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  The Karachi question: Ethnicity or extremism?  

People chant slogans against the Taliban at a rally in Karachi. - AP

People chant slogans against the Taliban at a rally in Karachi. - AP

 Once again, Karachi is burning, and everyone has a theory. On April 29, at least 34 people were killed in an escalating wave of violence across the port city. Most of the dead were Pathan, though the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) also claimed losses. Even before funeral processions were organised and the last fires were doused, politicians began finger pointing.

Speaking from London, MQM chief Altaf Hussain appealed for peace, indirectly blaming the Taliban for the recent urban violence. He claimed that criminal elements belonging to the land and drug mafia were stirring trouble with the support – in the form of arms and money – of the Taliban. Meanwhile, Pakistan Muslim League chief Nawaz Sharif hinted at the ethnic dimensions of the clashes, pointing out that Karachi’s residents were being pitted against each other as part of a larger plot. For his part, Minister of State for Ports and Shipping, Nabeel Gabol, claimed that the fighting had been instigated by a ‘foreign agency’ that is working in collaboration with a religious party.

Outside political circles, there is an assumption that this week’s killings are the result of a long-standing ethnic rivalry between Karachi’s Urdu-speaking and Pashto-speaking communities. Newspaper reports, for example, have described the clashes as ‘ethnic violence’ and city police chief Wasim Ahmed even split up Wednesday’s death toll as ‘16 Pathans and three Urdu-speaking people.’What explains the resurgence in Karachi violence? Is it an attempt by the city’s ethnic stakeholders to drawn new battle lines? Or are the recent clashes somehow connected to the broader militant threat that Pakistan is currently wrestling?

The politics of militancy

For almost a year, the MQM has been warning against the Talibanisation of Karachi. The party’s cautionary rhetoric gained resonance when the MQM became the only political force to resist the passage of the Nizam-i-Adl Regulation, which has established qazi courts in NWFP’s Malakand division. In all their anti-Taliban speechifying, MQM leaders are careful to point out that they are not targeting an ethnic group. As Naib Nazim Nasrin Jalil puts it, ‘Pashtuns are not all Taliban, but some of them are harboring the Taliban. It’s impossible to identify militants from others.’   

But members of Karachi’s Pashto-speaking community argue that the MQM is making no effort to distinguish between honest workers and militants. ‘The MQM is playing up the issue of Talibanisation for political gain,’ says Ameen Khattak, the secretary general of the Awami National Party (ANP) in Sindh. They’re trying to attract the attention of the international community while pursuing their hidden agenda.’

In fact, ANP officials claim that the threat of Talibanisation in Karachi is being over-stated by the MQM. They point out that the Pashto-speaking community, which has been targeted by Taliban militants in Pakistan’s tribal and northern areas, is most at risk. ‘Who will they kill first?’ asks Khattak. ‘They’ve killed 150 ANP workers in Swat and will do the same in Karachi.’ He adds that the ANP is determined to stave off the extremist threat: ‘We have assured the MQM that if they provide specifics of Taliban influence in the city, we’ll work together to combat the Taliban.’

The Taliban factor

While they disagree about the extent to which Karachi has been Talibanised, MQM and ANP leadership do agree that militancy is on the rise in Pakistan’s commercial hub. Party leaders on both sides admit that fund-raising for militant activities is rampant. MQM chief Hussain’s comments that the Taliban is now enmeshed with the local land and drug mafia point to the well documented fact that militants and criminals have joined hands to carry out robberies and kidnappings, the gains of which are used to finance terrorism in the northern areas and Federally Adminstered Tribal Areas (Fata).

Indeed, officials of the Criminal Investigation Department (CID) have stated that over one billion rupees have been raised by criminals in Karachi over the past two years to finance jihad. The Citizens-Police Liaison Committee has also confirmed that ransom money in many high-profile kidnappings is being collected in Fata. Faisal Sabzwari, an MQM leader and the Sindh minister for youth affairs, adds that ‘land grabbing in the name of religion’ is also on the rise. In this context, ANP’s Khattak admits that some members of the Pashto-speaking community are connected with the Taliban through ‘chanda’ (alms). ‘People based in Karachi may be paying off the Taliban to keep their families in the northern areas safe,’ he explains. 

Beyond criminal activities, both MQM and ANP leaders point to the resurgence of banned sectarian outfits such as Jaish-e-Mohammad, Laskar-e-Taiba and Lashakar-e-Jhangvi as the biggest threat facing Karachi (particularly in the wake of last November’s Mumbai attacks). As a police officer stationed in Karachi’s Sohrab Goth puts it: ‘The Taliban are only in Karachi to the extent that they’re reaching out to militants who have been based here for decades.’ According to the CID, there are over 5,000 trained militants with ties to banned militant groups currently stationed in the city. Since the leadership of these militant groups trace their origins to the Punjab and Siraiki belt, how has an ethnic clash between mohajirs and Pathans hijacked the conversation about urban Talibanisation?

Drawing battle lines


In recent months, MQM party workers have been mobilizing, by their account, to ward off the Taliban threat. Hussain has called for Karachiites to arm themselves and take up martial arts training. Naib nazim Jalil adds that MQM has reinstated a ‘chowkidari’ (neighbourhood watch) system in mohajir localities. ‘Our activists are physically protecting their areas,’ she says. Moreover, the City District Government Karachi has requested that Rangers and paramilitary personnel be deployed in sensitive spots across the city. On another level, MQM has increased vigilance across the city. ‘No other party can boast the grassroots level set-up that the MQM has,’ says Sabzwari. ‘We have been involved in ground-level information collection for some time now. Our people let us know what’s happening in their areas.’ He explains that MQM activists monitor unusual activities at mosques and note the presence of foreigners or strangers in different neighbourhoods. Noteworthy information is then passed on to the Sindh and federal governments. 

Karachi’s Pashto-speaking community views this mobilization as an attempt to consolidate MQM’s stranglehold over the city and target the Pathan population. ‘There are between three and four million peace-loving Pathans in Karachi,’ says Khattak. ‘But the MQM is watching them all as if they are criminals, pretending to be on the look out for the Taliban.’ He points to several areas where MQM activists or security personnel have in effect cordoned off Pathan areas from the rest of the city. ‘If things go on like this, Karachi will be the next Beirut. The city has already been carved up and the battle lines are being drawn.’MQM’s leadership rejects Khattak’s analysis of the situation. ‘It’s not an ethnic issue,’ insists Sabzwari. ‘It’s a criminal issue. It’s an issue of law and order. What can we do if the criminals happen to come from Pashto-speaking localities? Is it my fault if Baitullah Mehsud’s right-hand man was caught in Karachi?’ [Badshah Deen was arrested in Karachi’s Sachal area on April 13.] He adds that ANP is giving a simple law and order situation an ‘ethnic run’ so as to consolidate its vote bank.

Caught in the crossfire


Either way, it is Karachiites who end up dead. Anayat Khan, a fruit seller at Bacha Khan chowk in Karachi’s Benaras area, says a ‘political game’ is under way. ‘There are no Taliban here,’ he says. ‘We listen to music, we have functions, our women go shopping. The only people we have to fear are the workers of a certain political party.’ Meanwhile, across town, Naeem Hussain, a resident of Azizabad, shakes his head. ‘The city is completely shut down, even though the end of the month is so important for business. We’re just trying to live our lives … I don’t know who to believe anymore.’

Dawn.com  Huma Yusuf :Thursday, 30 Apr, 2009

 

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