Archive for October, 2007

Bhutto calls for tighter controls on spy agencies

Monday, October 29th, 2007

The Toronto Star, October 29, 2007
Sonya Fatah

KARACHI–Food, clothing, housing. It’s still the slogan of Benazir Bhutto’s party. But if she hopes to succeed as prime minister of Pakistan, Bhutto will also have to triumph over the country’s free-wheeling intelligence agencies and root out their rogue elements.

Amid the increasing threat of terror attacks, Bhutto, a former prime minister and the country’s most popular political leader, is setting herself up for a battle against Pakistan’s most powerful institutions.

“I have long held that there is an unfortunate relationship between the former Afghan mujahideen that were formed by the then (Inter-Services Intelligence), and some of their supporters who have infiltrated our security services and administration,” Bhutto said in an interview at her Karachi home.

The frontal attack on the country’s shadowy Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), known as a “state within the state,” on the eve of negotiating a power-sharing agreement with President Pervez Musharraf signals Bhutto’s readiness to tackle extremism in Pakistan.

In the 1 1/2 weeks since she returned from an eight-year self-imposed exile, Bhutto has insisted that addressing Pakistan’s myriad problems requires cleansing the ISI, the security service’s external branch of pro-Islamist forces, and preventing the internal branch, the Intelligence Bureau, from interfering in the political process.

But the task isn’t going to be easy.

“There is extreme reluctance to move against the extremist entities within the agencies particularly the Taliban who helped the ISI out in Afghanistan,” said Ahmed Rashid, a Pakistani journalist. “There is a lack of neutral and effective intelligence because the intelligence was skewed by sympathizers within the agencies.”

Formed in 1948, the ISI was initially consumed by external threats from India and Afghanistan. But the agency’s mandate grew under the 11-year military dictatorship of Gen. Zia ul-Haq that ran through most of the 1980s. During that period, the agency became the executive arm of the pro-U.S. proxy war against the Soviet occupation in Afghanistan. The ISI developed strong ties with the mujahideen and later exploited those ties to further their own policy of strategic depth in the region.

Following a recruitment drive to hire agents sympathetic to the cause of the mujahideen, the agency had no shortage of officers who believed that a pro-Islamist agenda should be the key component of a long-term goal. That goal – which led to financing and training the Taliban – is backfiring on Pakistan as extremists target high-ranking officials within the country.

Within the ISI, the problem is not just with Zia’s protégés. Analysts believe the post 9/11 environment has created its own breed of pro-Islamists in the region.

“Jihadis are unlikely to have contacts at the highest level of intelligence. Those connections are more of a liability,” says Kamran Bokhari, with U.S.-based intelligence gathering company, Stratfor. “They need people at the lowest levels.”

The ISI isn’t Bhutto’s only headache. The country’s domestic wing comes with its own problems.

The Intelligence Bureau, which was part of British India’s espionage agency, is notorious for illegal wire-tapping, harassment of political leaders and orchestrating the rigging of elections.

Immediately after the Oct. 18 suicide attack on Bhutto’s cavalcade that left some 140 people dead, her husband, Asif Zardari named the bureau’s chief, Brig. Ejaz Shah, as a potential mastermind behind an assassination plot.

Bhutto’s Pakistan People’s Party has toned down its allegations since then and demanded an international inquiry to determine who was responsible for the attacks.

“The PPP has a history with Ejaz Shah,” said a senior party member and former government official.

“In 2002, as home secretary, he was responsible for rigging the elections in Punjab. This is the point Benazir is trying to make.”

During her second term as prime minister, Bhutto, in an attempt to erode the military influence of the ISI, strengthened the domestic agency. But the effort only increased the problem by creating tensions between the two intelligence branches.

Popularity: 3% [?]

Marginalized shine on Indian reality TV

Tuesday, October 16th, 2007

IDOL HANDS

Idol franchise challenges barriers of caste, ethnicity
The Toronto Star, Oct 16, 2007
Sonya Fatah

NEW DELHI–For three months this summer, India’s best loved celebrity figures – film stars and cricketers – took a back seat to an unknown group of young men and women from across the country.

These no-names were suddenly everywhere – on massive billboards lining major highways, in newspapers and magazines and on almost every television channel. Thousands of bloggers enthusiastically documented their every move.

These strangers were the chosen few who made it to the final stages of the third season of Indian Idol – a variant of the popular reality TV singing contest that gave birth to American Idol and Canadian Idol.

The euphoria had escalated so much by September that fixated viewers were planning entire weekends around the shows.

Television viewership records were broken and 70 million votes were cast as fans racked up huge cellphone bills hoping to catapult their chosen Indian idol to victory.

There isn’t a simple explanation for why a singing contest show featuring a bunch of unknown aspiring singers has been such a mass hit in India.

It’s a combination of the show’s anyone-can-win attraction, and its success in reaching out to a wider, more marginalized states of the Indian public, in addition to the current upbeat sense of achievement in India as its international image has blossomed.

Moreover, reality TV shows such as Indian Idol are successfully challenging India’s social barriers of caste, class and ethnicity, giving every Indian the chance to dream, and dream big.

“It’s not just about talent,” says Niret Alva, president of Midtech, the production house behind Indian Idol. “Its attraction works at many different levels. It’s an avenue of self-expression, an avenue that allows for disparate parts of India to be mainstreamed.”

It’s not easy to become a star in a country of 1 billion people. In the cut-throat world of Bollywood, for example, most of the current talent come from famous film dynasties, or are well-known fashion models.

On Indian Idol, however, you don’t have to be someone to make it. Instead, the show offers anyone in any part of India a chance to make careers in showbiz.

“There is a whole generation of young Indians who, thanks to democratic formats like Indian idol, are able to realize their dreams if they have the talent,” says Albert Almeida, executive vice-president of Sony Entertainment Television, the channel that aired Indian Idol.

What made Season 3 of Indian Idol especially popular was that it reached out to a bigger cross-section of the Indian population by auditioning contestants from smaller towns.

Producers scoped for talent in 14 cities, reaching viewers desperate to see more of their kind represented in Tinseltown.

By making stars out of young people from regions better known for terror and violence, these shows are challenging negative stereotypes, and drawing hundreds of thousands of new fans.

The winner, Prashant Tamang, 24, is of Nepalese origin and hails from Darjeeling in east India. The other finalist, Amit Paul, 24, is from Shillong, capital of Meghalaya, a little-known state in India’s northeast.

“I am the first Nepali to be on this stage. I am sure my achievement is a matter of pride for the whole Nepali community across the world,” Tamang told a local newspaper.

Passion ran so high that nearly 2,000 supporters of Tamang marched to protest a radio deejay’s derogatory comments about him. Indian troops had to be called after more than 30 people were hurt in clashes between police and fans.

Popularity: 3% [?]

Rock anthem sends message of peace

Thursday, October 11th, 2007

Eight Pakistani singers join forces to try to root out misconceptions that most Muslims support terror

The Toronto Star, Oct 11, 2007
SONYA FATAH

ISLAMABAD–An anti-terrorist anthem by rock stars in Pakistan is reaching out across the web, echoing the music-with-a-message efforts of Bob Geldof and Bono.

But instead of a Christmas appeal for famine relief, or an environmental plea, Pakistan’s latest musical collaboration by eight top stars takes aim at popular misconceptions of Muslims that stereotype them as terrorists despite Islam’s legacy of peace.

Their song – “Yeh Hum Naheen” (This is Not Us) – is a video collage showing images of average Pakistani youth voicing opposition to the terror label. Its aim? To send a message of unity to Pakistani youth and to root out the impression that most Pakistanis support terror.

It’s up against seemingly non-stop media coverage of suicide bombings, sectarian killings and tribal strife across Pakistan, Afghanistan and the Middle East.

“This is not us, not us, not us,” the song begins. “The stories that are being spread in our names are lies.”

The idea for an Islamic rock video with global appeal took root quickly among Pakistan’s music elite, but the musical wave is travelling relatively slowly by the standards of the Web. Downloads are in the tens of thousands, far from the millions of record sales and donations for Ethiopian famine relief attracted by Irish rocker Geldof’s “Do They Know it’s Christmas.”

It’s hard to gauge the impact of “Yeh Hum Naheen” on listeners in Pakistan or overseas. Accurate sales records are not available in Pakistan although the song played constantly on MTV Pakistan for four weeks when it was released in February. Then there was enough demand for a July release in Britain. In Pakistan, a nation of more than 160 million, the numbers are small. Since its release, there have been about 73,000 hits on YouTube and the “Yeh Hum Naheen” website has been visited 26,000 times.

But it’s a start. Musical collaborations are rare in Pakistan, so getting eight stars to record a single together was no simple feat – akin to persuading Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake, Beyoncé and Shakira to make music together.

“So many people approach us with their causes,” Ali Zafar, 27, Pakistan’s hottest young singer, said in an interview. “But I was interested in this cause from the start.”

Zafar, who sang before 10,000 fans at Canada’s Wonderland in Vaughan last summer, says he wanted to make a difference.

“I thought about it – what do I really want to do with my music? If I could somehow use my music to connect the world, why not? I think the media are providing a certain kind of awareness to the public. We see one colour of Pakistan being splashed all over the place. Where are the 20,000 different colours in our palette?”

Pakistanis in the diaspora feel that frustration as much as anyone. For them the song is a visual way of rounding out Pakistan’s public face.

“I like the video in that it’s good to see Pakistanis uniting and taking a political stand,” says Nadya Habib, 28, an elementary school teacher in Toronto who watched the video on YouTube. “I feel that people have begun to internalize the negative images they have been bombarded with, and it’s definitely affecting the younger generation a lot.”

She’s skeptical of whether it will bring change unless there is a stronger response from the larger Pakistani public.

The song’s inspiration emerged from the experiences of two brothers in Birmingham, England. Khurrum and Khaiyyam Mahmood, 20 and 18 respectively, who asked their father to do something about the image of Islam being propagated by young Muslims in Britain.

“Some children came to my children and told them they were bad Muslims because they ate pasta,” says Waseem Mahmood, 45, their father, a media consultant and a former BBC producer, who says “Yeh Hum Naheen” is his way of bridging a perception gap between the West and Islam.

So Mahmood decided he’d turn to music and Pakistan’s pop sensations to influence Pakistani youth at home and in the diaspora.

“It was such a worthy cause that all of us just jumped on board,” Haroon Rashid, one of the eight singers, told the BBC.

“There’s a lot of misunderstanding, mistrust. There’s a lot of fear of what’s different, of the unknown, and I guess this is an attempt to help bridge that.”

Mahmood says he’s been overwhelmed by the response he’s received since the single was aired. He’s also a proud dad since his sons shot and filmed the video.

He’s not, however, removed from the debate on home turf. The few negative voices, he says, disagree with his approach. “They believe this should be aimed at the real terrorists who are in Downing Street or in the White House.”

Now Mahmood is on a mission. “Yeh Hum Naheen” cost $60,000 but Mahmood feels this is just the beginning. The song hasn’t been released in North America yet but Mahmood has plans. He’s also planning a Band Aid or Live 8 style concert to continue his journey.

Popularity: 3% [?]

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

Wednesday, October 10th, 2007

Failed suicide bombers talk about the choices they made

SONYA FATAH
Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Farmanullah Guljaan, 17 sits behind bars in Poli Charkhi prison, some 15 kilometres east of Kabul. He would have been home in Lodhikhel village in the tribal areas, finishing up his high school degree if he hadn’t been taken in by Taliban evangelists showing up every day at his school and weaving heroic tales of martyrdom, passports to heaven and countless virgins to tend to his every need.

But Mr. Guljaan, who says his village is not a Taliban stronghold, found himself intoxicated by the thought of early entry past heaven’s gates. He dropped out of Kamaruddin School, where he was in eighth grade and began attending classes at a camp some distance away. Every time he went away to the camp, he told his parents who had eight other children to tend to, that he was going to visit relatives in Peshawar. They had no reason to be suspicious.

Mr. Guljaan’s ‘relatives’ turned out to be trainers at a local camp not too far away. After two years of being brainwashed with anti-American propaganda, Mr. Guljaan was given an assignment – he was to kill the governor of Jalalabad. The weapon of choice: explosives attached to his body.

Mr. Guljaan, however, failed to complete his mission. Afghanistan’s intelligence agency received word about his mission, and foiled the attack. The day Mr. Guljaan and his partner, Abdul Qudoos, also 17 arrived in Jalalabad, the two were detained. They have since spent the last few months in the lock-up, after a series of investigations have revealed the manner in which they were recruited, taught and sent on missions.

Their stories are not unusual. Their confessions are part of a growing file documenting the experiences of other young, impressionable teenagers easily groomed for revolution and brainwashed with anti-western propaganda. Of the many men sent on suicide missions few are caught before the deed is done. But Mr. Guljaan joins a group of 15 young men who have been arrested in Kabul by Afghan intelligence authorities since 2005. Most of the young men pulled out to commit attacks end up successful. Among those caught, few find themselves in Afghan jails. If caught before their mission is carried out, they usually detonate themselves to avoid capture.

“According to our information most of the young men who commit suicide bombs are between 13 and 20 years in age,” says Saeed Ansari a spokesman for the National Directorate of Security, or NDS, Afghanistan’s intelligence agency. “They are indoctrinated with religious views.” In some cases, Mr. Ansari said, those assigned to a mission were informed of their specific role through a hand-written letter, a veritable passport to heaven.

The training camps, Afghan authorities say, are all in Pakistan, although those who carry out the attacks can be Pakistani, Afghani, Chechen, Arab or Kazakh. Despite President Musharraf’s public offer to give absolute assistance to jointly work to root out the camps, NDS officers say cooperation with the Inter Services Intelligence, or the ISI, is non-existent.

Earlier this year, Afghan president Hamid Karzai pardoned failed suicide bomber, Rafiqullah, 15, who was from Shamen Qile in Mateen District in southern Waziristan. Mr. Rafiquallah’s mission had been to kill the governor of Khost province. His parents had no idea that he had been recruited by a madrassa in their village. After their son was returned to his home village with the president’s pardon and $2000 USD, his parents withdrew him from that madrassa. A host of other parents followed suit. The villagers of Rafiqullah’s area were so opposed to the madrassa’s activities that they came together and fought against Baitullah Masood, the 37-year old Taliban commander from Waziristan. Eventually, Mr. Masood withdrew.

Mr. Guljaan hopes that the president will be so kind to him. He is lodged, at present, at Poli Charkhi prison, set against the landscape of barren land and dusty mountainside. Built in the mid-1970s during the time of then-president Mohammed Daoud Khan, it is legendary for nighttime executions of political prisoners by communist forces in the country. Thousands of peoples were shot and killed, and a mass graves bearing their remains was unearthed in December 2006. Today there are about 1,300 prisoners here, about 350 of who have links with the Taliban.

Mr. Guljaan says he is well looked after here. There is even a madrassa that he attends to get increase his knowledge of Islam. Prior to going on his mission for the Taliban, Mr. Guljaan didn’t know much about Islam. He had read the Quran only in Arabic, a language he can read but not understand. His inspiration came from other sources.

“I saw a video on my cell phone. A video of American soldiers storming peoples houses, killing little children, and stamping on the Quran,” he says. That angered him but he was also excited at the prospect of being fast tracked to heaven. His father, who was a labourer, is currently unemployed he says.

Perhaps Mr. Guljaan’s less than convincing reasons for joining the movement also worried his Taliban commanders. Unlike most other suicide bombers, Mr. Guljaan was sent on his mission with a partner. The two were introduced to one another a day they set off for Afghanistan. The partner, Abdul Qudoos, was to egg Mr. Guljaan on, and set off the bomb by pressing a button on the remote control as Mr. Guljaan approached his target. He was then to return with news of their success.

But Mr. Qudoos and Mr. Guljaan were caught the night they entered Jalalabad, hours before they could complete their mission.

As he sits in jail contemplating his situation, Mr. Guljaan wonders what better fortunes awaited him if he hadn’t made what he describes today as a ‘big mistake.’ “I could’ve become a teacher, or gone into construction industry like my father,” he pauses. “I don’t know. How could I know?”

Some say the young failed suicide bombers reflect the tragic lack of proper guidance from community leaders, parents and the state.

“At that age your capacity to think is not developed,” said a senior NDS official who did not want to be named. “You are more a receiver of information or knowledge and haven’t shaped your own way of thinking yet.”

It’s difficult to know much about those who take their lives in suicide attacks but the testimony of youth like Mr. Guljaan, Mr. Qudoos, and Mr. Rafiqullah weave a tale of youth easily misled by fantastical visions, doctored videos and promises of passports to heaven.

Popularity: 5% [?]