Sarabjit Singh’s death has raised a host of questions ranging from India’s policy towards Pakistan, the sufferings of Indian prisoners in Pakistani jails, and Delhi’s ability or the lack of it to protect the rights of its citizens in other countries
The extremely unfortunate saga of Sarabjit Singh, an Indian citizen who fell victim to the bloody-mindedness of Pakistani officialdom, has come to an end. The Pakistani authorities ‘executed’ him by pulling the plug on the life support systems that were keeping a lifeless Sarabjit alive after he had been bludgeoned into an irreversible coma by fellow inmates in the Kot lakhpat jail, lahore’s answer to the infamous ‘Abu Ghraib’ prison. But in its wake, Sarabjit’s case has raised a host of questions ranging from India’s policy towards Pakistan, the terrible sufferings of Indian prisoners in Pakistani jails, the ability or the lack of it of the Indian state to protect the rights and freedoms of its citizens in other countries in general and neighbouring countries in particular, and most of all, the systemic reforms that are needed within the country to enable the Indian state to promptly provide assistance to citizens who are caught in the lurch outside the country.
But for his intrepid sister whose indefatigable campaign to secure relief and release for Sarabjit made him into a household name in India and forced the Government to raise the issue with Pakistan, no one would have even known, much less cared, about his travails. like other disavowed people, he could well have ended up like some of his anonymous compatriots who die unmourned while serving their sentence in a dark cell of some hell-hole Pakistani prison or who return unsung after years, even decades, behind bars in Pakistan. But the problem for Sarabjit was that by the time his case became cause celebre, it was too late. He had run through the course of the criminal justice system of Pakistan and had been condemned to hang for crimes that, it later became known, he hadn’t committed.
Despite efforts of his lawyer who tried to get the Pakistani courts to re-examine Sarabjit’s case in light of new evidence and stop a miscarriage of justice, there was no relief forthcoming, either from Pakistan’s ‘independent’ judiciary or from the ‘democratic’ dispensation that came into power in 2008. The Indian Government’s entreaties also came a cropper. Senior officials in the Ministry of External Affairs claim that Sarabjit’s case was raised at every possible forum with the Pakistanis, but Islamabad either rebuffed the Indian request, or took refuge behind the judicial process or even pleaded helplessness in the matter on account of political compulsions (shorthand for fear of Right-wing, reactionary and jihadi backlash).
Having labelled Sarabjit a terrorist who carried out a series of bomb blasts in which more than a dozen Pakistanis lost their lives, no one in Pakistan was willing to relook the flimsy evidence and tainted testimonies of witnesses (many of whom were willing to retract their statements which they had made under duress and tutelage of Pakistani security agencies) on the basis of which he had been condemned. Often, the death sentence pronounced on Sarabjit would be defended by Pakistani media and analysts by quoting his confessional statement that had been telecast on state television. That such a confessional statement would not have been voluntary but forced was something that was always conveniently brushed under the carpet. It was almost as though the Pakistanis needed someone to hang for the bomb blasts, and Sarabjit became a convenient scapegoat despite his lawyer making a very convincing case that his was a case of mistaken identity. Even the Pakistani media, which never stops crowing about its new-found empowerment and independence, displayed extreme intolerance by not allowing Sarabjit’s lawyer, Owais Sheikh, the use of lahore Press Club premises to launch his book on the case.
For Sarabjit, who as a prisoner on death row for over two decades faced a fate worse than death in Pakistan’s ‘Abu Ghraibs’, the situation became much worse after the execution of the Mumbai monster, Ajmal Kasab, and the Parliament attack mastermind, Afzal Guru. A travesty it might have been, but Sarabjit’s case started being linked with Kasab and Guru, especially by the jihadi groups in Pakistan. Even as the jihadis started clamouring for paying India back by hanging Sarabjit, he started receiving threats inside the prison. These threats became real after another Indian prisoner, Chamel Singh, was beaten to death by prison officials on the eve of his release. The Indian Government insists it had apprised the Pakistani authorities to ensure Sarabjit’s safety. But as subsequent events make clear, these warning were ignored, whether deliberately (as seems to be the case) or inadvertently (as is being made out by the Pakistanis who admit a security lapse) is hardly important. The end result was that Sarabjit was brutally beaten and reduced into a vegetable, and then medically ‘executed’.
While the Indian Government has come under blistering criticism, both in the specific case of Sarabjit Singh as well as its less than glowing record in the case of other Indian citizens who find themselves in trouble in foreign lands, not all of this criticism is fair. Drawing comparisons between India and Western countries, especially the US, is quite pointless. The simple fact of the matter is that in terms of systems, resources, finances, manpower and, to an extent, attitude of officials, but most of all, influence and leverage, the Indian missions are just not equipped to respond in the same manner as Western embassies do. Take a simple thing like providing consular services to citizens. The first thing that needs to be done before consular services can be extended is to confirm whether or not the person is a citizen of India. This is something that can at times take weeks because the information regarding any person has to be verified from State governments which sit on requests from the Ministry of External Affairs. Only after it is confirmed that the person is indeed an Indian national that the next step can be taken.
While most countries inform the Indian mission if there is any detention, arrest or any other issue with someone who claims to be an Indian citizen, in the case of Pakistan, even this is not done. Often enough, it is only after Indian officials get to know either from media reports or from relatives of an Indian national who has been arrested in Pakistan, that they start the process of taking up the case. And then they have to put up with the stone-walling by Pakistani officials and denial of consular access to the detainee. Even if access is granted, the issue of verifying whether or not the person is indeed an Indian remains. Things have improved marginally in recent years with agreements on giving consular access but huge problems remain, not the least of which is the huge discrepancy in the list of detainees that Indian officials present and the list that the Pakistanis admit. There is also the institution of judicial commission that has been set up, but its functioning leaves a lot to be desired.
Once access is granted, there is the problem of engaging a lawyer — not an easy task if the person detained has been charged with a serious offence like terrorism or spying. In case the detainee cannot afford legal costs, the Government has to arrange for funds, which isn’t so difficult in the neighbourhood, but is prohibitively expensive in Western countries. In countries where the diplomatic mission is very small, there is a big problem of manpower needed to keep following individual cases.
In many Western countries, illegal immigrants who destroy their travel documents to prevent identification are more than happy to become disavowed citizens. For their part, the Indian officials also take a sympathetic view — the illegal immigrant has, after all, spent a fortune to reach his destination — and tend to play along. Yet, this game sometimes goes awry and the blame is heaped on the ‘insensitive and callous’ Indian bureaucracy. This is not to deny some amount of indifference, even callousness, among Indian officials. Distasteful though it may be, there is nothing extraordinary about this kind of an attitude. After all, people living in India undergo the indignity of dealing with officials almost daily.
In recent years, however, the official machinery has become a lot more responsive in cases involving Indian citizens than it was in the past. One reason for this is the growing awareness and outspokenness of the citizenry, which raises a huge stink in the event of any laxity, perceived or real, on the part of officials. But it is also because officials can no longer be sure of what political influence someone can bring to bear upon them. Of course, if the person is well-connected then, like in India, even overseas the entire government machinery works overtime to resolve the matter. But unlike India, where until the latest fracas over the Italian marines issue, the system was fairly flexible when it came to the ‘goras’, the Western legal system is more rigid and can come in the way of quick resolution of any legal or criminal matter involving an Indian citizen.
This is where the issue of the influence and leverage that any country exercises comes into play. While there have been many complaints that the Indian Government hasn’t done enough to save Sarabjit, the fact of the matter is that India was simply in no position to tell the Pakistanis ‘do this or else...’ since there is really nothing ‘else’, because if there was then the need for saying ‘or else’ wouldn’t arise. Over the years, India just hasn’t built the capabilities that would allow it to say ‘or else’. Even the capabilities India had have been systematically shrivelled either because someone thought they were immoral, or because someone else thought they were risky and counter-productive or even because someone thought they interfered and obstruction in his efforts to normalise relations with Pakistan. Given that the current Government cannot use the CBI against Pakistan, all India is left with is to appeal to Pakistan’s good sense to do the right thing, which as we all know is a bit of a mug’s game.
Indiadid have the option of using some tools of diplomatic signalling to demonstrate its seriousness in the matter of Sarabjit. But here again, the effectiveness of the instrument depends upon the credibility of the Government, which needless to say is pretty low. Remember, after the beheading of Indian soldiers on the loC last January, the Government declared that it would no longer be business as usual with Pakistan. To convey its seriousness, the new visa agreement with Pakistan was put on hold. But as expected, after a few weeks, it was back to business as usual with the visa agreement being silently operationalised. With this kind of signalling, how can anyone blame the Pakistanis, or for that matter the Chinese, to take anything this Government says seriouslyIJ
The sad fact is that if the rest of the world, and more worryingly India’s adversaries, take India to be a soft state which is unable to protect its citizens both within the country and without, secure its territories, defend its interests both economic and political, and project its power both soft and hard, then it is because India has been turned into a fluffy state. The Sarabjit saga is just the latest manifestation of this, and by all accounts, not the last of humiliations that will visit this country.
A final word is, however, in order of a class of citizens who when caught are disavowed, and after they return from the cold, are ignored: Spies. The disavowal of actions of a spy who has been caught is entirely understandable. But denying him legal and other assistance is not defensible in any manner whatsoever. Even more deplorable is the manner in which authorities wash their hands of the man once he returns after decades in prison and having endured unspeakable torture. These people must be compensated handsomely and their families must be taken care of by the Indian state during their incarceration. This much the country owes to these people. A nation that doesn’t take care of soldiers who fight its shadow wars cannot take care of anything.