[But instead of arresting the
jihadist preacher, as many moderate Pakistanis would like, the authorities
simply turned off the city’s cell networks last Friday from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m.,
the traditional time for Friday Prayer, according to senior Pakistani
officials, speaking on condition of anonymity because they were not authorized
to talk to the news media.]
Maulana
Abdul Aziz, center, the radical preacher of the Red Mosque, at a
news
conference in
Credit
European Pressphoto Agency
|
ISLAMABAD, Pakistan — All
cellphone coverage was blocked by the government for three hours one recent
afternoon in the Pakistani capital, and it did not take people long to discover
why: Maulana Abdul Aziz, the radical preacher of the Red Mosque, was
sermonizing again.
Barred from giving sermons in
the mosque, the scene of an army siege on extremists that killed as many as
75 people in 2007, Mr. Aziz had announced that he would relay his latest Friday
sermon by cellphone, calling aides at the mosque who would rebroadcast it over
the mosque’s loudspeakers.
But instead of arresting the
jihadist preacher, as many moderate Pakistanis would like, the authorities
simply turned off the city’s cell networks last Friday from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m.,
the traditional time for Friday Prayer, according to senior Pakistani
officials, speaking on condition of anonymity because they were not authorized
to talk to the news media.
Mr. Aziz’s relative
untouchability is a measure of how enduring the power of militant Islamist
ideology has remained in Pakistan.
Even as thePakistani military has driven some jihadist groups out of
business or into hiding over the past year, other technically banned jihadist
or sectarian groups like Lashkar-e-Taiba and Ahle Sunnat Wal Jamaat are still thriving,
with little apparent effort by the government or military to curb them.
The ascendance of such groups
and of radical mosques and madrasas was well underway during the years that Tashfeen Malik, half of the husband-wife pair of
attackers in California, returned to Pakistan for her university education in
Punjab Province.
Many Pakistani officials have
been quick to suggest that Ms. Malik must have found her extremist beliefs
while she was growing up in Saudi
Arabia. But the reality in Pakistan is that hard-line Islamist
views in line with some of the most conservative Saudi teachings are more
mainstream than ever.
While the Shariah law the hard-liners here tend to espouse
calls for their women to be kept in purdah — strictly separated from men at all
times — some Pakistani women have been at the fore in pushing
That fact came into view most
prominently with the case of Aafia Siddiqui, a Pakistani neuroscientist and
member of Al Qaeda who was convicted in 2010 of trying to kill American personnel
in Afghanistan . She is serving an 86-year
prison sentence in the United States .
A recent example popped up here
at the Jamia Hafsa school, a girls’ madrasa attached to Mr. Aziz’s Red Mosque.
About 15 of the older students recently posted a video of themselves in full
burqas in front of the flag of the Islamic State, praising the group’s leader,
Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, and asking him to come help them avenge their followers
and others who have been killed — especially Osama
bin Laden.
“May God annihilate America and those who support it,”
their spokeswoman said. “We pray for you every night here in the land of Pakistan .”
Mr. Aziz, sitting this week in
the Martyr Osama Bin Laden Library at the school, said the girls who took
part in the video were scolded for their actions. “We have nothing to do with
this video: Some students in an individual capacity did this, but we don’t
endorse it,” Mr. Aziz said. “We told them not to do this.”
He added, however, that “this
is kind of a reaction to what the West has been doing in this region the last
30 years.”
Often derided in the Pakistani
press as Mullah Burqa — he tried unsuccessfully to escape the Red Mosque siege
disguised in a burqa — Mr. Aziz, after a period of detention following the 2007
siege, has re-emerged as an apparently untouchable force in Pakistani society.
That is true even as some of the armed groups he has openly admired in the past
have been marginalized by an effective Pakistani Army campaign over the past
year.
That is the case with the
once-powerful Pakistani Taliban, as even a senior official of the insurgents,
meeting privately with a Western journalist last week, conceded.
“In Pakistan we can hardly operate
anymore,” he said, saying the organization has mostly moved to Afghanistan and has forged closer ties
with the Afghan Taliban.
“In Afghanistan , we have no problem going anywhere.”
He attributed the Pakistani
Taliban’s declining fortunes to the Taliban’s bloody attack on a military school in Peshawar last December, in which 145
students were slaughtered. “That was a flawed strategy from our leadership; it
was disastrous for us,” he said.
The public outcry was a
tremendous lift to the military and its anti-militant operations — which many
had earlier complained were halfhearted at best — against the Pakistani Taliban
and some of their allies.
“They have been defeated
militarily,” said Saleem Safi, a prominent journalist and commentator on Geo TV
here. “But their ideology has not been defeated. Islamic extremism or militancy
can emerge in a changed shape in this region anytime.”
The prevalence of that ideology
has become a factor even in the news and entertainment industry. Take, for
instance, the relatively mainstream commentator and television host Zaid
Hamid, with almost
800,000 “likes” on his official Facebook
page and a warm
relationship with Pakistan’s de facto military rulers, who has long espoused
views regarded elsewhere as extremist or at least on the fringe.
The Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, he insists, were
engineered by the C.I.A., which also helped the Indian intelligence service
introduce suicide bombing to Pakistan , in Mr. Hamid’s view. The
killing of Bin Laden in Pakistan by a United States Navy SEAL
team had to have been faked, because the Qaeda leader was not even in Pakistan .
Then there is this recent post:
“I told you years ago that ISIS is
Jewish Israel secret service gangs pretending to be Muslim jihadis.” As
evidence, Mr. Hamid cited a Daily Mail article about Israeli medics treating Islamist
battle casualties in Syria .
As for Ms. Malik and her
husband, Syed Rizwan Farouk, they were clearly executed, Mr. Hamid said, in
order to blame Pakistan for the crime. The real
killers were masked unknowns.
“Both Tashfeen and her husband
were handcuffed, sitting in their car when police killed them,” Mr. Hamid
asserted, citing a photograph of a body, said to be Mr. Farouk but not
authenticated, showing him handcuffed and lying in a pool of blood. Those
claims are not restricted to Mr. Hamid. They have been spreading across social
media, and some of Ms. Malik’s family members have also claimed the couple were
framed.
That such views, and places
like the Red Mosque and schools that adhere to its creed, find such a wide
audience raises questions about how effective any military-only campaign
against militancy can be in the long term, some argue.
“The state needs a
comprehensive counterterrorism plan,” said Muhammad Amir Rana, the director of
the Pak Institute for Peace Studies.“This whole
menace of terrorism cannot be dealt with purely as a security threat. The
ideological threat still needs to be addressed.”