Pakistan, today, is caught between the cusp of confused identities. As a nation, each one of us is still choosing between our disparate identities as 1) a Shariah abiding Muslim, 2) a culturally adherent human being, and, 3) perhaps the least, a law abiding Pakistani. Caught between these clashing identities, our nation has become forgiving of religious militancy, cultural barbarianism, and an impotent law.
This internal divide, tearing inside each Pakistani, becomes most evident when confronted with horrific acts, such as the stoning to death of a pregnant 25 year old Farzana Iqbal, by her own family members, in the presence of police officials, and a stones throw away from the seat of ‘justice’.
As it turns out, young Farzana had fallen into the trap of that oldest crime – love, which offends all the three identities of a present day Pakistani. But her crime was not simply to have fallen in love. She had committed a much graver, a much more offensive act. She, in perceived violation of the religious, cultural and legal sensitivities of our country, had committed the cardinal sin of freedom. She had, freely, chosen to act upon her crime of love, by openly professing it, and ‘choosing’ to marry the man she loved, against the wishes of her family, and the surrounding society. The audacity of her freedom, compelled by love, had taken her a step further: she had decided to testify – in a manner that is only one shade different from Hallaj – before our courts of justice and equity, that she did in fact love another, and against the wishes of her family, had chosen to marry the person she loved. Al-Haq, Al Haq… Ana-Al-Haq!
Farzana’s fate, like countless others who have professed love in this society – that only understands the language of prejudice and hatred – was to pay for this love, albeit reluctantly, with her last full measure of devotion. The State of Pakistan, and her people – executioners all – watched (and even smiled?) as one more human soul was extinguished for the crime of love and freedom.
In the aftermath, as is customary in Pakistan, ‘notice’ has been taken by everybody: the Prime Minister, the Chief Minister, the Chief Justice and Inspector General Punjab Police. In the days to come, certain arrests would be made, maybe a few police constables will be suspended, and if we are lucky the relevant DSP will be transferred. Soon, however, with the next tsunami jalsa, or hike in the electricity prices, or some Rumi reference from the Supreme Court, the news cycle will forget Farzana. Over time, the porous net of our feeble system of justice, will free Farzana’s killers. Some honorable judge, aided by a well-bribed investigation officer, will put a legal, constitutional, and Shariah stamp on the payment of blood money, or an unholy compromise between the parties, and we will all continue to sing praises to the honorable thrones of power and justice.
Farzana, by then, long returned to the arms of the Creator, the only true source of love, will be forgotten as simply another statistic in some annual human rights report. And love, along with the freedom to profess it, would continue to be a crime in this society, where neither the law, nor the people, nor a tainted interpretation of Divine decree, allows or protects this primordial gift of humanity. Al-Haq, Al Haq… Ana-Al-Haq!
There is no point talking about the legal provisions that were violated in the killing of Farzana. It is futile to point out the complicity of our law enforcement, who stood by and watched, in the murder of Farzana. It is useless to preach how and what our judicial system must do to bring the perpetrators of this murder within the folds of our law, and how best to make an example out of this episode so as to protect the Farzanas of the future. There is no reason to raise an ‘appeal’ to the executive heads of our democracy, in the hope that concerted measures would be taken not only to avenge the murder of Farzana, but also to ensure that the blood of our daughters will never again taint the fabric and conscience of our nation.
The truth is that love, or the acceptance of it, has no place in our society of bigotry and violence. The screams of our daughters, have no place in our culture of honor. The pain of their suffering, has no compassion in the empire of our justice. And the redemption of their soul, finds no savior in the doctrine of our mullahs.

Ajj akhan Waris Shah nu ki tun kabran vichchon bol,
Te aj kitab-e-ishq da koi agla varka phol.
Ik roi si dhee Punjab di, tun likh likh maare vain,
Aj lakhan dheean rondian tainu
Waris Shah nu kahen.

Waris Shah does not live amongst us anymore. But that does not mean that the daughters of Heer do not cry in this land, still today. Their plight, drowned amidst the suo moto actions and the knee jerk reactions of the Prime Minister, no longer finds voice in the verses of poetry. Their struggle, age old and continuing, is met with a barrage of insolence and hypocrisy by a society that has embraced honor killing, impunity, and fanaticism as the new religion of our time.
If there is anyone out there, any disciple of Hallaj, any inheritor of Waris Shah, the Farzanas’ of this land are calling out. It is time to heed their cries.

The writer is a lawyer based in Lahore. He has a Masters in Constitutional Law from Harvard Law School.

Email:saad@post.harvard.edu

Tweets at:@Ch_SaadRasool