The brutal Dec. 3 killing, in the city of Sialkot in Pakistan’s Punjab province, of Priyantha Kumara, general manager of a garment factory, reminded the world that an inflamed mob can destroy a human life and worsen a country’s image in a few short minutes.
Dawn, Pakistan’s leading English-language newspaper, informs us that the mob’s fury was ignited by allegations that Kumara, a Sri Lankan Christian who had been working in the factory for ten years, had made blasphemous remarks.
Informed of an ugly situation, three policemen reached the spot but were helpless before the mob. As the mob’s numbers swelled from a few dozen to hundreds, “Mr. Kumara dashed to the roof. Shouting slogans, the charged protesters chased him, dragged him out on the road and tortured him with kicks, stones and iron rods, killing him on the spot. The mob then set the body on fire.”
The subsequent arrival of Sialkot’s deputy commissioner, Tahir Farooq, and the district police officer, Omar Saeed Malik, “along with a heavy contingent of police,” was like a cruel cartoon. A video has apparently surfaced, however, showing one of Kumara’s colleagues striving bravely but unsuccessfully to protect the manager on the factory roof.
The chief minister of Punjab province, Usman Buzdar, called the event “horrific”. Prime Minister Imran Khan said the “horrific vigilante attack” had produced a “day of shame for Pakistan” and promised “punishment with full severity of law”. The country’s army chief also offered stern words.
But answers to two questions have not been heard. Will Pakistan’s religious leaders denounce mob attacks against so-called blasphemers? If they fail to do so, will Pakistan’s political leaders call them out?
In India, too, attacks on minorities continue. And they continue to elicit no denunciation from Mr. Modi, or from close colleagues of his, or from any influential Hindu platform. In incident after incident, mobs pursuing an alleged “cattle smuggler” or “love jihadist” or “proselytizer” have inflicted vigilante punishment with full confidence that they will face no consequences.
After stand-up comedian Munawar Faruqui saw shows of his cancelled in city after city (in Surat, Ahmedabad, Vadodara, Mumbai, and Raipur), the Muslim artist was prevented yet again from performing, this time in Bengaluru, where part of the proceeds from his show were to go to a women’s rehabilitation centre.
The local police told Faruqui in writing: “There is credible information that several organisations oppose this standup comedy show and this could create chaos and disturb public peace and harmony which may further lead to law and order problems.”
Translation: “We the police are unable or unwilling to protect your right to perform. You should capitulate to the mobthat is waiting.” Getting the message, Faruqui yielded. “Hate has won,” he responded. “The artist has lost. I’m done. Goodbye.”
Living in Northeast India, the Nagas, most of them Christian by religion, are proud of their ethnic identity. Their uneasy equation with the Indian state is a story that goes back to 1947. On the 4th of this December, fourteen Naga villagers and an Indian soldier were killed near the India-Myanmar border after special forces of the Indian army fired at a truck thinking – so it was claimed – that the truck was carrying insurgents. While some Nagas died right away, others fell in the ensuing confrontation between protesting Naga villagers and the Indian army.
“Deep regret” has been expressed by the army, New Delhi has admitted a tragic “mistake”, and enraged Nagas are abstaining from the signature “Hornbill Festival” currently taking place under the aegis of the state government of Nagaland, a festival in which several diplomats from other nations are evidently participating.
How do people find safety and dignity when vigilantes are emboldened, the police helpless, soldiers reckless, and leaders silent?