When Outlook asked me to write this column, it was hard to say no. How do you explain that your knuckles are bruised and swollen beyond recognition? That a wave of sheer agony shoots across your nerves each time you press a key?
When 'they' poisoned my dog recently, a former interior minister had warned me: 'Be careful. This is not a good sign, especially when your premises have been entered.' At the time, it was a very personal, very emotional matter.
That changed on Monday night, when steel-tipped police batons ruthlessly smashed across my chest and a voice shouted in the darkness: 'Is da bee oh hal karo jo asee is da kotay da keeasee.' ('Treat her as we treated her dog.') As the onslaught continued and younger colleagues came forward to take the brunt, I froze. I was not scared, just shocked. At last, I realised what had happened to my pet.
This was the second consecutive day on which there was a lathi-charge. We were outnumbered. The worst injuries were to Shakil Sheikh, chief reporter, The News. But the latest clash between the Jang group, owners of the largest-selling Urdu daily and The News, and the government has highlighted other issues. Journalists across Pakistan have raised the issue of hiring staff on contracts. Shakil-ur-Rehman, owner of the Jang group, has promised that he will stop the contract system.
On Tuesday, journalists held a peaceful demonstration against the contract system in front of Parliament. Over the past few days, I had noticed a man in plainclothes filming us, and I confronted him. The reply was straightforward: 'I am from the special branch and the intelligence agencies.' Told that this was not a mujra, nor had Osama Bin Laden joined us, he abused us. Then the police moved in.
The Supreme Court had directed on Tuesday morning that newsprint in Karachi we had paid for should be released. That was too much for Nawaz Sharif's government. Chief Ehtesab commissioner Saif-ur-Rehman unleashed the fia (Federal Intelligence Agency), who confiscated a truck containing newsprint. We went to the fia crime circle to have the truck released, but it had already been moved. (The three workers and the driver with the truck are still missing.) A verbal clash erupted when we demanded the return of our truck; it was followed by orders to beat up the journalists.
It was not the physical thrashing that hurt the most, but the rain of abuses that followed each stroke of the batons. It's impossible to explain the humiliationóthese are unseen bruises that you live with for the rest of your life.
It took me back to 1992, when journalists who covered Benazir Bhutto's march were beaten on Nawaz Sharif's orders. I was beaten too, but when the police also asked: 'Are you a Muslim?' I broke down. Supporters from the nwfp and the Fata tribal area were furious. 'How could you cry just because you were beaten?' they asked. But never before had my faith been questioned.
This time, the journalist community has been united by the tapes released by the Jang owner that show Saif-ur-Rehman asking him to sack senior journalists, including editor Maleeha Lodhi, and giving him directions on how to run the paper. The battle wasn't over customs duties and tax evasion any moreóit was about the freedom of the press. Unsurprisingly, the Nawai Waqt group and The Nation stayed out, blacking out all press coverage.
On Wednesday, events took a drastic turn. Our building had been taken over by the fia and the police, so we had great difficulty 'smuggling' in our newsprint. We asked Ausaf editor Hamid Mir to sell us some newsprint - other distributors had been forced to give written undertakings not to sell newsprint to Jang.When Saif-ur-Rehman found out on Thursday, he threatened Hamid Mir. Ausaf's distributing vans were stopped, the papers seized, and one driver was stabbed. 'I was right,' says Hamid Mir, 'it was not only Jang, Ausaf was next. Other papers will be the new targets.'
Acase has been registered against three journalists of The News, including me, for entering fia premises when we tried to have Jang's truck released. The case cites but does not name 80 other workers, giving 'them' the license to pick up anyone they want to.
The state must differentiate between unarmed journalists and political workers. Should we now emulate the rest of the country, which is arming itself for protection? I began carrying a weapon in 1992, when threats of rape and abduction were made. I don't think I have the courage to kill. But as a woman I won't have my body abused. Yes, I will use my weapon in self-defense. Any punishment after that will be useless, since I would have died in the real sense.
The phone calls started in the last ten days. 'We know where your family is. After what we do to you, even your father will disown you.' This is the most unfair part, when they pull in a family that has no part in this battle.
Hard-core Pakhtoons say: 'Enough is enough. This is the second time that this Punjabi shopkeeper of a prime minister has physically beaten up a Pakhtoon woman. We will now not sit idle.' But my fight is not only against the state's fascist tendencies. My own battles at home are even more difficult to fight in this male chauvinist society.
Telephone calls are coming in from the entire cabinet. I laugh when they sympathise. One cabinet member says, 'Enough is enough. I am going to the prime minister to tell him that they should go no further.' 'Which prime minister?' I ask. The silence at the other end is deafening.
