Swift justice of Taliban.

By

Dr Ghayur Ayub

It was during a visit to Peshawar that I met a senior police officer. He narrated a story which was brow-raising. He told of a person from Bannu who lent Rs 40,000/ to a man he knew, who promised that he would return it within a specified time. He told the borrower that he had saved up the said amount to help pay for his children's education. When the agreed time lapsed, he asked him to return the amount. The borrower started making excuses and after a few months he flatly refused and challenged the lender to do what ever he could. There is a Pukhtu word for it "˜Laas Da Azaad De'

The man went from pillar to post to seek justice but with no result. The police proved incapable as the borrower was a powerful man with strong connections. When he tried to knock on the door of the court for justice he was dismayed to hear that it would take months for the case to come to a hearing and years to reach a final judgment. After all that, the chances were that the verdict would go against him as he was up against powerful people. To top it off, he was told he had to pay Rs 1000/ upfront every time he wanted to put his case forward for a hearing. This amount did not include the amount he was going to pay the lawyers. When he calculated it, the approximate amount turned out to be more than the actual amount he was going to seek justice for.

At the end of every day, he would go back home heart broken; cursing his luck to be living in a country where there was no justice for the middle or poor classes. He tried to persuade the borrower by pleading with him, explaining how desperately he needed the money for his children's education. He even offered a discount or to split the amount into instalments, but all in vain. It was like hitting a brick wall. He felt dejected, helpless and powerless to see his children suffering just because he came from a strata of a society pushed against the wall.  

One evening, he heard a knock on the door. He opened it and saw two strangers with bushy beards standing outside. Thinking they were there to collect "˜Chanda', he asked with irritation what they wanted. They told him that they saw him crying in the mosque and on enquiry they were told that someone was refusing to pay his money back. With a surprised look on his face, he asked them who they were.

"We are local Taliban" Then they asked if he would let them have his side of story. He saw a ray of hope and ushered them in. After listening to his story, the Taliban told him that the borrower had committed an un-Islamic act, and if he wanted they could persuade him to return the said money. "We want your permission". His heart jumped with flickering optimism and immense joy and without any hesitation, he gave them his consent. Before they left the premises they asked for 72 hours.

According to the police officer, the Taliban went to the influential man and told him it was un-Islamic not to pay the amount he had borrowed from the man. They threatened that if he did not pay the debt back within 48 hours; he would bear the consequences. They also told him how Taliban had previously dealt with people like him. Shivers went through the spine of the "˜powerful' man as he knew what their threat meant. With a dry mouth, frightened face and shaking body he nodded his head in agreement, promising he would pay back the amount. The next day, he went to the house of the lender and paid back the full amount he had refused up until then. He apologised for the delay and requested him to tell the Taliban not to harm him or his family and to let them know that he had returned the money. The Taliban never went back to ask whether he got the money back, but they must had been watching the development. From that day on, according to the police officer, that man became a strong supporter of Taliban. Could anyone blame him?

Another related story about quick and effective justice comes from the Bugti tribe of Baluchistan. According to electronic media, a man named Nazim Ali was refused his share in a dispute. According to him, he spent a lot of money to get justice from the court but failed because of corrupt practices. So he went to the tribal chief who referred him to the Jirga. The Jirga decided that he should walk on fire and if he was telling the truth he would not be burnt. Nazim Ali agreed to it and in front of onlookers he walked on red hot coal. After the walk, people saw that his soles were not burnt. The chief decided in his favour and he was given his due share.

There are countless other stories of parallel justice systems running in Pakistan in the present day. These systems seem to be nippy and effective satisfying their poor clients. Some are Taliban style, others tribal style sharing one commonality; they are swift and not stained with corruption. The question is; do we see fair and quick justice provided to the poor clients in our judicial systems? I am not a legal expert but from what I read in the print media and saw on the electronic media, the case of Farah Dogar is a glaring example of lopsided justice. What I am trying to say is that a nation can only survive if its judicial system lives independently and carry justice with honesty. Both these qualities seem to be missing in our present justice system. It is not only sad but painful too. In my discussions with different walks of people living in the troubled parts of FATA and NWFP (Pakhtunkhwa) the vast majority agreed that the justice provided by Taliban is fair and quick. They might not agree with other activities related to Talibanisation such as the burning of schools, gender discrimination etc; but they do appreciate the provision of justice served at the doorsteps with efficiency, courage and honesty especially to the poor people of Pakistan. It is this performance which attracts people to Taliban.

The end