Monday, October 9, 2017

On death row in Pakistan

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FOR the thousands of prisoners on Pakistan's death row, Oct 10 will pass just like any other day. 

They will just strike off one more day of their nearly 12-year average jail sentence. It does not fall on a Thursday this year, so they will not have any family come visit them. Ostensibly, there is nothing special about this date to them.

But beyond their literal prison, Oct 10 is World Day Against the Death Penalty - an annual accounting of this punishment that is as irreversible as it is inhumane. Activists around the world reflect on how many lives have been ended by the state and for what, and how to continue the global trend towards abolition.

I would like to think, knowing this day exists, that someone cares about what happens to them; it would be heartening for those who remain in jails, waiting to die.

But until December 2014, they had no reason to expect the arrival of their warrants. Pakistan had a de facto moratorium in place for nearly 6 years. Today, we have executed 480 prisoners in less than 3 years.

We are used to counting bodies in Pakistan. Sometimes in the tens, other times in the hundreds; 480 is a significant death toll, if not a wholly unnecessary one. The numbers are terrifying. The figure has included juvenile offenders, the mentally ill. There are still more who have been executed only to have their corpses acquitted a year later. Many have died waiting to die.

So in 2 days, as we take stock of the way the death penalty is implemented in Pakistan, let's go back to the reasons why it was resumed in the first place. No amount of time or commiseration can mitigate the horror of the attack on the students and staff of the Army Public School, Peshawar. I will always stand with the families of the victims of terrorist attacks, and it is my sincere hope that their memories are honoured appropriately, with dignity.

But this cannot be the case if Pakistan continues to wrongfully execute innocent individuals, the impoverished, juveniles and persons with mental and physical disabilities in their name. In line with this year's theme, the criminal justice system is rigged against those who need it the most.

More worrying still, is the narrative connecting terrorism to resuming executions in Pakistan. It is true that Pakistan has experienced a decrease in terrorism in the past few years, but is it because we have been executing terrorists? The data reveals that less than 17 % of all executions have been for those convicted of terrorism-related charges. In fact, the majority of death sentences have been issued by district and sessions courts that have no jurisdiction over terrorism.

And looking at the courts that do, ie the anti-terrorism courts, this nexus becomes even more doubtful. The Anti-Terrorism Act, 1997, bears a definition of terrorism so broad as to include any action or threat that may create a "sense of fear or insecurity in society". ATCs have convicted 'terrorists' for stealing cattle and even once, for flying a kite.

It is no wonder then, that research by Justice Project Pakistan has found that 88 % of all those convicted and 86.3 % of all those sentenced to death under the ATA were for crimes bearing no connections to terrorism.

The ATA makes the death sentences it breeds even more difficult to stomach with its required expedited trials, suspension of fundamental safeguards, admissibility of confessions in police custody and restrictions on bail. Under it, juvenile offenders are sentenced to death (like Iqbal was in Mandi Bahauddin) and have been executed (like Aftab Bahadur was in 2015). Under it, the victim's family's wishes are disregarded. If they do not want the defendant to hang, it does not matter because ATA convictions are non-compoundable.

Until this law is reformed, death sentences and executions will always be near impossible to justify. This was meant to happen in the 2 years before military courts expired. Nothing happened, showing an inherent reluctance to actually resolve the problem at hand and an apathy to the human rights abuses it enables.

Pakistan must introspect. Who are the people in jail? What are the circumstances that put them on death row? Would they be in danger of being hanged if they had the means to adequately defend themselves? Is terrorism being curbed because a mentally ill man was hanged? Does Pakistan want to go against the global tide that wants to abolish the practice?

This reflection won't just take the one day. But World Day Against the Death Penalty (Tuesday), would be a good time to start.

Source: dawn.com, Sarah Belal, October 8, 2017. Sarah Belal is the executive director of Justice Project Pakistan.



'In Pakistan, death penalty is for the poor'


Mental illness
Schizophrenic and on death row: the tragic case of ex-cop Khizar Hayat

When my son Khizar was born, I held his small head in my hand and fell in love. Like all mothers, I dreamed that Khizar would grow up strong, live a good life with a wife and children, and be surrounded by love.

He did grow up, he did get married, and had children. But he is not surrounded by love. Love is hard to come by in prisons.

I never imagined that I would be visiting my only son in a jail, where I can barely recognise him.

In truth, during most of my visits to him in Kot Lakhpat Jail (Central Jail Lahore), Khizar struggles to recognise me. Schizophrenia does that to a person. Even his own mother has become a stranger to him; on bad days, he thinks I’m an enemy.

Khizar did well in school. He decided to stay in our village to become a police officer. He grew into a good-natured person who enjoyed being well-dressed, and going to early-morning prayers with me. He loved and respected Allah.

But every now and then, Khizar would withdraw into himself. Sometimes, I would find him speaking to someone in the room. There would be no one there.

Khizar met a pir who used his age and spiritual influence to take advantage of my son’s generosity. Over time, this man filled Khizar’s head with distrust and suspicsion. He encouraged Khizar to distance himself from me, his wife, and his children.

The pir told Khizar that his uncles and others wanted to kill him. He convinced my son to sell our property and steal our belongings. Khizar gave everything to the pir and his family. My son left home and began living with the pir.

He stopped going to prayers, became angry and paranoid, and his physical appearance deteriorated. When he would come to visit us, he would shut himself in a room and burn his hands. I was afraid for him and wanted him to go to the hospital. I knew that Khizar was sick, and that this man, the pir, was making it worse.

Khizar was arrested and sentenced to death in 2003, accused of murdering one of his closest friends and a fellow police officer. I sold my jewelry to pay for a lawyer, certain that my son didn’t kill anyone.

At the trial, there was no clear evidence against Khizar, but his lawyer didn’t submit any evidence in support of him or call a single witness to defend him. Khizar was sentenced to death based upon suspicion and lack of defense.

When his case was appealed, I again borrowed money for a government lawyer to speak to the judge, but when we were called into the judge’s chamber, my lawyer didn’t speak. He did not ask a single question. He took my money and did nothing.

In Pakistan, the death penalty is for the poor. Those who can afford to buy good lawyers don’t get sentenced to death. Is that justice?

Khizar has been diagnosed by doctors with paranoid schizophrenia and placed in a section of the jail for mentally ill prisoners. It has been 14 years. He will never get better. He will never know his children, who have grown into adults. He will never again go to prayers with me.

I borrow what money I can to visit Khizar in jail, where he sits in solitary confinement. The visits are very hard for me. He no longer knows who I am. He doesn’t know where he is.

Sometimes, he has ripped his clothes and sits naked in his cell, repeating paranoid thoughts to himself out loud. I sit near him, trying to come to terms with what has become of my son – that beautiful baby with almond-shaped eyes and long lashes, who had a whole lifetime ahead of him.

I challenge anyone to watch as their son stops being able to recognise his own mother or his children – Khizar no longer knows where he is or how to talk to other people. Even with treatment, schizophrenia doesn’t go away – it just becomes manageable. There is no cure.

Whether you think that Khizar is innocent or guilty, he is still a human being, a son, a father, and he has a severe illness. I’m getting older and I am Khizar’s only family. My visits are the only care he gets.

I understand that he will never walk around a free, happy man, but I urge the Government of Pakistan to please take my son off of death row and beseech that he be moved to a medical facility that is properly trained to treat schizophrenic patients.

As narrated to Asim Rafiqui and Michael Braithewaite, who put it in form of an article. 

Source: dawn.com, Iqbal Bano, October 9, 2017. This article is second of a three-part series, curated in collaboration with Justice Project Pakistan, in lead up to The World Day Against the Death Penalty on October 10th. Read the first part here.


Reinstate the moratorium


Gallows
The World Day against the Death Penalty will be observed tomorrow. The day is marked to urge states to abolish capital punishment since it has no place in a modern society. This is primarily because the objective of punishment is to rehabilitate and reintegrate criminals into society and not exact revenge.

More than 2/3 of the world has abolished the death penalty in law or practice. At least 104 countries have abolished it for all crimes, seven countries have abolished the death penalty for ordinary crimes and 30 countries haven't executed anyone in last 10 years and have abolished executions in practice. There are only 57 countries who still uphold the death penalty as a form of punishment.

A report of the World Coalition Against Death Penalty claims that Pakistan was among the top 5 in the list of 23 countries where executions were carried out in 2016. The report also claims that Pakistan awarded the death penalty to the juvenile offenders by violating the principles of the ICCPR and the CRC.

Our criminal justice system is full of such miscarriages of justice where people have been denied the opportunity of a fair trial. And yet, courts in Pakistan can award the death penalty for 27 different crimes, including blasphemy, sexual intercourse out of wedlock and narcotics smuggling. We can't forget when Mazhar Hussain was acquitted by the Supreme Court of Pakistan 2 years after his death in the prison. The same court acquitted Ghulam Sarwar and his brother Ghulam Qadir, who were shockingly executed before their appeals could be heard and decided by the Supreme Court. We are still not prepared to accept this bitter reality and find answers to the countless questions that this problem presents.

In addition to the failure of the administration of justice through ordinary courts, Pakistan also has a history of introducing military courts for the trial of civilian suspects of terrorism. These mechanisms have been viewed with suspicion by human rights activists because they are considered to be deficient in fulfilling the components involved in an individual's right to a fair trial.

Since January 7, 2015, military courts have convicted nearly 309 people - including 169 death convictions - while at least 48 others have been executed. All the cases that were reviewed were eventually dismissed by the high courts and the Supreme Court. Only the conviction of Muhammad Imran was set-aside by the Peshawar High Court.

Astonishingly, 93 % of the convictions are based on confessions where the accused were defended by 'military officers' and the families had limited access in these matters.

There are around 3 million cases pending in our courts. In some cases, it takes decades to prove that a person is not guilty. A system with a weak administration of justice, false FIRs, incomplete and outdated investigation, corrupt practices, the unavailability of modern forensics for the investigation process, false testimonies, weak prosecution, limited access to lawyers due to financial or other reasons and overburdened courts where only the rich can afford justice takes between 15 and 20 years to decide a criminal case. It can't guarantee the accused the right to a fair trial.

How can the state legitimise the death penalty when it has failed to guarantee these important components of an individual's right to a fair trial? The state shouldn't execute people on the basis of a deficient and fragile criminal justice system. In order to guarantee the right to a fair trial and make the administration of justice efficient, it is essential that Pakistan work on its police, prosecution, parole, prisons and judicial systems.

When capital punishment is non-reversible, has no special deterrent effect and is based on a system where there is a high probability of a miscarriage of justice, executions can never serve as good options. Therefore, Pakistan should reinstate moratorium on death penalty and should ratify the Second Protocol to the ICCPR. It should also work to improve its criminal justice system by protecting witnesses, lawyers and judges. It should introduce timely reforms in the criminal justice system because after January 7, 2019, problems within this system might be used once again a rational ground to further extend the operation of military courts.

Source: thenews.com.pk, Irshad Ahmad, October 9, 2017. The writer is a Peshawar-based lawyer.


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"One is absolutely sickened, not by the crimes that the wicked have committed,
but by the punishments that the good have inflicted." -- Oscar Wilde
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