How the Taliban is having a chilling effect on the Pakistani election

As the country gears up for its first ever democratic transition, the secular liberal parties have been threatened into silence.

One of the first things to strike any foreign observer of Pakistan’s political scene is the sheer scale of public gatherings. In a highly politicised population of 180 million, protests and campaign rallies can easily attract people in their tens – if not hundreds – of thousands.

But as the country gears up for its first ever democratic transition, with the election date set for 11 May, the campaign has been tense and one-sided. The reason? The ramped up threat from the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) and associated extremist groups.

In a 24 hour period this week, there were nine bomb blasts in three different provinces. Karachi, Pakistan’s economic hub, situated in the province of Sindh, was targeted, as was neighbouring Balochistan, and several places in the northern province of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa. More than 75 people have been injured and at least 11 killed.

This is far from being the start of the violence. Since the election campaign kicked off in March, 28 people have been killed in 14 separate attacks. The TTP claimed responsibility for five of those, and the remainder are most likely the work of associated groups.

The biggest targets are the liberal, secular parties that are outspoken in their criticism of the Taliban. Before the campaign got underway, the TTP announced that they would target politicians from the leading coalition – the Pakistan People’s Party, the Awami National Party (ANP) and the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) – warning voters to stay away from their rallies. They have made good on their threat.

The ANP, which is predominantly made up of Pashtuns, the same ethnic group that the Taliban is drawn from, has been relentlessly targeted. Ruling the provincial government in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa, the party represents the secular tradition in the TTP’s heartlands, and has been one of the loudest voices against extremist violence. According to the ANP, 750 members have been killed by the Taliban in the last five years. During this campaign alone, there have been at least six attacks on the party. The MQM’s election camp, too, was one of the targets in the recent 24 hours of bloodshed.

These attacks on party offices, supporters, and candidates, are having a serious effect on the way the campaign is playing out. Those huge scale rallies are a key characteristic of Pakistani politics – but they also leave leaders incredibly vulnerable to attack.

The outgoing PPP, which saw its leader Benazir Bhutto assassinated in the 2008 election campaign, is breaking with tradition by not holding any major rallies at all. Instead, its election campaign is focusing on videos, social media, pamphlets, and smaller gatherings. The ANP, too, is being forced to keep its campaigning on a small scale and frequently at a distance. For some politicians, such as the ANP’s Mian Iftikhar Hussain, who has been vociferous in his criticism of the Taliban, is it too dangerous to even visit their home constituencies, so campaigning is being done over the phone.

Of course, this is expected to have a knock on effect. On 4 April, the anniversary of the hanging of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, the PPP was supposed to kick off their election campaign with a major rally at the Bhutto mausoleum in Larkana. At the last minute, it was cancelled and replaced with a closed gathering, leaving many supporters – who have a deeply emotional connection to the Bhutto dynasty – feeling angry and betrayed. If politicians do not dare to set foot in their constituencies, how can they convince the electorate they care?

This is not to say that no big-scale campaigning is happening at all. Far from it, the PPP’s main rivals, Imran Khan’s Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) and current frontrunner Nawaz Sharif’s Pakistan Muslim League Nawaz (PML-N) are both engaged in a frenetic round of rallies, frequently drawing tens of thousands of people out. Critics point to the fact that both parties occupy a centre-right, socially conservative space, and that neither leader has condemned the Taliban by name. For the most part, both prefer to stay away from the subject of terrorism at their rallies, in what some have painted as a cynical bid to stay safe.

Further to the right, hard line Islamic parties have also been free to campaign. One striking contrast was last Tuesday, when a suicide bomber blew himself up outside a meeting of the ANP in the north-western city of Peshawar, killing 16 people. Hours before, a candidate from one of the Islamic parties, Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam, campaigned freely in the same city. Maulana Jalil Jan, who has questioned whether the Taliban are terrorists and said that attacks in Pakistan are an attempt by foreign powers to “malign religious leaders”, walked around the city without guards.

Traditionally, religious parties rarely get more than about 5 per cent of the vote, but there’s a chance that could change, since rightist parties are disproportionately free to campaign.

While many, particularly in the ANP, have decried this chilling effect as “pre-poll rigging”, it is worth remembering that there was already a strong anti-incumbent feeling. The PPP, and other outgoing parties, are struggling to defend their time in power, with allegations of corruption and incompetence as the country’s economy flounders, the security situation continues to spiral, and the energy crisis deepens.

Yet there is a limited amount they can do to fight against this perception given the safety risks. There is no doubt that the backdrop of violence is having an impact on how parties campaign. A big political assassination has been prevented so far – though many are waiting with bated breath. It’s also likely that the security situation will impact voter turnout on 11 May. With half the polling stations in mega-city Karachi declared sensitive, as well as many in other areas, it’s questionable how many people will take the risk of going out to cast their vote. The TTP may not be fielding candidates in the election, but that certainly does not mean it is not playing a part.

Supporters of Pakistan's Islamist party Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam Fazl (JUI-F) hold flags during an election meeting in Quetta on April 25, 2013. Photograph: Getty Images

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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Overlooking the effect of Brexit on Northern Ireland is dangerous for the whole UK

We voted to remain in the European Union. The tensions caused by the referendum outcome, and ignoring its effect on us, will cause utter carnage in Northern Ireland.

I’ve been from Northern Ireland all my life. Having spent many years living in Dublin, and now London, I’m quite used to that very fact making people uncomfortable. I get it. From a glance at the news, it would seem we fight each other about flags and anthems and are inexcusably proud of throwing glass at people in bowler hats, or daubing on our own homes the worst paintings ever committed to brickwork. Our tiny little protectorate has generated such disproportionate levels of confusing violence, most people are terrified of saying the wrong thing about any of it. We’re the celiac vegans of nationalities; the worry is that almost anything you offer will offend.

Most people avoid such worries by – whisper it – simply never acknowledging that we exist. This reflexive forgetfulness is, of course, a happy state of affairs compared to what went before. I refer, of course, to the period named, with that Ulster-tinged strain of sardonic understatement, the Troubles, when some 3,600 people were killed and ten times that injured. By some estimates, as many as 115,000 people lost a close relative to violence in this time, and many more a good friend, a colleague or an old school pal. Taken as a portion of 1.5m people, this means a startlingly high percentage of Northern Irish citizens have been directly affected by the conflict, certainly a higher percentage than that of, say, the English electorate who have ever voted for Ukip.

Northern Ireland also contains Britain’s only fully open border with the EU. I know because I grew up on it, specifically between Derry and Donegal, where my dad's back fence demarked an invisible boundary, a small hop from the UK to the Republic, and back. From a migration point of view, this poses a problem, so when Brexit was being deliberated, it did seem odd that Northern Ireland was barely mentioned at all, that the one border that exists in the entire country was given such scant reference during the campaign’s interminable duration. A dreaded EU migrant, travelling freely through Ireland toward my father’s house will not be subject to border checks once he has passed it quietly behind him. No machine guns, no "papers please", none of the fortified rigour mandated by the Leave campaign. Implementing such fortifications would, of course, be a practical nightmare, since so many live in Ireland but work in the UK, and vice versa. But the psychological effect of such a move would be infinitely worse.


Much of the Good Friday Agreement was predicated on free movement between north and south, and cross-border bodies that reinforced a soft-union of the two states; just enough to ameliorate nationalists, but nothing so resembling a united Ireland as to antagonise unionists. Making Irish-identifying Northern Irish citizens undergo any form of border checkpoint between the two countries would not just be a bureaucratic hassle, it would massively inhibit the self-determination nearly half of Northern Ireland's population takes from both countries’ status within a wider European state.

The peace that exists rests largely on this status quo, the acceptance of people who reject violent means and see little injustice in being allowed to live their lives within a British state that dignifies their close connection to their southern neighbours. It is hard to overstate how different this situation would be were armed checkpoints to re-emerge. I remember checkpoints as a child. I remember machine guns and dogs and my dad making sure we weren't nervous while he was being interrogated by armed men inspecting his driving license and checking under our car for explosives. This was every day. Rather than some novel development, this will be a direct, unbidden return to something we worked very, very hard to get away from, something we were promised was over, and something for which thousands of very stubborn, dangerous people struck what many considered a highly improbable truce.

It is this effort to which thousands of Northern Irish people now owe their lives, to which tens, perhaps hundreds, of thousands more can count among the living and healthy their siblings, their friends, their colleagues. This may not be at the forefront of minds in Carlisle or Cornwall or aboard the statesmanlike grandeur of a battlebus, but it is the lived reality of Northern Irish people. To stoke up these tensions risks sleepwalking out of a peace that was hard-fought and long considered unthinkable. To do so as a side effect of what appears to be, on its face, little more than a tussle for the leadership of a single political party with little-to-no presence in Northern Ireland seems distasteful in the extreme.

Having stating these facts to friends here in London, I’ve been touched by their sorrow for our plight but, for all their sympathy, it might still not have registered that our problems have a tradition of travelling to people in London and Dublin, in Birmingham and in Monaghan. If greater care is not given to the thoughts, aspirations and fears of Northern Irish people, and those still-present agents of chaos who would seek to use such discontent to their own violent ends, we risk losing a lot more than free use of bagpipes or pleasingly bendy bananas.

Westminster must listen to those who would bear the burden of Fortress Britain’s turrets near their homes or else, to borrow a phrase, Brexit will be a threat to our national security, our economic security and your family's security.

Séamas O'Reilly is a writer and musician. He tweets @shockproofbeats. His website is shocko.info.