Donald Trump featured in new jihadist recruitment video

ISIL video (Credit: freakoutnation.com)
ISIL video
(Credit: freakoutnation.com)

Washington, Jan 2: Last month, The Washington Post reported that white nationalists have begun using Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump as a recruitment tool.

Now, the polarizing Republican presidential front-runner has become the recruitment fodder for another group of marginalized extremists.

A propaganda video released by the Somali-based al-Qaeda affiliate al-Shabab includes a clip of Trump calling on the United States to bar Muslims from entering the country, according to news reports. Trump made the statement following the Islamic State-inspired shootings in San Bernardino, Calif., last month.

The video was produced to look similar to a documentary and calls upon African Americans to join a holy war against the United States, according to the BBC.

Claiming the United States is a hotbed of racial inequality, police brutality and anti-Muslim sentiment, the film is an indictment of U.S. race relations and also includes historical civil rights-era footage of Malcolm X, an unnamed white supremacist and African Americans in prison, according to CNN.

The clip showing Trump, the BBC noted, arrives 10 minutes into the 51-minute propaganda video.

On either side of the Trump footage, NBC reported, are clips of Anwar al-Awlaki, the late al-Qaeda recruiter, urging Muslims in the United States to move to Islamic countries or wage war against the West at home. A U.S. citizen, al-Awlaki was killed in a drone strike carried out in Yemen in 2011.

“Yesterday, America was a land of slavery, segregation, lynching and Ku Klux Klan, and tomorrow, it will be a land of religious discrimination and concentration camps,” Awlaki can be heard saying in recorded footage.

He adds: “The West will eventually turn against its Muslim citizens.”

The al-Kataib Media Foundation released the video on Twitter on Friday, according to NBC.

Trump’s campaign did not immediately respond to requests for comment. But Saturday afternoon, news of the video did nothing to dim the ardor of supporters gathering for his rally in Biloxi, Miss. They began lining up seven hours before the candidate was scheduled to speak, and they utterly rejected the premise that Trump was providing grist for propagandists.

Some wondered whether the video was real. More insisted that the al-Qaeda affiliate was attacking Trump out of fear.

“ISIS, Al-Shabaad, al-Qaeda, all those groups — they don’t want Trump in office,” said Richard Coyne, 52, an Army veteran from nearby Gulfport, who retired last year.  “They want the status quo, which is unfortunately pro-ISIS, pro-Al-Qaeda, pro-Muslim.” ISIS is another name for the extremist group Islamic State.

Sarah Anderson, 57, of Hattiesburg, also an Army veteran who had once worked at the checkpoint at the Berlin Wall, said that any terrorist group that cited Trump was doing so because it is “scared to death of him.”

“He’s a threat to them,” she said. “That’s the opposite of promoting what the terrorists want.”

Some voters were unaware of the video but well aware that Democratic presidential candidate Hillary Clinton had warned of Trump’s rhetoric being promoted to recruit terrorists. Tom Simmons, a 68-year-old Vietnam War veteran from nearby Vancleave, was reminded of a time 45 years ago when liberals worried so much about winning hearts and minds that they did not do what was necessary for victory.

“I can’t comprehend anything that the Democrats say,” Simmons said. “The terrorists fear Trump right now. They’re going to do anything they can to make him look ridiculous and sound ridiculous.”

In controversial remarks made after the San Bernardino attack, Trump called for “a total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States until our country’s representatives can figure out what the hell is going on.”

The propaganda video includes that line, but bleeps out the word “hell,” according to CNN.

In the wake of the Paris attacks, Trump said he would “strongly consider” shutting down some mosques and heavily surveilling others.

“I would hate to do it, but it’s something that you’re going to have to strongly consider because some of the ideas and some of the hatred — the absolute hatred — is coming from these areas,” Trump said in an interview on “Morning Joe.”

The video arrives on the heels of several heated exchanges between Trump and Hillary Clinton, in which Clinton has claimed Trump’s language aids jihadists.

“If you go on Arabic television, as we have, and you look at what is being blasted out — video of Mr Trump being translated to Arabic,” Clinton said at an Iowa town hall last month. “ ‘No Muslims coming to the United States,’ other kinds of derogatory, defamatory statements — it is playing into the hands of the violent jihadists.”

Trump’s comments, Clinton added, “lights an even bigger fire for them to make their propaganda claims through social media and in other ways.”

Trump responded to Clinton’s assertion by calling her “a liar.”

“It’s just another Hillary lie,” Trump said on NBC News’s “Meet the Press” late last month. “She’s a liar, and everybody knows that.”

David Weigel contributed to this report from Biloxi, Miss

 

Aslam Azhar – far from the madding crowd

Aslam & Nasreen Azhar (Credit: tribune.com.pk)
Aslam & Nasreen Azhar
(Credit: tribune.com.pk)

ISLAMABAD, Dec 30: An unassuming and calm-looking Aslam Azhar, once he was off his job, led a peaceful life in a serene (rented) house off the Margalla Road in Islamabad, away from the glamour and gabble of the city. The octogenarian exuded a strange satisfaction, eyes beaming and face aglow with a faint smile when I met him for an interview (which lasted for about an hour) in November 2014. “Looking back, I am pretty pleased with myself,” he stated, his deep voice echoing across the room.

Aslam passed away on Tuesday, after undergoing prostate surgery last month. The 83-year-old leaves behind two sons, Usama Azhar, Arieb Azhar and a daughter Umaima Azhar. His wife Nasreen Azhar is a renowned human and women’s rights activist.

A recluse that he was, after spending an eventful life in the world of broadcast he had retreated to his favourite world of books. He was an avid reader of the history of civilisations and anthropology. He owed his love for words and books to his father AD Azhar who was a government servant in British India. Those who knew Aslam, told me he does not meet people unless it becomes extremely unavoidable. True it was; he seldom spoke to the media.

Born in September of 1932, in his early 30s the legendary broadcaster was heading the nascent PTV. He well deservedly had many firsts to his name in the history of broadcasting in the country. Throughout his career, Aslam remained associated with radio and television in coveted positions till the end of Benazir Bhutto’s first government in 1990, except for the 10 years when Ziaul Haq ruled. Yet he had no wish to pen any memoirs. He was content with the recordings conducted by PTV for its archives and sundry interviews by the print media. Think what you will.

Azhar did his Bachelors from Government College University, Lahore. He for a brief period after completing his Masters from Cambridge University in 1954 served with Burma Oil Company. A man of many talents who soon realised his muse lay elsewhere; he joined the government’s department of films and publications.

Around that time the then president Ayub Khan and his information secretary Altaf Gauhar were exploring options to bring the ‘magic box’ to Pakistan to propagate the agenda of the government. For this purpose, they were in negotiations with various international companies.

It was November 26, 1964 when the Japanese Nippon Electric Company (NEC) started a three-month pilot project in the lawns of Radio Pakistan, Lahore. Aslam, the man who had experience of both theatre and broadcasting, was the first choice to helm the project. The government being apprehensive of the success of the project asked NEC to bear all the expenses, which it would reimburse only if the project turns out to be a success. With Aslam and his team in charge, the government soon had to write a cheque for the Japanese.

Former federal secretary I A Imtiazi in the book This is PTV: Another Day, Another World, writes that Aslam “was the real founding father of PTV who gathered a team of raw persons and taught them to write, present and produce programmes skillfully.”

For Aslam, surprisingly enough, the governments of Ayub and Yahya Khan were less interfering. Advertisements were rolling in at a steady pace and he had reasonable amount of editorial independence. He made a conscious effort to introduce folk singers like Tufail Niazi and Saeen Akhter, in his own words, to bridge the gap between the urban and rural population, and started shows for the youth.

He also remembered the time when Ayub was obsessed with celebrating the “so-called decade of development”. He had admitted he was compelled to do a series of propaganda programmes but was quite happy to see the people, despite all the propaganda, “throw him out eventually”.

People were absolutely delighted to see the faces of those they had heard on radio, Aslam had recalled during the interview. He established television stations in Karachi, Lahore and Quetta, bringing quality programming and latest equipment. He had to his credit, among other initiatives, the first PTV award ceremony, 1982-83’s Music 89, marathon transmissions on 1970 elections and the Islamic Summit held in Lahore.

When BBC’s David Frost visited Pakistan in 1970, Aslam along with Yasmin Shahid Hasan and Shoaib Hashmi interviewed him. Frost was famous for his show Face to Face. Aslam produced a similar program named Roobaroo, hosted by Mohsin Sherazi, which became quite popular. Khuda ki Basti and many other plays got a new lease of life under his able leadership.

As the first professional managing director of PTV between 1971 and 1976, he established the Peshawar and Quetta centres in a record three-month time. Before the 1977 elections, realising that Aslam would not do his bidding; Zulfikar Ali Bhutto transferred him to the less lucrative PTV Training Academy.

Later with Zia on the saddle, Aslam had to move to Karachi where he started Dastak Theatre group to highlight issues of the working classes. Short plays on social themes relating to workers, students and women were adapted, translated and performed for the workers’ communities.

During the first government of Benazir, Aslam was appointed chairman of both Pakistan Broadcasting Corporation (PBC) and PTV. During the chairmanship he gave clear instructions to all stations to be impartial and unbiased, supported unionism and encouraged programming in regional languages. Benazir was soon sent packing and so was Aslam; he was accused of bringing back liberalism to broadcasting. That was curtains for his professional career.

The soldier’s soldier

He sided with the left, at least ideologically if not practically. “My father always stood for and worked towards the ideals of the left,” said Arieb. In the early days of PTV, Arieb recalled, he was much respected by the workers’ union because he always considered himself a man of people. He refused to have an AC installed in his room until the whole building was provided with adequate air conditioning.

He who established television in Pakistan, did not watch it during his last years. “In television everything is there whereas in a book a reader can use his imagination. With a book the brain grows; with television it just becomes stale.” Aslam had said mediocrity is built into the medium. “It is severely limited due to its dependence on money. A writer only needs a pen, a painter a brush but TV needs money,” he had said.

However, in the same breath, he defended the broadcasting of today, saying a comparison with old times is not fair as in those times people only bought what was needed whereas today’s is more of a consumer society. “He who pays the piper, calls the tune. Why worry about it?”

In recognition for his services, the government conferred upon him Tamgha-e-Imtiaz in 1968.

Renowned playwright Munnu Bhai reminisced the day he wrote his first play for the 1965 war on the insistence of Aslam, saying he had finished writing it in half an hour.

He said Aslam was a man of vision and the right temperament needed to undertake such a big project. “He in a very short time established the Pakistani drama. India showed our plays from those times in their acting academies. He used to tell us that drama is about reaction and not action. Elaborating further, he would say a joke becomes a joke only if people laugh. Merely telling a joke does not make it so,” recalled Munnu Bhai.

Long ago, on an email group condoling someone’s death, Aslam had written, “The world is rich that she has lived.” Something, that aptly applies to the gentleman himself.

 

Pakistan has moved beyond Benazir Bhutto

BB eighth anniversary (Credit: equoter.blogspot.com)
BB eighth anniversary
(Credit: equoter.blogspot.com)

It’s been eight years since Pakistan’s former prime minister and one of the country’s most charismatic leaders, Benazir Bhutto, was assassinated in the city of Rawalpindi during an election rally.

Her son Bilawal Zardari, whom she had designated as her political heir in her will, is due to address the Pakistan People’s Party’s (PPP) supporters in Ghari Khuda Baksh, a small town in the southern Sindh province, on Sunday. But Bilawal has neither the leadership qualities nor the support of the masses that his mother or his grandfather, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, enjoyed. And yet the 27-year-old scion is trying his best to revive the party.

Since 2007, when Bhutto was shot dead by unknown assailants, her widower Asif Ali Zardari has been leading the party alongside his son. After Bhutto’s death, the PPP won the general election in 2008, allowing Zardari to become the president of the Islamic country, but in the 2013 parliamentary vote the party was almost wiped from the political landscape, and was reduced to its Bhutto stronghold in the Sindh province.

Zardari’s administration was marked by massive corruption scandals, incompetent governance, nepotism and the inability to rein in home-grown Islamist militants. But what dissuaded the PPP supporters most was the former government’s lack of will to bring Bhutto’s assassins to justice.

A United Nations commission, set up to investigate Bhutto’s murder at the request of the former government, revealed in its detailed 2010 report that the security arrangements for Bhutto were seriously inadequate, and that some military agencies had tried to hinder the initial investigations.

Former military ruler Pervez Musharraf has also been implicated in the Bhutto murder case. He denies any involvement and blames the Taliban. The Islamist group says it didn’t kill Bhutto.

Veteran politician and PPP senator Taj Haider refutes allegations that the former government didn’t do much to find Bhutto’s murderers.

“It was a very big controversy that resulted from Benazir’s murder,” Haider told DW. “We wanted to be on the right track, and we want to conduct the investigation on scientific lines. In the first place we involved the UN so that the wider parameters of the conspiracy behind her murder would be determined.”

The end of dynastic politics?

But the debate in Pakistani politics has now moved far beyond Bhutto’s assassination. Other big players have emerged on the political scene, such as cricketer-turned-politician Imran Khan.

The reason that these new parties resonate well with a large section of the Pakistani middle class is their emphasis on governance issues – particularly corruption and political accountability. Pakistan has moved beyond grand slogans of socialistic revolution and the charisma of the Bhutto dynasty, barring a small section of Pakistani liberal intellectuals.

New political players have emerged on the political scene, such as Imran Khan

Many urban Pakistanis believe corruption is the biggest impediment to progress in their country, and they hold their politicians responsible. These educated Pakistanis from big cities like Karachi, Lahore, Islamabad and Rawalpindi pin their hopes on the judiciary, which they think has finally gained enough independence to try corrupt legislators and politicians.

But the Pakistani anti-corruption movement is also supported by right-wing parties and the private media, besides the lawyers who initiated the movement in 2007.

“The foremost thing is to change the system. To eradicate corruption from Pakistan, we need to emphasize our morals and the accountability of politicians,” Ahmed bin Mateen, a student in Karachi, told DW.

‘The only true liberal party’

Still, the figure of Benazir Bhutto continues to inspire many liberal activists and intellectuals in Pakistan, who believe that she sacrificed her life for the consolidation and supremacy of democracy.

“The PPP is still the only truly progressive party in Pakistan,” Ahmed Murtaza, a PPP supporter in Lahore, told DW. “It is the only party that can confront the military generals and the rising Islamism in the country. Bhutto will always be our inspiration as an icon of liberal democracy.”

“The anti-corruption movements you see these days promote a right-wing agenda. Bilawal is not an ideal leader, but he is Bhutto’s son and is carrying forward her mother’s mission. We should give him some time,” he added.

‘Zardari’s PPP’

But many people in Pakistan say that Benazir Bhutto’s PPP does not exist anymore – that it died with her in 2007. They say the current PPP is simply Zardari’s party, and that it now pursues a different ideology.

Many people say Zardari’s PPP now pursues a different ideology than Bhutto’s

Naheed Khan, one of Bhutto’s closest aides, who fell out with the former president after Bhutto’s assassination, blames the new party leadership for the downfall of the PPP.

Khan told DW that the PPP’s defeat in the 2013 election was not unexpected. “The present PPP leadership is only interested in power. They have abandoned the PPP ideology,” Khan said.

Khan advised Bilawal Bhutto to revert to his mother and his grandfather’s ideology and distance himself from his unpopular father if he wanted to revive the party.

But some experts say that even Bhutto’s politics were not very progressive. During her second term as prime minister the Taliban invaded Kabul and started their ruthless Islamist rule – some say with the backing of the government in Islamabad.

 

Pakistan is still trying to get a grip on its madrassa problem

Pak madressah (Credit: dawn.com)
Pak madressah
(Credit: dawn.com)

ISLAMABAD, Dec 16 — In a country that has more than 20,000 religious schools, Pakistani investigators say the madrassa where Tashfeen Malik studied the Koran doesn’t stand out as being especially radical or linked to past violence.

But experts here can’t say the same about every other madrassa in the country. Religious schools provide Koranic teachings to 3.5 million children and young adults in Pakistan, and officials and analysts think that a small but significant number of these institutions act as incubators of radicalism.

Malik’s killing of 14 people in San Bernardino, Calif. — in an act carried out with her husband — has refocused attention on the roots of Islamist extremism here.

The Al-Huda Institute, where Malik studied, is relatively obscure and not known for being confrontational, although four female students at its affiliate in Ontario did leave Canada to try to join the Islamic State, the Canadian Broadcasting Corp. reported.

But observers trace some of the strong currents of religious radicalism in Pakistan back to similar institutions. Critics argue that the government has fallen short on its promise to police the madrassas and that the most extreme among these institutions have allowed a radical and violent view of Islam to grow here, even beyond their walls.

If Malik was radicalized in Pakistan, it was because she was exposed to ways of thinking that these schools have helped to promote.

“They require people to isolate themselves from modernity — television is wrong, eating McDonald’s is wrong, mixing with [the] opposite gender is wrong,” said Mosharraf Zaidi, an Islamabad-based columnist who specializes in education issues. “And once you establish that isolation, then dehumanizing people is easy . . . and if you leave someone there, you have left them on a cliff.”

Wednesday was the first anniversary of a Taliban attack on a school in Peshawar that killed more than 150 teachers and students. The attack galvanized the government and public around a significant military response as well as reforms to clamp down on extremist views. Madrassas were not excluded.

In January, the government released a 20-point action plan, which included the “registrations and regulation of madrassas.” But even though much of the plan is now being implemented — helping to reduce the number of terrorist attacks in Pakistan this year — the government remains conflicted over how aggressively it should, and can, confront the country’s powerful network of Islamic religious leaders and teachers.

With Islamic study a key characteristic of Pakistani society, government officials say they are struggling to differentiate legitimate faith-based teachings from those that spew intolerance or actively recruit militants.

“Only a few madrassas can be dubbed as fomenting extremism, which nurture terrorism,” said one senior Interior Ministry official, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss the matter freely. “Muslims go to mosques and madrassas to pray and for religious education, and they send their children, too, but that doesn’t mean they are getting radicalized.”

Yet many security analysts are far more pessimistic about the nature of the threat.

Muhammad Amir Rana, a terrorism expert who helped draft the government’s response to the Peshawar school attack, said madrassas pose a “very serious threat” because they set their own criteria for who or what should be considered “enemies of Islam.”

“Terrorism has different shades,” Rana said, “but madrassas have been the nursery.”

Abdul Hameed Nayyar, a retired Pakistani physics professor who has extensively studied madrassas, said even moderate Islamic schools mix religion with politics and spend considerable time on topics such as jihad.

“They teach this kind of anger, an anger that many perhaps keep under control but others are not able to keep control over, and that anger comes out in the form of jihad,” Nayyar said.

Although Pakistan’s religious seminaries predate the country’s founding in 1947, the numbers grew significantly during the 1980s.

At that time, the United States and Saudi Arabia were pouring money into religious education in Pakistan in support of the Muslim rebels resisting the Soviet invasion of neighboring Afghanistan. Later, in the 1990s, some madrassas served as pipelines for militants associated with Pakistani-backed insurgents in Indian-ruled Kashmir.

It wasn’t until after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, that Pakistani madrassas became a major source of international concern. In response, Pakistan began assessing how many madrassas had opened here over the previous three decades.

Today 26,000 madrassas are registered with an umbrella organization, Ittehad-e-Tanzeemat-e-Madaris. Some Interior Ministry officials think that 9,000 others may be unregistered.

One ministry official estimated that 2 to 3 percent of Pakistan’s madrassas can be linked to the radicalization of students. Over the past year, the government has closed about 100 of these over suspected links to militancy.

Nayyar, however, estimates that 5 percent of Pakistan’s madrassas “are very active in jihad.” An additional 20 percent to 25 percent, he said, stand ready to provide logistical support to groups engaged in armed conflict.

“It is this collection that could be there for jihadis if there is a need,” Nayyar said. “They could be given places to hide and be the ones actually taking care of jihadists.”

On a recent visit to a madrassa in Mardan, in Pakistan’s northwestern Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, both students and administrators seemed well aware that their way of life is under heightened scrutiny.

The Darul Uloom-e-Islamia al-Arabia madrassa has 1,400 students, about 600 of whom live on-site for round-the-clock exposure to religious education.

The madrassa is affiliated with the Deobandi sect of Sunni Islam, from which groups such as the Taliban have historically found their greatest sources of support.

“There is common perception that madrassas are a hub of terrorists and they are giving terrorists training, but I don’t even know how to use a pistol,” said Ijazullah Khan, 24, a seventh-year student. “It’s just been my childhood desire to join religious school and get Islamic education.”

Maulana Tayyab, the administrator, also recoils at suggestions that madrassas fuel terrorism.

Still, Tayyab concedes, three of his students were recently arrested on suspicion that they had links to terrorist groups.

“We have a clear policy that we will not support anyone arrested or found involved in terrorism,” Tayyab said. “We disown them.”

Yet Tayyab’s definition of terrorism may not match the Western interpretations of the word.

“The fight between right and wrong is continuing,” he said. “How can we stop teaching jihad, as it is mentioned in the holy book?

“These madrassas have a history of fighting against the British in India, and the [Soviet Union] was defeated by these students and teachers,” Tayyab continued. “Now the U.S. and West feel threatened by madrassas, but we will protect ourselves.”

For Pakistani leaders, trying to evaluate the diversity of teachings in the schools, while assessing the threat that any one school may pose, isn’t easy.

After the Peshawar school massacre, the government asked madrassas to submit information on their sources of funding, spending practices, and the identities of all students and teachers.

But many of the madrassa leaders resisted, saying the process was intrusive and harassing. The data collection was suspended in September, said Mufti Muhammad Israr, a religious scholar who runs a madrassa in northwestern Pakistan.

In recent weeks, there also have been signs of an emerging split between Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif’s government and the Pakistani military over the issue.

In early November, the army’s chief spokesman issued a series of tweets that questioned the government’s commitment to implementing the national action plan.

One security official, who spoke on the condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to talk to the media, said frustrations over the lack of serious madrassa reform are feeding the military’s unease.

“It has to be done by the Interior Ministry, and it can’t be halfhearted,” the official said. “But they are afraid because they think there will be a backlash. They are afraid of the mullahs.”

When it comes to madrassas, said Zaidi, the columnist, “the genie is so far out of the bottle, any real attempt to be assertive is going to backfire.” He noted that Pakistan’s own laws are infused with some of the same Islamic principles taught in madrassas.

“This forces people to confront elements of their own values and belief system,” Zaidi said. “You have a conservative Muslim walking up to an extremely conservative Muslim saying, ‘Hey, this is too much.’ But the way the state has also defined itself as Muslim, and all laws are supposed to be Muslim — that makes it very difficult.”

Haq Nawaz in Mardan, Pakistan, and Shaiq Hussain and Zahid Gishkori in Islamabad contributed to this report

 

License to Kill?

2015 will go down in history as the year in which the Sindh Police publicly declared that driving licenses were mandatory for driving on the roads. However basic and apparent this declaration may appear, the fact remains that there has been a near silence on this issue since 1947. This has resulted in an estimated two million individuals who drive on the streets of Karachi, without having ever known a document called ‘driving license.’ Of the 3.8 million car owners in the city, only 1.24 million possess a driving license.  Moreover, the majority of the licenses held by individuals were never issued by the Licensing Department, placing them in the same league as their notorious cousins – fake gun licenses and fake university degrees. The DIG Police (Licenses) confirmed that a random sample of 10,000 driving licenses when sent for verification, revealed 8,700 fake licenses – outrageously making it one of the world’s biggest licensing scandals.

The Sindh Police is largely to blame for creating the ‘driving license crush of 2015.’ For 60 long years, it operated an institutionalised system that allowed the offenders to drive away after a minor greasing of palms. The making of licenses was a joint racket being operated by the police and its touts who hovered around the licensing premises, offering to get you any kind of license in an hour or two.

Suddenly they seem to have woken up to the reality, and announced a huge penalty for anyone without a driving license. While it is difficult to design an efficient and customer-friendly licensing process, it is even more difficult to implement one.  A system that currently is handling around 400 licenses a day cannot overnight be expected to handle a crowd of 5,000. Placing scores of extra policemen at each branch can only add to the confusion, as the primary process remains unchanged.

Information is always the first need of a license-seeker. A large notice board at the entrance to the Clifton Licensing Branch (partially covered by bushes) is conspicuous by its vagueness. It keeps the applicant guessing as to where the counters are, where one can get access to the forms that need to be filled, and the license fee to be paid. What’s more, one has to queue up at four different counters to make four different types of payments. There is no reason why one consolidated fee cannot be charged from an applicant at one location and in one go. Moreover the current driving test is an eyewash. Each branch needs to have a large-sized, scientifically designed and camera-monitored testing ground. The licensing staff is in itself the biggest hindrance often  breaking the queue, and providing fast-track services to the ‘high-ups,’ who consider it an insult to rub shoulders with the common man.

After years of serving as puppets to their political masters, the police has lost its capacity for any serious pro-active planning. The link between crime, militancy, guns, fake car registration plates and fake driving licenses has never been understood. Car registrations and driving licenses are not subject to NADRA’s verification of an individual’s thumb impression and CNIC. If this could be done for 130 million SIMs, surely it can be done for a few million vehicles and driving licenses. This is an essential security check that links every vehicle and driving license to a unique individual and CNIC. Currently, one can register a car or obtain a license on a fake CNIC and a fake home address.  The extra step of requiring an applicant to make a second visit to collect his/her registration book or driving license can be completely eliminated. Posting these documents to the specified home address will not just save an extra day for millions, but also help traceability and verification of the specified address.

Having no license or a fake license is just as hazardous as having no number plate or a fake number plate on one’s car. It is estimated that some 100,000 to 300,000 vehicles ply the streets of Karachi with fake, illegal or deceptive number plates. There are numerous creative ways of committing this crime. Thousands of individuals simply paint their private numbers on a green background, and add ‘Government of Sindh,’ to make them appear as official vehicles. Many use forged number plates which are not registered with the Excise and Taxation (E&T) department. Hundreds of vehicles go around with number plates of foreign countries or plates that carry personal names or insignias. Many continue to evade taxes by using an AFR (Applied for Registration) number plate for several years.

Such vehicles have been increasingly used in crime, kidnappings and bomb attacks. By failing to recognise this link and remaining a silent observer, the Sindh police may well have contributed hugely to the spread of crime. A major hurdle in this process is the Sindh government, that itself is guilty of not having registered thousands of vehicles that are in its own use. Very few of those that are registered pay their annual motor vehicle tax. These unlawful practices offer a huge opportunity to criminals who can unabashedly use fake, fancy or ‘look alike’ government or police number plates to gain access to high security zones or  indulge in criminal activities. The police is simply too scared to check vehicles that appear to be official, foreign registered or display plaques like ‘Minister,’ ‘Commissioner,’ etc.

Regrettably, the Sindh Police, which is responsible for fighting crime and militancy in the province, has made no attempts to modify its performance or improve its capacity. It has refused to use even the most basic tool that every  police man is gifted with by nature – a pair of eyes. Most of the irregularities relating to vehicle number plates can be visually spotted from a distance – if only the police had the slightest inclination. Don’t be surprised if some day they decided to drop the bombshell and announce the existence of millions of fake and unregistered vehicles.

The use of computers or hand-held tablets, with internet facility to directly access the data of any vehicle at any time of the day, is a routine practice by the police in most countries. Ironically, while any ordinary citizen with a smart phone in Pakistan can access the E&T Department’s website and see most of the data relating to any vehicle, the Sindh police has chosen not to do so. The near zero checks on vehicles and driving licenses suggests a deliberate shirking of its primary responsibilities by the police. They have allowed matters to slide to this chaotic stage. The driving license process needs to be re-engineered and the police needs to acquire the relevant technology to check out the complete details of a vehicle, including the driving license data within a few minutes. An Excise and Taxation Department that has not been able to issue the standard number plates for the past 18 months ought to be either shut down or go in for a major overhaul.

Can any of these reforms be led by a government, which is averse to the idea of registration of vehicles in its own use and payment of the annual motor vehicle tax?

 

The Child Martyrs of Pakistan

APS anniversary (Credit: newsonetv)
APS anniversary
(Credit: newsonetv)

LAHORE, Pakistan — A FEW days after the Pakistani Taliban gunned down 14-year-old Muhammad Shaheer Khan, along with at least 144 others, at the Army Public School in Peshawar last year, his mother received the black gloves he had worn to school that day.

“It was cold,” she told me, about the last morning she had seen him.

It was cold, too, on the night we met, earlier this week. We were sitting on the roof of the home of a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Aurangzeb, whose son was also massacred.

Mr. Aurangzeb has created an open-air room on his rooftop that functions as a shrine to his son and a gathering place for other mourning parents, who meet there twice a week. A poster of the photos of the murdered, mostly schoolchildren, runs the length of one wall. Green banners inscribed with Quranic verses hang on another.

It was two days before Dec. 16, the anniversary of the massacre, and six couples — bundled in overcoats, woolen scarves covering their mouths — had assembled.

When she received the black gloves, Muhammad Shaheer’s mother said, she asked her maid to wash them. “Suddenly, the maid cried, ‘There is blood in these!’ so I rushed to see. Blood was leaking from inside the gloves. I told the maid to get aside,” she said. “I will wash the gloves myself. This is my child’s blood, my own blood.” She touched her stomach. “You see, when my child was shot, he must have put his hand on his stomach to ease the pain.”

The other mothers mechanically wiped away tears.

“So I washed them myself, and the whole tub was filled with blood,” she said. “Then I took the bloodied water and watered my plants with it. It is my blood, so it will stay in my home.”

“But my tears have dried up,” her husband said. He is short and stocky, and introduced himself as a businessman. “Will you please let me talk for five minutes?” he asked, dragging a plastic chair closer to where I was sitting. “No one should interrupt me.”

“What has the government done for us? They have only given us medals. And these medals have gone black, just like their hearts. What operation is the Army doing? Which terrorists are they hanging? Why don’t they show us the photos of the dead terrorists? I would like the government to hang them in the square of this city, so I can go and spit on them. When my child and the children of these parents were killed, they took them to the hospital in Suzuki vans like cut-up pieces of meat.”

He pointed at our host. “Mr. Aurangzeb, here, his son called him from his cellphone after he was shot, to say: ‘Baba, bring me water. I am feeling thirsty.’ His father rushed to the school with two guns in his hands to kill the terrorists himself but he was not allowed in. Please excuse my language — I should not be using this word in front of women — but what have these bastards done for us other than give us rusting medals?”

In the years leading up to the massacre, a debate raged in Pakistan: Are the Taliban our enemies or are they “misguided” Muslims?

Increasingly, the latter narrative was winning out. Its greatest proponent was Imran Khan, the cricket star-turned-politician, who insisted that the government engage the Taliban in peace talks instead of hunting them down because they were “our people, Pakistanis.” The Taliban have historic grievances with the United States, the argument went, and Pakistan is caught in the middle because of its greed for American dollars. The Taliban don’t hate us — they just hate our government’s foreign policy.

The Taliban, energized by the government’s willful impotence, began to kill with impunity. In the last 10 years, more than 50,000 Pakistani civilians — innocent men, women and children — perished in the war on terror.

Then the Taliban attacked the Army Public School on Dec. 16, 2014. For years, Pakistan’s security establishment had resisted decisively moving against the Taliban; it had, in fact, nurtured some of these terrorists as assets in Afghanistan. But now the army was humiliated — an army school had been attacked, army children killed. Suddenly, the Taliban were not misguided Muslims. They were murderers. Politicians, who had previously described the terrorists in painstakingly diplomatic terms, began to curse them. The Pakistani mind-set, which had veered from lamentation (when the Taliban attacks began) to fear (when high-profile politicians began to be assassinated) to denial (when “talks” gained traction) had changed: The people were now angry.

Significantly, the establishment delicately altered the notion of martyrdom. The word for martyr in Urdu is “shaheed.” To achieve martyrdom — or shahaadat — is to be elevated to the highest ranks in heaven for a patriotic sacrifice made on earth. The word had been reserved for Pakistani soldiers killed in war. Now schoolchildren and teachers who had been killed as they sat peacefully in an auditorium were all shaheed, because the Army said so. The message was this: Our children did not die in vain; they are the reason we have gone after the people’s enemy.

Today, a year has passed. The Army Public School has undergone intensive renovation. Brass plaques inscribed with buoyant religious verses adorn the grounds. New vigor has been applied to the operation against the Pakistani Taliban in the mountains of Waziristan. The names of dead terrorists routinely appear as front-page news.

But on the Aurangzebs’ rooftop, the posters of dead children flutter in the wind. The parents, who still feel that far too little has been done, cling to their memories. “My son used to bathe so well, so well,” says Muhammad Shaheer’s mother, “that when he would come out of the shower, shining white, we would say, ‘Look, it’s Katrina Kaif!’ ” — a Bollywood actress.

Another mother looks me in the eye. “There is one thing — one word — that has given me support in this difficult time. That word is ‘shaheed.’ I don’t know how I would have survived if this word did not exist.”

 

How Balochistan became a part of Pakistan – a historical perspective

Balochistan consists of the south west of Pakistan. In the west it borders with Afghanistan and Iran and in the south it has the Arabian Sea. It accounts for nearly half the land mass of Pakistan and only 3.6% of its total population. The province is immensely rich in natural resources, including oil, gas, copper and gold. Despite these huge deposits of mineral wealth, the area is one of the poorest regions of Pakistan. A vast majority of its population lives in deplorable housing conditions where they don’t have access to electricity or clean drinking water.

Before the partition of India and Pakistan, Balochistan consisted of four princely states under the British Raj. These were Kalat, Lasbela, Kharan and Makran. Two of these provinces, Lasbela and Kharan, were fiduciary states placed under Khan of Kalat’s rule by the British, as was Makran which was a district of Kalat. Three months before the formation of Pakistan, Muhammed Ali Jinnah had negotiated the freedom of Baluchistan under Kalat from the British. Discussions were made about Kalat’s relationship with Pakistan as it was formed. This ensued a series of meetings between the Viceroy, as the Crown’s Representative, Jinnah and the Khan of Kalat. This resulted in a communique on August 11, 1947, which stated that:

a. The Government of Pakistan recognizes Kalat as an independent sovereign state in treaty relations with the British Government with a status different from that of Indian States.
b. Legal opinion will be sought as to whether or not agreements of leases will be inherited by the Pakistan Government.
c. Meanwhile, a Standstill Agreement has been made between Pakistan and Kalat.
d. Discussions will take place between Pakistan and Kalat at Karachi at an early date with a view to reaching decisions on Defence, External Affairs and Communications.

Referring to a telegram of October 17, 1947 from Grafftey-Smith, the Political Department, in a note on Pakistan-Kalat negotiations, says that Jinnah had second thoughts regarding the recognition of Kalat as an independent sovereign state, and was now desirous of obtaining its accession in the same form as was accepted by other rulers who joined Pakistan. The same note mentioned that an interesting situation is developing as Pakistan might accept the accession of Kalat’s two feudatories, Lasbela and Kharan.

By October 1947, Quaid-i-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah had a change of heart on the recognition of Kalat as an “Independent and a Sovereign State”, and wanted the Khan to sign the same form of instrument of accession as the other states which had joined Pakistan. The Khan was unwilling to abandon the nominally achieved independent status but ready to concede on defence, foreign affairs and communications. However, he was unwilling to sign either a treaty or an Instrument, until and unless he had got a satisfactory agreement on the leased areas. Fears were also being voiced that officials of the Government of Pakistan might start dealing with the two feudatories of Las Bela and Kharan, and accept their de facto accession.

By February 1948, the discussions between Kalat and the Government of Pakistan were coming to a head. The Quaid wrote to the Khan of Kalat: “I advise you to join Pakistan without further delay…and let me have your final reply which you promised to do after your stay with me in Karachi when we fully discussed the whole question in all its aspects.” On February 15, 1948, Jinnah visited Sibi, Baluchistan and addressed a Royal Durbar, where he announced that until the Pakistan Constitution is finally written in about two years’ time, he would govern the province with the help of an advisory council that he would nominate. However, the main reason for Jinnah’s visit was to persuade the Khan of Kalat to accede to Pakistan. As it transpired, the Khan failed to turn up for the final meeting with him, pleading illness. In his letter to Jinnah, he said that he had summoned both Houses of the Parliament, Dar-ul-Umara and Dar-ul-Awam, for their opinion about the future relations with the Dominion of Pakistan, and he would inform him about their opinion by the end of the month.

When the Dar-ul-Awam of Kalat met on February 21, 1948, it decided not to accede, but to negotiate a treaty to determine Kalat’s future relations with Pakistan. On March 9, 1948 the Khan received communication from JInnah announcing that he had decided not to deal personally with the Kalat state negotiations, which would henceforth be dealt with by the Pakistan Government. So far there had not been any formal negotiations but only an informal request made by Jinnah to the Khan at Sibi.

The US Ambassador to Pakistan in his dispatch home on March 23, 1948 informed that on March 18, “Kharan, Lasbela and Mekran, feudatory states of Kalat” had acceded to Pakistan. The Khan of Kalat objected to their accession, arguing that it was a violation of Kalat’s Standstill Agreement with Pakistan. He also said that while Kharan and Lasbela were its feudatories, Mekran was a district of Kalat. The British Government had placed the control of the foreign policy of the two feudatories under Kalat in July 1947, prior to partition.

On March 26, 1948, the Pakistan Army was ordered to move into the Baloch coastal region of Pasni, Jiwani and Turbat. This was the first act of aggression prior to the march on Kalat by a Pakistani military detachment on April 1, 1948. Kalat capitulated on March 27 after the army moved into the coastal region and it was announced in Karachi that the Khan of Kalat has agreed to merge his state with Pakistan. Jinnah accepted this accession under the gun. It should be noted that the Balochistan Assembly had already rejected any suggestion of forfeiting the independence of Balochistan on any pretext. So even the signature of the Khan of Kalat taken under the barrel of the gun, was not viable, because the parliament had rejected the accession and the accession was never mandated by the British Empire either, who had given Balochistan under Kalat independence before India. The sovereign Baloch state after British withdrawal from India lasted only 227 days. During this time Baluchistan had a flag flying in its embassy in Karachi where its ambassador to Pakistan lived.

To say that the Baloch have been ill-treated by all governments and military establishments since their land was illegally and forcefully taken over would be an understatement. As a result there have been continuous insurgencies, the largest of which was started in 2006 after the killing of Sardar Akber Bugti and 26 of his tribesmen by the Pakistan Army.

A 2006 report by the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) documented arbitrary arrests and detentions, torture, extra judicial and summary executions, disappearances and the use of excessive and indiscriminate violence by the Pakistan police, military, security agencies and intelligence forces. These figures are corroborated by Amnesty International. Kachkol Ali Baloch who is the former leader of Opposition in the Balochistan Assembly, alleged that about 4,000 people have been either missing or are detained without trial. The missing persons included around 1,000 students and political activists.  Lately his own son was kidnapped and was finally released after being held captive for 14 months.

Sardar Akhter Mengal, leader of the Baloch Nationalist Party (BNP) was one of the people arrested in 2006 on framed terrorism charges. The reality was he was planning a long march against the then President of Pakistan General Pervez Musharraf. He was later released in 2008 and all cases against him were dropped. The current Chief Minister of Balochistan, Dr. Abdul Malik Baloch, recently spoke at a seminar held in Punjab called ‘Stability in Balochistan – Challenges and possibilities”. He clearly stated that if the Baloch people are not given a right to the resources of their province, we would be looking at yet another insurgency and no one will be able to control it.

The true history of Balochistan is never shared or talked about among the general public of Pakistan. Our textbooks and other publications narrate a rhetoric which is far from the truth, and which has made the general public believe in a lie. It is the responsibility of the intellectuals, the teachers and the professors to learn and reveal the real facts according to non-tempered historical documents.

I Worry About Muslims

KARACHI, Dec 17 — I worry about Muslims. Islam teaches me to care about all human beings, and animals too, but life is short and I can’t even find enough time to worry about all the Muslims.

I don’t worry too much about the Muslims who face racial slurs in Europe and America, the ones who are suspected of harboring murderous thoughts at their workplaces or those who are picked out of immigration queues and asked awkward questions about their luggage and their ancestors. I tell myself that at the end of their humiliating journeys they can expect privileges like running water, electricity and tainted promises of equality.

I do worry about the Muslims who face extinction at the hands of other Muslims in their own homelands, usually in places where they are in a huge majority. My friend Sabeen Mahmud was murdered earlier this year, probably for not being a good enough Muslim, and it happened in this country, a country so Muslim that you can live your entire life here without shaking hands with a non-Muslim.

But mostly I worry about my kind of Muslims, those who are expected to explain to the world what real Islam is like. We so-called moderate Muslims are urged to take control of the narrative and wrest it away from the radicals — as though we were MFA students in a creative writing class struggling with midterm submissions, rather than 1.6 billion people of maddening diversity.

I worry about the pundits who end up on TV within hours of an atrocity and are required to condemn or defend and explain on our behalf. I worry about those nice folk who are supposed to remind the world that Islam is a religion of peace.

Yes, the word Islam does mean peace. The dictionary says so. But it takes gumption to wave a dictionary in front of someone who has lost a daughter, a son or a partner, and say: “Here, I have something for you. Look. ‘Islam.’ It means peace.”

Saying that Islam is a religion of peace is like saying that Hinduism is about respecting cows and Buddhism is about the lotus position. Is Judaism basically a property dispute? And are Christians always looking for that other cheek?

Whenever I hear someone say Islam is a religion of peace I want to yell at them and say, “Hey, look behind you.”

It’s an impossible job, explaining Islam, whether you’re an observing Muslim (no alcohol, no bacon, no jihad) or an accidental Muslim (a bit of everything, and surely no jihad) or somewhere in between. But if we can’t do the explaining, we’re told, the least we can do is some condemning. Muslims don’t condemn enough, apparently.

Yet if as a good Muslim I started to condemn everything bad that is done by Muslims, I wouldn’t have any time left to say my five daily prayers, let alone make macaroni and cheese for my kids or take them to the park. And I’d become a worse kind of Muslim.

We are often told that only a few Muslims are bringing a bad name to all of us. I feel that those few also include our representatives in the media who pretend they can save Islam’s reputation by going on TV and writing op-eds to reassure the world that we come in peace.

They tell the world that though the mass murderer was quoting from the Quran, he got the Quran wrong. Some of the gutsy ones don’t forget to add: What about your own secular mass murderers? They are suggesting that Muslim mass murderers should be treated like non-Muslim mass murderers, like those shooters on American college campuses or the invaders of Iraq. Should we thank them for striving for parity among mass killers? Did someone say peace?

They say that Islam teaches us to respect all religions. They again point to the Holy Book: Look, here’s Jesus; he is our prophet, too. But they don’t explain the point of having a religion if its god and its prophet are no bigger or better or faster than yours.

We are encouraged to look at Sufi Islam as a model of moderation. Yet Sufi Muslims, brandishing Rumi and whirling like couplets in a bad poem, don’t even pretend to offer any solution. When asked about Islam they say, let’s listen to some music. At least they are more honest than our spokesmen.

And thank you, our spokesmen, for reminding the world that Muslims are not a race. Some of us speak Chinese, others Swahili. Some of us are gay, painters, lawyers, prostitutes, pimps or drummers, and of course mass murderers. Muslims disagree over most things, about this life and the afterlife as well. I have a household of six and can never get us to agree on anything, even though one is an infant and two are dogs.

Who is a good Muslim? The kind who prays and leaves it to Allah? The kind who doesn’t pray and leaves it to Allah? The kind who thinks Allah is too busy and so takes matters into his own hands and takes a shortcut to the hereafter? Well, no, maybe not that kind, because as we told you, Islam is a religion of peace.

The most poetic bit Muslim pundits tell the world is that Islam says if you murder one human being you murder the whole human race. So how come Sabeen Mahmud is gone and the whole bloody human race, including her killers, is still alive?

Mohammed Hanif is the author of the novels “A Case of Exploding Mangoes” and “Our Lady of Alice Bhatti.”

 

195 Nations Seal Climate Deal

LE BOURGET, Dec 13: To rousing cheers and tears of relief, envoys from 195 nations approved Saturday an accord to stop global warming, offering hope that humanity can avert catastrophic climate change and usher in an energy revolution.

French Foreign Minister Laurent Fabius ended nearly a fortnight of grueling UN negotiations in Paris with the bang of a gavel, marking consensus among the ministers, who stood for several minutes to clap and shout their joy.

“I see the room, I see the reaction is positive, I hear no objection. The Paris climate accord is adopted,” Fabius declared.

Turning to a little green hammer with which he formally gave life to the arduously-crafted pact, he quipped: “It may be a small gavel but it can do big things.”

The deal, to take effect from 2020, ends decades-long rows between rich and poor nations over how to carry out what will be a multi-trillion-dollar effort to cap global warming and deal with consequences already occurring.

With 2015 forecast to be the hottest year on record, world leaders and scientists had said the accord was vital for capping rising temperatures and averting the most calamitous impacts from climate change.

Without urgent action, they warned of increasingly severe droughts, floods and storms, as well as rising seas that would engulf islands and coastal areas populated by hundreds of millions of people.

The crux of the fight to limit global warming requires cutting back or eliminating the use of coal, oil and gas for energy, which has largely powered prosperity since the Industrial Revolution began in the 1700s.

The burning of those fossil fuels releases invisible greenhouse gases, which cause the planet to warm and change Earth’s delicate climate system.

Ending the vicious circles requires a switch to cleaner sources, such as solar and wind, and improving energy efficiency. Some nations are also aggressively pursuing nuclear power, which does not emit greenhouse gases.

The Paris accord sets a target of limiting warming of the planet to “well below” 2.0 degrees Celsius compared with the Industrial Revolution, while aiming for an even more ambitious goal of 1.5C.

To do so, the emissions of greenhouse gases will need to peak “as soon as possible”, followed by rapid reductions, the agreement states.

The world has already warmed almost 1C, which has caused major problems for many people around the world particularly in developing countries, such as more severe storms, droughts and rising seas, according to scientists.

Environment groups said the Paris agreement was a turning point in history and spelt the demise of the fossil fuel industry, pointing particularly to the significance of the 1.5C goal.

 

Pakistan facing climate ‘calamity’ if warnings go unheeded

Floods ravage Pakistan (Credit: mnn.com)
Floods ravage Pakistan
(Credit: mnn.com)

KARACHI, Dec 10: Karachi, 2050: The sprawling megacity lies crumbling, desiccated by another deadly heat wave, its millions of inhabitants suffering life-threatening water shortages and unable to buy bread that has become too expensive to eat.

It sounds like the stuff of dystopian fiction but it could be the reality Pakistan is facing. With its northern glaciers melting and its population surging — the country’s climate change time bomb is already ticking.

In a nation facing militant violence and an unprecedented energy shortage slowing economic growth, the environment is a subject little discussed.

But the warning signs are there, including catastrophic floods which displaced millions, and a deadly heat wave this summer that killed 1,200 people.

Three of the world’s most spectacular mountain ranges intersect in Pakistan’s north: the Himalayas, the Hindu Kush and the Karakoram, forming the largest reservoir of ice outside the poles.

The mountain glaciers feed into the Indus River and its tributaries to irrigate the rest of the country, winding through the breadbasket of central Punjab and stretching south to finally merge with the Arabian Sea near Karachi.

The future of Pakistan, a Muslim giant whose population the UN predicts will surge past 300 million people by 2050, can be read in part by the melting of glaciers like Passu, at the gateway to China.

From its magnificent rocky slopes, the glacial melt is obvious.
“When we would come here 25 years ago, the glacier reached that rock up there,” explains Javed Akhtar, indicating an area some 500 metres (1,600 feet) from the tip of the ice.

Akhtar, his face bronzed by the sun, is a villager who has been employed by a team of glaciologists measuring the impact of climate change.

Temperatures in northern Pakistan have increased by 1.9 degrees Celsius in the past century, authorities say, causing “GLOF” — glacial lake outburst floods, where the dams of such lakes abruptly rupture, sending water cascading down the slopes.

Today, thirty glacial lakes are under observation in the north. According to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), such mass loss of water is “projected to accelerate throughout the 21st century, reducing water availability, hydropower potential, and changing seasonality of flows in regions supplied by melt water from major mountain ranges”.

In Pakistan, most of the country is fed by the lush, fertile plains of one such region: Punjab.

Despite its growing population, Pakistan remains self-sufficient in agricultural terms, largely thanks to the rich Punjabi soil.

But in recent years the region has seen unprecedented, deadly floods that wipe out millions of acres of prime farmland.

The disasters are caused by monsoon rains, but are a bellwether for the havoc that melting glaciers could cause, with any variation in water levels threatening farmers’ crops.

“When there is too much water it’s not good for rice, and when there is not enough, that’s also bad. And it’s the same for wheat,” says farmer Mohsin Ameen Chattha during a walk through his family land just outside the Punjabi capital of Lahore.

Surplus monsoon water is mostly stored in Pakistan’s two large reservoirs, the Tarbela and the Mangla dams — but, warns Ghulam Rasul, director general of Pakistan’s meteorological department, the supply would hardly last 30 days.

“That is not sufficient,” he says.

Throughout the rest of the year, farmers rely on the rivers, primarily the glacier-fed Indus, to irrigate their land.

For now, the production of rice and wheat is still rising.
But if the glaciers were to one day disappear, “we would be totally dependent on the monsoon. And already it varies,” says Rasul.

“All this has an impact on food security” for the country, he added.
If its daily wheat production should no longer suffice, Pakistan would have to begin importing the grain — driving the price of bread up.

Like the Indus, the ominous warning signs all culminate around Karachi.

The city draws almost all of its water from the river and already fails to meet even half of the four billion litres a day its inhabitants require, in part because of its inadequate pump network.

By 2050 the IPCC predicts a decrease in the freshwater supply of South Asia, particularly in large river basins such as the Indus.
That means Karachi will somehow have to manage its growing population with even less water — a population with a significant poverty rate that will also struggle should food prices rise.

“In the long term, it is a huge challenge,” says Syed Mashkoorul Hasnain of the Karachi Water Company.

To make matters worse, the meteorologist Rasul predicted changes in atmospheric pressure over the Arabian Sea that could reduce the breezes that currently temper the sweltering heat of the port.

In June an unprecedented heat wave took 1,200 lives, mostly in poor neighborhoods of Karachi — heat traps with their massive concrete buildings, lack of shade, and the absence of aqueducts.

Could it have been a taste of the future? Back on the Passu Glacier, the research assistant Javed Akhtar is unequivocal.

“A calamity is coming,” he warns.