Abstract
In his first speech after the coup last October that brought him to power, Gen. Pervez Musharraf announced that “moderate Islam” would guide Pakistan and warned against the “religious exploitation” of public fears and sentiment. A few days later, Musharraf was pictured on the front page of major newspapers holding two Pekingese, a gesture construed by many as a sign of the general's liberal outlook on life. According to some Muslims, dogs are impure animals, and a person who has touched one is not allowed to pray until he has performed absolution.
In some respects, Musharraf has lived up to this liberal image. He has assembled a clique of moderate politicians and urban elites to run the country's National Security Council. Special conventions and laws for human rights and women's rights are advocated. Government ministers have supported—or, as some see it, co-opted—the work of independent nongovernmental organizations, including environmental and humanitarian groups. The print media is as free as it has ever been, although the state-controlled electronic media is still heavily censored. The government does not invoke religion as frequently as past regimes. And minorities feel more secure against state discrimination than perhaps during any other period of Pakistan's history.
When dealing with Islamic fundamentalism, however, the Musharraf government has been more cautious. A test of the government's position arose last December after Islamic fundamentalists hijacked an Indian jetliner. Maulana Masood Azhar, one of the Kashmiri “freedom fighters” released by India in exchange for hostages, was allowed to enter Pakistan and hold public meetings in several major cities. The government took action against Azhar only after international pressure and outrage forced its hand. He was arrested by agents of a secret Pakistani security agency, but it is not clear if he has been imprisoned or is simply being protected.
April 21: Human rights activist Abdul Sattar Edhi (left) with Law Minister Aziz A. Munshi and Gen. Pervez Musharraf during a human rights convention in Islamabad.
Armed jihadi groups that support the conflict in Kashmir operate openly under the new government, and militant madrisas (or seminaries) that train fundamentalists in the techniques of terror are flourishing. The government has also maintained a traditional hardline on Kashmir. When a recent U.S. State Department report hinted that Pakistan's involvement in Kashmir could place the country on the list of nations supporting terrorism, Musharraf responded, “Fighting in Kashmir against India is not terrorism, it is jihad.”
Still, Musharraf is sensitive to the international attention the conflict receives. During President Bill Clinton's visit to Pakistan in March, Musharraf promised to “moderate” the jihad in Kashmir and offered to curb militancy in the region if India reciprocated by reducing troop levels.
Sectarian violence between Sunnis and Shias also continues unabated. The recent murder of Maulana Yousef Ludhianvi, a leading Sunni scholar, highlighted the religious tensions in the country. Immediately after he was killed, riots broke out throughout Karachi, buildings and vehicles were set on fire, and one newspaper office was reduced to rubble. Because Ludhianvi was Sunni, Shias were targeted for revenge killings.
The case, however, was not so cut and dried. Lud-hianvi's madrisa, the Jania Aloomia Islamia (University of Islamic Knowledge), maintains close relations with the Sunni Taliban and serves as a sort of human resource center for the fundamentalist revolution in neighboring Afghanistan. Anti-American, anti-Shia, anti-Indian, anti-Russian, and anti-Iranian, Ludhianvi's madrisa has its share of enemies. After his death, there were many conspiracy theories about who his killers may have been. Ludhianvi's supporters believe he was killed by U.S. agents because he met with Taliban officials in Kabul a week before his death.
Modern madrisas
There are indications that Musharraf is beginning to take seriously the tide of fundamentalism sweeping the country. In April, for example, the government acknowledged that the proliferation of madrisas was a significant security concern.
May 28: Pakistanis pray in front of a model of the Chagai Nuclear Site during celebrations marking the second anniversary of Pakistan's nuclear tests.
Dr. Mehmud Ghazi, a member of the National Security Council and a former religious scholar at the International Islamic University, recently announced a plan to modernize the mad-risa network. The plan envisions a chain of officially recognized madrisas that would offer vocational training and courses in computer technology alongside traditional religious teachings. There is also a plan to open madrisas for women.
The government hopes its plan will help undermine the growing influence of radical madrisas. Traditionally, the madrisas have been places where underprivileged Muslims could receive religious teachings and learn reading and writing skills. During the past two decades, however, many of the schools have become militarized institutions where students are indoctrinated in the principles of jihad and sent off to fight in Kashmir.
But the government's plan does little to diminish the influence of these militant madrisas and fails to acknowledge the hundreds of terrorist training camps disguised as seminaries. Critics of the plan argue that simply instituting a parallel system of “modern” religious schools will do nothing to take the weapons and extreme ideological training out of the thousands of radical madrisas in the country.
Some argue that the government cannot curb the activities of the ma-drisas because they are supported by the Pakistani military. One retired military officer told me, “The opposition the government faces in going ahead with a crackdown on madrisas is from the public as well as the military, whose ideological inclination was responsible for letting these outfits grow in the first place.”
Mudassir Rizvi, a Pakistani journalist, agrees. “It is inconceivable that, like Algeria and Turkey, the Pakistani armed forces can be used against the militant Islamic groups—first, because they are motivated by the same ideology that inspires the jihadis; second, because [the militants] have been nurtured with the connivance of many elements within the Pakistani state … which has always projected Islam and anti-Indianism as the political basis of the country.”
The Taliban effect
Pakistan's relationship with the Taliban reflects its ambiguous approach to fundamentalism. The government has pressured the Taliban on issues related to its own security, asking it to close down camps in Afghanistan that were being used to stage raids on Pakistani villages. At the same time, Pakistan still risks isolation as the only country in the region that recognizes and supports the Taliban.
The government has also adopted a hand-off approach regarding the Taliban's relations with other countries. During his visit in March, Clinton asked the Musharraf government for help in pressuring Afghanistan to expel Osama bin Laden. Pakistan's Foreign Office responded by saying that Afghanistan is an independent country. Clinton's request also provoked a massive outcry among conservative elements of the public, who consider bin Laden a hero.
Mounting fear in Pakistan that a Taliban-type revolution could spread across the border has helped boost public support for Musharraf. Zahoor Ahmed, a development worker, told me, “I support this military government because it is the last bulwark against a fundamentalist, jihadi rule.”
Such fears are not without basis. Movements demanding the enforcement of Shariah, or religious laws, have sprouted up in tribal areas adjacent to the Afghan border. In Baluchistan and the northwest provinces, the local Taliban surface from time to time, though they have not yet challenged local governments. And in the heartland of the Punjab plains, marginalized youth are being recruited in great numbers to fight holy wars or to protest against the “Western, modern” ideas that are “destroying” Muslim values.
So far, the military government of Pakistan is following a dangerous policy of ambiguity regarding fundamentalism. It condemns terrorism but aids and abets “freedom fighters” in Kashmir. It wants to do away with religious bigotry but feeds anti-India sentiments. It promotes moderate, liberal Islam but overlooks sectarian violence and Islamic militancy.
Pakistani society, on the other hand, could crack under the weight of these contradictions.