by Ayesha Noor
The Peshawar I left 12 years ago is not the Peshawar I saw on television yesterday. The brutal killing of Army Public School’s children is beyond a national tragedy. In my eyes, ‘tragedy’ is an understatement, almost a deceitful statement for such a horrible incident. Those kids’ heart–breaking pictures, their tears, their broken smiles and their resilience haunted me all day and night. My people’s continued vulnerability before extremism felt like something more than mere tragedy. I questioned the term “tragedy” over and over again.
A parallel incident occurred just over 20 years before these 132 children lost their lives. In February 1994, the Taliban hijacked a school bus from Peshawar and took it all the way to Islamabad. The Taliban threatened to kill every student if the government failed to fulfill their demands. Though it was then known that the Pakistani government had a soft spot for extremists, Pakistan’s then Interior Minister negotiated with the hijackers, ultimately killing every terrorist and sparing every child’s life. Despite the soft corner for the Taliban, the children’s lives took precedence.
I being a schoolgirl at that time, vividly remember our anxiety turning into relief. This was my first introduction to the Taliban. When I look back, I recall the subtle extremist ideology in conversations with classmates, acquaintances, and neighbors. In my young mind, the Taliban were the bad guys, yet outside the house no one openly admitted it. My high school was located in the University town of Peshawar, a stones throw from Pakistan’s former president Ghulam Is’haq Khan’s house. Covered in pine trees, spread between a canal and busy University Road, the area boasted to host the American consulate, the British Council, several United Nations offices, and numerous other foreign agencies. Despite all this, and with the influx of Afghan refugees, the modern University Town was quickly becoming the hub of Taliban activities. Behind the tall walls of my high school, I would hear suffocating comments eulogizing the Taliban both from students and teachers. I took a breath of relief when I was admitted to an Army-run college where the atmosphere was different – more open and definitely more liberal, quite like that of the Army Public School.
Fast forward to September 2001. As I heard the news of 9/11, I first reacted with anger. Without thinking twice about who did it or why, I wholeheartedly condemned the attack. All I knew was that several thousand civilians lost their lives. The next morning when I met my close friends, my clarity of mind turned into utter confusion. Some commended Taliban/Al-Qaeda for their heroic deed, others condemned America for its anti-Islam policies. Some sufficed in saying, “America had it coming.” My friends weren’t some right-wing conservatives , they were liberals, or at least till September 10, they were considered liberals. At my sister’s workplace, a European organization working in collaboration with the Government of Pakistan, her colleagues distributed sweets to celebrate America’s defeat. Every time, I tried to explain how Islam condemns killing innocent people, I would get some pro-America label. Now, people commended Taliban openly, those who didn’t sufficed in keeping quiet. Ironically, yesterday, when my American neighbor reached out to me to offer condolence for Pakistani school children, tears rolled down her eyes.
Since 9/11, not just Peshawar’s University Town where my school was located but the entire country has infected itself with Taliban ideology. Thus I understood why the Peshawar attack is not just a tragedy. Our eyes may be wet and our minds may be numb at yesterday’s incident, but we are not allowed to call it a tragedy. Tragedy hits once or twice. When it becomes a norm and people accept it then it is called apathy.
Since 9/11, the Taliban have destroyed over 1000 schools. None of the destroyed schools attracted a military action. We condemned Malala, a brave schoolgirl, who raised her voice for children’s right to education. We called her brutal head injury a stunt. We called her a traitor, an antichrist, a drama queen, and a western pawn. When she won the Nobel Peace Prize, we celebrated anti-Malala day. The frequent killing of Shia Hazaras doesn’t make us uncomfortable anymore. When entire Christian communities are burnt into ashes and their churches bombed, we turn a blind eye towards them. When Ahmadi mosques are bombed, we instigate more hatred towards them. Today our eyes are wet because our apathy has failed our children and has robbed their innocence.
The 132 kids, who took their last breath yesterday and hundreds more who got injured, weren’t even born in 1994. They didn’t even know that it’s the state’s responsibility to provide them security. Half of them weren’t even born at the time of 9/11. All of them grew up in a terrorism-infected Pakistan. In their life they saw the destruction of thousands of schools. They saw Malala’s condemnation and they saw America bashing on every forum. In the end they saw the monstrous looking Taliban, staring dead in their eyes and shooting them at point blank range.
No, this is not tragedy. This is our apathy
Follow Ayesha on Twitter @FriendlyMuslim
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