As we got surrounded by a hundred soldiers. And hit!
By Arjimand Hussain Talib
DATELINE SRINAGAR
Daily Greater Kashmir 14 Sept, 2010
This Eid in Kashmir was quite different from any other Eid we have ever lived. There were no festivities. Mood was sombre, and gloomy. Social sharing was modest. For the first time in my living memory, there were no toys being sold. No children with fancy dresses going to parks. For the first time ever, there were no crackers being burst. Kashmir looked united in grief.
Srinagar was also akin to a prison where the inmates had suddenly smelled freedom. Something was on the brink. This Eid was little special to me personally. It was the first Eid when my one-and-a-half-year-old baby girl - Hiba - had just begun calling me 'Baba'. It was her first Eid when she held my hand, and gestured to me to take her out.
Having returned to Kashmir on Friday after a month-long assignment in China, I was greatly excited about the idea of taking her along to visit a few relatives. It was a father's blissful moment.
As we drove from our home, Srinagar looked like a powder keg - ready to explode with long-suppressed sentiments. Thousands of people from the countryside had descended on the city - to assert their sense of power after weeks of haplessness. Feelings of anger, revenge and defiance were in the air. Unmindful of all that, Hiba sat besides me, mumbling about the birds, the street dogs, the cows and the babies (she is so fond of) she could see. I had taken care to position her safely in the seat belt.
Old Srinagar looked particularly disturbing. One could hardly notice a house whose window panes were not smashed by paramilitary soldiers. The streets were disturbingly shabby. Human faces were devoid of smiles.
After a couple of visits-in-hurry, we began driving back home in the evening. The Airport Road from Jehangir Chowk towards Hyderpora looked uneasy. Only a few cars and pedestrians were moving. We reached near Aloochi Bagh. And suddenly the cars moving ahead of us started to slow down. Some were trying to turn back in great panic. It smelled something was going wrong.
As if out of the blue, dozens of soldiers, wielding guns and long bamboo sticks wildly, pounded on the spot. And they began to smash the window panes of every car in front of us. These cars had blocked the road completely. The soldiers were yet to reach our car. My instincts made me grab Hiba out of the seat belt and wrap her in both my arms. It was too late to turn back.
In wild excitement, the soldiers kept on beating up people inside the cars mercilessly. My instincts were telling me to turn back. But there was no way. The spot has no individual escape either. Some cars behind me - trying to turn back - collided with each other. I lost my sense of judgement completely.
And soon the soldiers reached our car. In an utter nervousness I tried to maneuver our car, but all in vain. There was really no space. And then there was a big sound - one of the window panes of our car was smashed. Hiba cried out and clung to me in horror. Her face had turned purple. My whole attention was on her, and had lost all sense of safety of my own.
And then suddenly in that chaos some cars in front of us, already hit, moved to the side a little. There was a clear opening for our car to move ahead. Trying to calm down Hiba with my one hand, I used the other one to move ahead, sensing an opportunity to slip out of the place. Just as we moved a few meters, our another window pane was gone on the back. I tried to drive fast, but I soon realised that moving ahead was a catastrophic mistake. My assumption that once past this group of soldiers, the road ahead to Rambagh will be safe was completely wrong. Much to my horror, I found some hundred wild-looking paramilitary soldiers running towards us with sticks and guns - and signaling me to stop. We were the only two civilians on that road at that moment. I knew if I stopped they will kill me, at least. Their rage was inexpressible.
The soldiers kept on signaling me to stop. But I did not. They kept raising their sticks in the air to hit us but I kept on evading. I was aware I had lost control of the car, driving in a rush of deperate ecstasy. Some soldiers, I know, felt I was defying their orders to stop. Some felt I was trying to run over them. And soon I could see some guns being aimed at our car. My sense of purpose and judgment seemed completely overtaken by fear. Chills were waving down my spine. And I soon realised I was in a sort of a suicide mode - wanting to really hit all the soldiers coming in front of us. Perhaps, they did not open fire after noticing a child with me. From that point up to Rambagh Bridge our car was hit only twice. But miraculously we were not hurt. Hiba was still crying.
At Baghat I stopped. I was still in a state of shock and denial. And I just couldn't stop my tears looking at Hiba's dreadful eyes. A few onlookers rushed towards us to check if we were safe. They offered us water. Some offered us to rest at their homes for a while. Hiba and I took water. Thanking the men there, we started moving towards home again.
Having regained my sense of judgment and writing these lines right now, my heart again and again goes to the parents of those 70 boys and girls killed by Indian paramilitary soldiers and police since June 11 this year in Kashmir. How about their feelings? Who would write their stories of loss? Of their desperation?
Hiba is too young to be told what all had happened. She is too young to, perhaps, even remember those moments. But I can't say if the images of that horror will completely fade from her memory. Like thousands of other unfortunate Kashmiri children, she has been born in a Kashmir where the license to soldiers to kill the civilians is not on table for a rethinking. They might, perhaps, change the semantics of that license. But not their resolve to crush all those who demand dignity, a life beyond suffocation and an air of freedom.
And the irony is that when we cry for the hurts we suffer, they call it violence. So does their media.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International's balancing acts on Kashmir
Arjimand Hussain Talib
In any credible democratic system, the rule of law is paramount. India’s democratic values, press freedom and commitment to the rule of law within its borders are generally well respected globally. When it comes to Jammu & Kashmir (J&K), the standards fall short of global benchmarks and Kashmiri expectations. The current state of human, civil and political rights, civil liberties, freedom of speech and assembly and press freedom in J&K does not meet international benchmarks.
In such a backdrop, the statements issued by the Human Rights Watch (HRW) and the Amnesty International (AI), to some extent, about the Kashmir situation this week seem to have fallen short of expectations in Kashmir. AI’s demand for release of human rights activists is welcome. HRW’s point that the J&K government should carry out a High Court order to ensure protection for the arrested children is welcome too, but the language used leaves a lot to be desired. J&K High Court has not given directions to the government on the establishment of juvenile courts and observation homes for children only, it routine gives directions on a number of cases of detention, arbitrary arrests, etc; which the government chooses to ignore and which HRW has chosen to remain mum about.
HRW said “Hundreds of these children, locally known as the "stone pelters," are at risk of arbitrary detention and abuse as authorities struggle to identify the often-masked culprits and contain the protests.” An international human rights body is not expected to use terms like “often masked culprits”, which sounds too judgmental. The language used also seeks to absolve the central government of its responsibilities in Kashmir, which has the primary and the final say on law and order and security matters in Kashmir. Both the organizations did not speak about the curbs on civilian movement, freedom of expression, freedom of assembly, undeclared curfews, ban on SMS use, media clamp down, threats to Facebook users, etc.
HRW’s struggle to strike a balance in its stand seems to have lost sight of some plain facts. It said “Teenagers have thrown stones at security forces and destroyed public and private property. To contain the rioters, the police have sometimes used excessive force, causing deaths and injuries with live bullets, rubber bullets, and teargas canisters.” Use of such language creates some degree of justification for arrest of children.
Quoting Meenakshi Ganguly, South Asia director at HRW, the statement said, "Violent protesters and the people inciting them are breaking the law and should be punished…but the J&K government needs to comply with Indian and international law for detention and prosecution, and give special attention to the requirements for
children." While mentioning the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC), HRW’s statement read, “CRC, to which India is a party, permits the prosecution of children for criminal offenses but requires authorities to arrest or detain a child only as a matter of last resort and for the shortest appropriate time. Every detained child has the right to prompt access to legal and other appropriate assistance.” But the question that arises is: does participation in peaceful protests by
children amount to criminal offence?
Ms Ganguly’s statement, "The authorities believe that greed and misplaced anger motivates these children to commit violence," adding "But leaving children vulnerable to abuse in detention, without proper access to justice, will only fuel the unrest" again raises some serious questions. The use of words like “greed” and “misplaced” anger with children are highly judgmental.
The HRW statement further said that “the protesters as well as the security forces have been responsible for casualties during the protest marches.” It is, again, something which is far from the truth. The HRW statement’s use of terms “apparently” “allegedly” makes certain political statements which are unbecoming of an advocacy-based human rights group. A human rights group of such repute is supposed to do its home work well and not rely on desk work alone – without engaging in fact finding on the ground by impartial people devoid of a political baggage of their own.
(c) Arjimand Hussain. Not to be reproduced anywhere else.
In any credible democratic system, the rule of law is paramount. India’s democratic values, press freedom and commitment to the rule of law within its borders are generally well respected globally. When it comes to Jammu & Kashmir (J&K), the standards fall short of global benchmarks and Kashmiri expectations. The current state of human, civil and political rights, civil liberties, freedom of speech and assembly and press freedom in J&K does not meet international benchmarks.
In such a backdrop, the statements issued by the Human Rights Watch (HRW) and the Amnesty International (AI), to some extent, about the Kashmir situation this week seem to have fallen short of expectations in Kashmir. AI’s demand for release of human rights activists is welcome. HRW’s point that the J&K government should carry out a High Court order to ensure protection for the arrested children is welcome too, but the language used leaves a lot to be desired. J&K High Court has not given directions to the government on the establishment of juvenile courts and observation homes for children only, it routine gives directions on a number of cases of detention, arbitrary arrests, etc; which the government chooses to ignore and which HRW has chosen to remain mum about.
HRW said “Hundreds of these children, locally known as the "stone pelters," are at risk of arbitrary detention and abuse as authorities struggle to identify the often-masked culprits and contain the protests.” An international human rights body is not expected to use terms like “often masked culprits”, which sounds too judgmental. The language used also seeks to absolve the central government of its responsibilities in Kashmir, which has the primary and the final say on law and order and security matters in Kashmir. Both the organizations did not speak about the curbs on civilian movement, freedom of expression, freedom of assembly, undeclared curfews, ban on SMS use, media clamp down, threats to Facebook users, etc.
HRW’s struggle to strike a balance in its stand seems to have lost sight of some plain facts. It said “Teenagers have thrown stones at security forces and destroyed public and private property. To contain the rioters, the police have sometimes used excessive force, causing deaths and injuries with live bullets, rubber bullets, and teargas canisters.” Use of such language creates some degree of justification for arrest of children.
Quoting Meenakshi Ganguly, South Asia director at HRW, the statement said, "Violent protesters and the people inciting them are breaking the law and should be punished…but the J&K government needs to comply with Indian and international law for detention and prosecution, and give special attention to the requirements for
children." While mentioning the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC), HRW’s statement read, “CRC, to which India is a party, permits the prosecution of children for criminal offenses but requires authorities to arrest or detain a child only as a matter of last resort and for the shortest appropriate time. Every detained child has the right to prompt access to legal and other appropriate assistance.” But the question that arises is: does participation in peaceful protests by
children amount to criminal offence?
Ms Ganguly’s statement, "The authorities believe that greed and misplaced anger motivates these children to commit violence," adding "But leaving children vulnerable to abuse in detention, without proper access to justice, will only fuel the unrest" again raises some serious questions. The use of words like “greed” and “misplaced” anger with children are highly judgmental.
The HRW statement further said that “the protesters as well as the security forces have been responsible for casualties during the protest marches.” It is, again, something which is far from the truth. The HRW statement’s use of terms “apparently” “allegedly” makes certain political statements which are unbecoming of an advocacy-based human rights group. A human rights group of such repute is supposed to do its home work well and not rely on desk work alone – without engaging in fact finding on the ground by impartial people devoid of a political baggage of their own.
(c) Arjimand Hussain. Not to be reproduced anywhere else.
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