Mediator’s role?
WITHOUT doubt, the current crisis in the Gulf pitting Iran against the US and Saudis is one of the most combustible in the world.
One wrong move from either side can easily spiral into a conflagration of ugly proportions that will send the global economy into a tailspin and destroy regional peace.
Therefore, all attempts to defuse tensions must be welcomed and encouraged.
Pakistan is in the unique position of having ties with all three sides; though the relationship with the US tends to go up and down, it is currently on a stable course, while the Islamabad-Riyadh equation is a cordial one. As for ties with Iran, though these may be less than ideal, there is a realisation in both Islamabad and Tehran that relations between them need improvement.
It is in this context that Prime Minister Imran Khan’s offer to Mr Trump in New York to mediate between Saudi Arabia and Iran must be seen. Speaking on the sidelines of the UN General Assembly, Mr Khan said he had discussed the issue of mediation with both US President Donald Trump and Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman, and had also brought up the issue with the Iranian president. “We’re trying our best,” said Mr Khan, adding that war between Iran and Saudi Arabia would be “a tragedy for all”.
The prime minister’s effort to promote regional peace must be lauded. However, there must be absolute clarity where the terms of such mediation are concerned, especially in a dispute as complicated as the one involving Riyadh and Washington on one side (mediating between Saudi Arabia and Iran would invariably involve the US) and Tehran on the other.
It was the Trump administration that precipitated this crisis by scuttling the Iran nuclear deal; ever since, the US president has been issuing a combination of threats and peace offerings to Iran — mostly the former.
If Pakistan has been asked to play mediator between Riyadh and Tehran (when asked, Mr Trump’s response was ambiguous) it can ill afford any U-turns by the American or Saudi administration.
On its part, Pakistan would have to assure Iran that it is not in the Saudi-American camp and would play a neutral role to promote peace.
As home to both Shia and Sunni communities, Pakistan must realise the sensitivities involved in the Saudi-Iran spat.
Once the terms are clear, instead of indulging in public diplomacy, Pakistan should task its senior Foreign Office hands — who have a thorough understanding of the respective Saudi and Iranian administrations — with establishing contacts with both sides and start the process through the backchannel.
The risks involved would be considerable, but Pakistan can play a major role for peace if it is able to pull off a diplomatic coup and reduce tensions in the Gulf.
The alternative — of tensions boiling over — paints a grim scenario for the entire region.
Justice: 18 years late
WHAT is the price of 18 years of one’s life spent on death row, despite being innocent of the crime that put one there? On Wednesday, the Supreme Court acquitted Wajih-ul-Hassan of blasphemy for which he had been sentenced to capital punishment in 2002. The court ruled that the prosecution was unable to prove the letters, which constituted the basis for the case, had actually been written by the condemned man. A lack of direct witnesses and the prosecution’s reliance on what is considered weak evidence, ie an ‘extra-judicial confession’ and the handwriting expert’s report, was instrumental in Mr Hassan being exonerated.
This is but the latest example of how the country’s dysfunctional justice system fails the people. In November 2016, the Supreme Court acquitted Mazhar Farooq of murder; by then, he had spent 20 years on death row. However, the nature of a blasphemy accusation is such that even those found innocent are dogged by it for the rest of their lives, forever looking over their shoulder lest vigilante ‘justice’ catch up with them — and with good reason. There have been several instances of individuals acquitted of the crime having been hunted down and killed later. So far-reaching is the violence that even lawyers defending people accused of blasphemy and judges who find them innocent, do so at the risk of their lives. And their adversaries, consumed by self-righteous hatred, do not forget. In 1995, an adult and a teenage boy were acquitted of blasphemy by a Lahore High Court judge — two years later, he was shot dead in his chambers. In 2014, advocate Rashid Rehman was murdered in Multan. His crime? He was the defence lawyer for Junaid Hafeez, a university lecturer accused of blasphemy. Incidentally, Mr Hafeez has been languishing in a high-security prison ward for over six years. His case has passed through the hands of nine judges; no one, it appears, wants to be the one to bring it to a close. The most well-known case of course is that of Aasia Bibi who spent eight years on death row upon her conviction for blasphemy. Even after being acquitted by the apex court — an event that triggered violent protests across Pakistan — she had to take asylum abroad, a normal existence in her home country now impossible. Surely, one must question the quality of such ‘justice’ where being proved innocent can be the prelude to even more peril.
Unsung heroes
A PAKISTANI documentary, Armed with Faith, which follows a bomb disposal squad in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa during the worst period of terrorism in the country, won a well-deserved Emmy in the News and Documentary category in New York on Tuesday. While accolades pour in for the filmmakers for bringing to light an important and largely ignored issue in a gripping manner, one cannot overlook the heroic subjects of the film itself — the “front-line soldiers”, in the words of one of the officers in the film, who put their own lives at risk in the name of duty. Indeed, they are armed with faith and little else; the film offers a glimpse into the private and professional lives of the 34-man-strong bomb disposal squad in Peshawar, who have scant resources and safety equipment at their disposal, often using their bare hands to defuse a bomb or remove a suicide vest from a young boy’s body. Giving a human face to these often nameless members of the Pakistani police fraternity, the film reminds us to honour our unsung heroes.
When a bomb attack takes place, the first reaction by many is to blame those in charge of our security, without recognising the proximity to terror these officials live with every day themselves. “Your first mistake can be your last,” says one of the men, mentioning the friends and colleagues he has lost to this profession. Some of the film’s most sensitive moments are those spent with the family members of the bomb disposal squad, who worry about their safety and live with that fear each day. Horrific moments are captured by the camera that remind us of the not-too-distant past: the sheer chaos and fear that terrorism instils in the people; the panicked screams of the ambulance sirens; and the agonising scenes of the dead, dying and injured that are witnessed once the smoke clears. In other words, the film sheds light on the all too human cost of the war against terrorism.