab province, vowing the perpetrators will be brought to justice.

Along with the governor and interim chief minister of the province, Kakar met the Christian community leaders in the Jaranwala town and assured them that his government will ensure their safety and compensation, apart from a fair inquiry into the violent incidents, state-run Pakistan Television reported.

“I assure you that the government and the people of Pakistan stand beside you. A handful of miscreants cannot divide us,” Kakar said as he hugged the male victims and placed a hand on women’s heads as a sign of respect.

“Being followers of Prophet Mohammad (peace be upon Him), we are bound to protect you (minorities). We will stand shoulder-to-shoulder by our sisters and brothers,” he maintained.

Recalling his early education at a Christian school, the premier lauded services of Christians and other minorities in development of the South Asian country.

The Punjab government has announced a compensation of 2 million rupees ($6,751) for each of the affected families, in addition to reconstruction of destroyed churches and homes.

Violent mobs, last week, attacked churches and the homes of Christian residents after a Christian man was accused of desecrating Islam’s holy book in Jaranwala, located 127 Kilometers (78 miles) from provincial capital Lahore.

The attacks occurred after some Muslims living in the area claimed they had seen a local Christian and his friend tearing out pages from a Quran, throwing them on the ground, and writing insulting remarks on other pages.

The rioters demolished the man’s house and damaged churches. The homes of other Christians living in the area were also targeted.

Interim Chief Minister Mohsin Naqvi said that the key suspects involved in the incidents have been arrested.

Police have booked over 600 people on the charge of ransacking multiple churches and attacking properties of Christian minorities.

Some 160 suspects have already been detained, said Usman Anwar, the provincial police chief.

______________

Aamir Latif is a Karachi-based senior journalist. He represents Anadolu, a Turkish news agency

Courtesy: Anadolu Agency (Posted on 21.08.2023)

The post Pakistani premier meets Christian community after Church attacks first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Zachary M. Schrag

Former U.S. senator Rick Santorum has deservedly lost his position at CNN for his April speech in which he described all of Native American culture as “nothing.” But he made that remark in service to an equally suspect claim: that America “was born of the people who came here pursuing religious liberty to practice their faith, to live as they ought to live and have the freedom to do so. Religious Liberty” – Contrary to Santorum’s rosy picture, many of the English settlers of what is now the east coast of the United States were as devoted to denying religious liberty to others as they were to securing their own ability to worship as they pleased. And as a committed Catholic, Santorum should know that for many Protestants, “religious liberty” meant attacking the Catholic Church.

The first English monarchs to back colonization hoped to contain Catholic expansion with what historian Carla Gardina Pestana calls “a Protestant empire.” While some colonies persecuted dissenters—whipping Baptists and Quakers—most tolerated varieties of Protestantism. But the settlers often drew the line at Catholicism. Each November, colonists celebrated “Pope’s Day” by lighting bonfires, firing cannon, and marching effigies of the pontiff through the streets, all to celebrate their common Protestant identity. Colonial governments outlawed Catholic priests, threatening them with life imprisonment or death. Even Maryland, founded in part as a Catholic haven, eventually restricted Catholic worship.

The Revolution—secured with the help of Catholic Spain and France, as well as that of many American Catholics—toned down some of the most vicious anti-Catholicism. Most American Protestants learned to respect and live with their Catholic neighbors. But while the United States Constitution forbade the establishment of religion or religious tests for office, individual states continued to privilege Protestantism. Some limited office holding to Protestants, declared Protestantism the official religion, and, most commonly, assigned the King James Bible in public schools, over the objections of Catholics.

Political anti-Catholicism gained new adherents in the 1830s, in response to both Catholic Emancipation in the British Empire and increased Irish Catholic immigration to the United States. In 1835, New York’s Protestant Association debated the question, “Is Popery compatible with civil liberty?” In 1840, a popular Protestant pastor warned that “It has been the favorite policy of popish priests to represent Romanism as a harmless thing.” “If they ever succeed in making this impression general,” he continued, “we may well tremble for the liberties of our country. It is a startling truth that popery and civil and religious liberty cannot flourish on the same soil; popery is death to both!”

Such beliefs led anti-Catholics to attack Catholic institutions as alien intruders. In August 1834, a mob burned down the Ursuline convent in Charlestown, Massachusetts, acting in the conviction that they were protecting American liberty against an institution that “‘ought not to be allow[e]d in a free country.’’ Five years later, a Baltimore mob threatened a convent there with a similar fate. As Irish immigrants filled both the pews and pulpits of American Catholic churches, such anti-Catholicism merged with a nativist movement that hoped to restrict immigration and make naturalization difficult.

The most sustained attack against Catholics came in Philadelphia in the spring and summer of 1844. Inspired by the success of a third-party nativist candidate in New York City’s mayoral election, Philadelphia nativists staged their own rallies throughout the city and its surrounding districts. In May, rallies in the largely Irish Catholic Third Ward of Kensington sparked three days of rioting. On the third day, nativist mobs burned two Catholic churches, along with the adjacent rectories and a seminary. Outside of one church, they built a bonfire of Bibles and other sacred texts, and cheered when the cross atop the church’s steeple collapsed in flame. In a nearby Catholic orphan asylum, the superioress wondered how she could evacuate nearly a hundred children if the mob attacked. “They have sworn vengeance against all the churches and their institutions,” she wrote. “We have every reason to expect the same fate.”

In the aftermath of the May riots, a priest in the heavily nativist district of Southwark resolved to prepare his church against future attacks. Along with his brother, he organized parishioners into a security force, armed with a collection of weapons ranging from surplus military muskets to bayonets stuck on brush handles. When, in July, the church’s neighbors realized the extent of his preparations, they concluded that the Catholics were planning to murder their Protestant neighbors in their sleep. Mobbing the church, they launched a second wave of riots, and even bombarded the church with stolen cannon. Eventually, the county’s militia arrived in force and fired into the crowd. By the time the fighting was over, two dozen Americans were dead, and the nation was in shock.

Throughout all of this, leading nativists insisted that they tolerated all religions. “We do not interfere with any man’s religious creed or religious liberty,” asserted one. “A man may be a Turk, a Jew or a Christian, a Catholic, Methodist or a Presbyterian, and we say nothing against it, but accord to all a liberty of conscience.” He then immediately revealed the limits of his tolerance: “When we remember that our Pilgrim Fathers landed on Plymouth rock to establish the Protestant religion, free from persecution, we must contend that this was and always will be a Protestant country!” That second sentiment—the insistence that the country truly belonged to members of one creed—explains the fury of the mob.

The same cramped view of religious liberty echoes in Santorum’s speech. As a Catholic, Santorum unsurprisingly identifies America with “the morals and teachings of Jesus Christ,” rather than only Protestantism. He also calls the United States “a country that was based on Judeo-Christian principles,” letting Jews halfway into his club. But any effort to privilege some religions over others reminds us that purported advocates of tolerance may be religious supremacists under the skin. Pursuing religious liberty for one’s own kind is only the beginning of freedom. Securing liberty to all is the true achievement.

____________________

About the Author

Zachary M. Schrag is Professor of History at George Mason University and the author of the forthcoming books The Princeton Guide to Historical Research (Princeton University Press) and The Fires of Philadelphia: Citizen-Soldiers, Nativists, and the 1844 Riots Over the Soul of a Nation

Courtesy: History News Network (Received through email)

The post When Churches were burned in the name of Religious Liberty first appeared on Sindh Courier.