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In Pakistan an honour killing epidemic
by Rabia Mehmood
Aurat Foundation, agencies
Pakistan
 
June 2014
 
Robin Zia lives a full life - has a family, a business, owns property in Lahore and goes to church every Sunday. The fact that 12 years back he had butchered his sister Zeenat with her husband, whom she had married against their will, does not have any bearing on his conscience. When I went to meet him at his house, he was very respectful, offered me lunch and called me "Aapi"- an Urdu word for an elder sister. While he remembers the act of killing his sister with a butcher knife with a pained expression, he would not accept that the idea of "honour" or his fear of society''s reaction to his sister marrying out of her own free will was misplaced, let alone a crime.
 
To him and his courteous brother Salman Zia - who abetted the murder, while the act of killing was committed by Robin - they were men with the burden of avenging the wrong done by their sister. As they tried to explain their reasons for the murders, they did not see any other course than killing their sister and her husband.
 
"When one''s daughter or sister runs away from home, a man''s mind cannot see beyond that betrayal of trust by the woman. And please tell us what could be the alternative solution, in such circumstances?"
 
While there were moments of remorse, their imaginations stopped there.
 
Robin and his brother were released after a few months in prison through statement of forgiveness by their mother, through the "qisas" and "diyat" ordinance - stipulations based on an interpretation of Sharia or Islamic law, that permit compoundability of murder. While their mother grieved for her daughter, she could not lose her sons. Human rights defenders have been suggesting for years that the state should not use this compoundability - at least in cases of women''s honour killings.
 
This casual bargain between blood relations over a dead body of a female relative is what Farzana Parveen''s family is counting on as well. On May 27, when 25-year-old Farzana Parveen was brutally killed with bricks outside the Lahore High Court, condemnations came pouring in through international and domestic press. This uproar against the killing was loud enough that the Pakistani prime minister eventually "took notice". In cases where the prime minister or chief minister of provinces take notice of incidents of gross human rights violation, the result at best is an investigation, a trial and maybe a just verdict.
 
However, expecting consequential structural changes is a bit much in Pakistan. We are still at a point where rights groups and defenders are struggling to convince parliamentarians to throw their weight behind legislation that protects women and ensures effective implementation.
 
The furor over the bad publicity for Pakistan and the fact that we were being painted as a society tolerant of barbaric acts such as killings, has also resulted in a few clerics who call themselves moderate declaring "fatwas", or Islamic edicts, against killing women in the name of honour.
 
At the same time, these same clerics have repeatedly taken - and continue to take - heinous stances against religious minorities in Pakistan and endorse the controversial blasphemy laws. Therefore, such moves may help burnish the state''s image a little, but there is not much hope of this decree being effective.
 
Following Farzana''s killing, it was soon reported that her husband had killed his first wife to marry Farzana out of love, and that he had already paid her family a price, which was not enough for her family - and that was what led to her bludgeoning in broad daylight. Just like thousands of murders of women over the so-called honour of men, all it reveals is the impunity with which women can be murdered here, and the role the lack of legislation has played in perpetuating the barbaric practice.
 
English-language newspapers in Pakistan frequently publish news briefs with stories of honour killings and violence against women. Often within a week, two or three incidents of femicides are recorded. Sometimes, honour is not even the motive; women are just burnt or killed by the family members for not bringing enough dowry. Yes, that still happens too.
 
This is the value of a woman''s murder in the name of what the society still refers to as "honour" in a now comparatively sensitised Pakistan. The distance of such crimes from the provincial capitals is another reason for lack of focus and investigation by the press. As a society, we are desensitised to cases of violence against women, acid attacks and honour killings, because the general view is that these crimes are committed mostly against women who are poor or in villages. In fact to us, the aforementioned crimes are just numbers released by women''s rights organisation after every six months, or at the end of a year, which are then highlighted by certain liberal newspapers.
 
Rights activists who investigate honour killings and cases of violence against women have detected a pattern in which women bear the brunt of a political fight over land and face sexual harassment from landlords. Such crimes are sometimes passed off as honour killings. For instance, most murders happen when there is time for harvesting in rural areas across Pakistan. Women''s rights activist and lawyer Maliha Zia of Aurat Foundation says that unless the state takes responsibility and considers these murders crimes against the state instead crimes against ordinary individuals, we will remain stuck.
 
How many Farzanas and Zeenats will catch the public''s eye or have their murders highlighted so that we may see the perpetrators charged is a problem that unfortunately in the foreseeable future I do not see any resolution for. I am not wondering about an eradication of honour killing entirely because that would be just my fantasy.
 
* Rabia Mehmood is a freelance journalist based out of Pakistan.


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In world"s largest democracy, more lawmakers charged with crime
by Sruthi Gottipati
Reuters, agencies
 
More legislators charged with crimes will sit in India"s new parliament than previously, a democracy watchdog has reported, in a reminder that crime still pays in the world"s largest democracy.
 
Prime minister-elect Narendra Modi, who made fighting graft a central plank of his victorious campaign, won a stunning mandate to govern India by claiming the first clear majority in three decades.
 
But many of his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) colleagues elected to the new parliament face serious criminal charges. Four out of the nine legislators who face murder cases come from his party.
 
Thirty-four percent of the winners in India"s election have criminal cases pending against them, four percentage points more than in 2009, analysis of the candidates affidavits by the Association for Democratic Reforms found.
 
Of that, 21 percent were charged with serious crimes such as murder, kidnapping and sexual assault, up from 15 percent in the last election, the group said.
 
In India, political parties are more likely to field criminals who are able to pay their own way. Election expenses have soared, with as much as $5 billion estimated to have been spent in this election.
 
Moreover, criminals are often winners, with voters choosing candidates they think will take care of their parochial interests when the state isn"t able to, analysts say.
 
Criminals who have easy access to liquid forms of financing can see politics as a lucrative career.
 
"Many of these deep-pocketed candidates view the money they must spend on elections ... as a down payment on an investment that offers serious returns," Milan Vaishnav of the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace wrote in a recent commentary.
 
Oct 2014
 
Lynching of boy underlines how the curse of caste still blights India. Sai Ram, burned alive because of a stray goat, was just one of 17,000 Dalits to fall victim to caste violence in the state of Bihar alone, write Jason Burke in Delhi and Manoj Chaurasia in Patna for The Guardian.
 
In another time, another place, Sai Ram might have escaped serious harm. But he died in great pain last week, a casualty of a bitter, barely reported conflict that still claims many lives every year.
 
Ram, 15, was a goatherd in a village in the poor eastern Indian state of Bihar. He was a Dalit, from the lowest rung of the caste hierarchy that still defines the lives, and sometimes the deaths, of millions of people in the emerging economic power.
 
His alleged killer, currently being held by local police, is from a higher landowning caste. He took offence when one of the teenager’s goats strayed on to his paddy field and grazed on his crops. Ram was overpowered by the landowner and a group of other men. He was badly beaten.
 
Then petrol was poured over him and lit, Ram’s father, Jiut Ram, said. “He was crying for help, then went silent,” the 50-year-old daily wage labourer told the Guardian.
 
The incident took place at Mohanpur village, about 125 miles (200km) south-west of Bihar’s capital, Patna, in an area known for caste tensions. It was the latest in a series of violent incidents that have once again highlighted the problems and discrimination linked to caste, particularly in lawless and impoverished rural areas.
 
Earlier this month, five Dalit women were allegedly gang-raped by upper-caste men in central Bihar’s Bhojpur district. In September, hundreds of Dalit families were forced from their homes in two other districts of Bihar after a man from the community tried to contest a local election against higher caste candidates.
 
Several political, social and economic factors usually lie behind such upsurges in caste-related violence. One reason for Bihar’s recent incidents may be the appointment in May of Jitan Ram Manjhi, a Dalit, as the chief minister of the state.
 
Since taking power Manjhi has announced measures to help other Dalits in Bihar, one of India’s poorest states, and is reported to have urged the community to have more children to become a more powerful political force.
 
Dalits account for some 15% of Bihar’s population of 103.8 million.
 
The chief minister’s call was not well received by members of other castes, local observers said.
 
Sachindra Narayan, a prominent Patna-based social scientist with the National Human Rights Commission in Delhi, said: “The prime reason [for the violence] is that [Dalits] feel empowered after seeing someone from their community at the head of the state and have begun to assert their rights. This is purely a retaliation from the dominant social groups.”
 
Manjhi claims a temple in northern Bihar was ritually cleaned and idols washed with holy water after his visit to the shrine. Such ceremonies are still performed by upper castes to eradicate “pollution” left by lower-caste visitors.
 
“A deep-rooted bias prevails against … those from the downtrodden sections of society … I have myself been a victim of caste bias,” the 70-year-old said.
 
Opponents claim Manjhi was stoking caste tensions for political advantage.
 
In the vast neighbouring state of Uttar Pradesh, caste is also a major political issue, with power contested by two parties that broadly represent two different caste communities. That of Mayawati explicity campaigns for Dalits, while the ruling Samajwadi party is seen by many as representing the Yadavcommunity, once pastoralists.
 
Caste became a factor in recent national elections too. The prime minister, Narendra Modi, comes from a poor family from the lower-caste Ghanchicommunity, which is associated with selling oil. His rise from humble origins to leader of 1.25 billion people has inspired many – but also provoked scorn from elite politicians who have mocked his background.
 
The origins of caste are contested. Some point to ancient religious texts, others to rigid classifications of more local definitions of community and identities by British imperial administrators. The word “caste” is of Portuguese origin.
 
Sociologists say the rapid urbanisation of India has weakened the caste system as the realities of living in overcrowded Indian cities make reinforcing social separation and discrimination through rituals or violence much harder.
 
But if change is coming to places like rural Bihar, it is often accompanied by violence.
 
Last October a roadside bomb killed Sunil Pandey, a landowner who was alleged to be a senior figure in a militia formed in 1994 to enforce the interests of higher castes in the state, but which has been largely dormant recently.
 
The Ranvir Sena militia, formed by men of the Bhumihar caste of landlords, is held responsible for a series of massacres of Dalits in the 1990s. These murders, in effect reprisals against local Maoist guerrillas, who have also killed many, reached a bloody climax with the deaths of 58 men, women and children with no connection to extremism in the village of Lakshman Bathe in 1998. Ranvir Sena and Pandey were blamed.
 
Last year 24 men had their convictions for that massacre overturned by Bihar’s high court, prompting renewed clashes.
 
The authorities have pledged rapid justice for Ram, the 15-year-old burned to death last week. But of nearly 17,000 pending trials in Bihar involving charges of violence against Dalits only a 10th were dealt with last year.
 
“We are going to … start speedy trial of the case,” Chandan Kumar Kushwaha, the local superintendent of police, said, while the chief minister told reporters he was taking a personal interest in the case.
 
“I have talked to the state’s director general of police and district superintendent of police concerned, and ordered them to … deliver instant justice to the victim family,” Manjhi said.
 
For the teenager’s father, nothing can compensate for the death of his son. “My entire world is lost now,” he said.
 
http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/oct/19/lynching-boy-underlines-curse-caste-still-blights-india


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