KARACHI LETTER:Violence has returned to Karachi's streets at levels not seen since the 1980s and 1990s, writes MARY FITZGERALD
THE MAN In the crumpled ill- fitting suit grew up in a small town in rural Pakistan but had lived in Karachi for years. He told a potted version of his life story as the plane slowly began its descent over this sprawling city lapped by the Arabian sea. His modest family background had hampered his prospects, he explained, until he moved to Karachi. There he had built up a successful business.
“This city is so big, it gives everyone a chance to escape their past,” he said. “Karachi is like the New York of Pakistan.”
Big, brash and more liberal than the rest of the country, Karachi is also the vital economic engine that generates more than 50 per cent of its tax revenues.
A metropolis of 18 million, it is home to Pakistan’s main port and scores of industries ranging from steel and petrochemicals to IT, advertising and fashion.
Millions have flocked to its choked neighbourhoods in search of opportunity. But the myriad of nationalities and ethnicities that ensure Karachi’s cosmopolitan air has also given rise to the tensions that have haunted it for decades. Ethnic-based political factions have long vied to control the city, often to deadly effect.
In recent years, Karachiites had dared to hope that they had put the worst behind them, as memories of the targeted killings that scarred the city in the 1980s and 1990s began to fade. This year though, violence has returned to Karachi’s streets at levels not seen since that time.
According to one tally, more than 1,350 people have died in targeted killings here over the past 12 months – more than the number of deaths caused by terrorist attacks across Pakistan.
The reasons are many and complex. “Ethnicity, sectarianism, perceived insecurity due to demographic changes, gang war between mafias and clash of interests among workers of political parties have been the real cause of violence in Karachi,” concluded a recent parliamentary committee report.
The city has long drawn drug barons, crime lords and arms smugglers.
The anonymity offered by its size and location on the coast makes Karachi an ideal place for anyone who may need to keep a low profile.
Several leading al-Qaeda and Taliban figures have been apprehended here. Drug and land mafias plague the city and protection rackets are rife.
The biggest factor though in Karachi’s combustible mix is the long-standing rivalry between two political groups, the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM), which represents Mohajirs – Urdu- speakers who left India after the 1947 partition – and the Awami National Party (ANP), supported by ethnic Pashtuns.
Mohajirs form the majority in Karachi. However more recently the city’s demographic map has shifted with the arrival of hundreds of thousands of Pashtuns who fled their homes in Pakistan’s troubled northwest, where the army has been battling home-grown militants. The ANP claims there are now four million Pashtuns in Karachi.
The MQM and the ANP accuse each other of orchestrating this year’s violence, but many Karachiites say they are both to blame in what has become an ever more vicious battle for the city.
“Unfortunately, the lessons these people have taken from the last three decades is that political power comes from the barrel of a gun and violence and thuggery will get you anything you want,” shrugged one resident.
In August, the killing of an MQM parliamentarian gunned down while attending a funeral sparked a week-long rampage that left more than 100 people dead.
During a subsequent byelection to fill the seat left vacant by his death, more than 30 people were killed.
The violence shows little sign of abating. “Peace in Karachi feels impossible at the moment,” said Najib Khan, whose teenage brother was shot dead last week by gunmen on motorbikes as he sat in a car with another brother, who is an ANP activist.
“There is the smell of blood everywhere in the city.”
Asked if he wanted revenge for his brother’s murder, Najib frowned and replied: “No. I just put my faith in my God. He will do as he will.”
MQM supporters blame the influx of Pashtuns for what they describe as the growing “Talibanisation” of a city long known for its liberal mores.
Karachi has witnessed several suicide bombings, the latest in October with the targeting of a popular Sufi shrine on the seafront, only a few kilometres from President Asif Ali Zardari’s residence.
In 2007, more than 130 people were killed when suicide bombers struck a rally held by Benazir Bhutto. There have also been a number of attacks on Western diplomatic missions and hotels.
Hostilities between Sunni and Shia Muslims that often erupt into tit-for-tat killings have added to Karachi’s volatile atmosphere.
Last December, at least 30 people died when a suicide bomber hit a procession marking Ashura, the climax of Muharram, a month when Shias mourn the death of the prophet Muhammad’s grandson Hussain.
This week many of the city’s roads are decked with black flags for Muharram. Ashura falls on Friday. Once again, a tense Karachi holds its breath.