A FEW muddy years, a clutch of complaints and some hither-thither investigation later, we are still in the process of finding out about the Kasur child abuse case. We are not too sure as yet since we have always known that this has been happening close to us. We are not ready to accept since we have been trained to overlook what is in our immediate vicinity and to try and reject what is staring us obscenely in our face.

Every child out there without appropriate protection is vulnerable. He or she is exposed to unhindered, often public, groping, by adult insinuation, and eventually, by touch: physical touch. We all know that. While on our way to respectable — slightly securer — positions in society, we have all been subjected to or, what is easier to accept, been witness to sexual abuse of some kind. Over a series of these incidents we have been taught about how to cloak these realities — quite often as inevitable, if dark and ugly experiences, during our growing up years. Kasur seeks to cruelly lift the assiduously woven cover over a reality that is tough to encounter. In fear of our discovery, we react and cling to our shield reflexively.

The resistance that we put up against the revealing of the truth is a tribute to our ability to stand by our convention. This is a sex scandal but it is one that has been blown out of proportion, goes the refrain. There are complaints about abuse but there are not as many complaints as some of those who have been reporting on it would have us believe, some insist. The media is in agreement that a grave crime appears to have taken place but again, conveniently, there are some in the media who have been compelled by their reasons for exploiting a popular situation towards meeting their ends.

The numbers are important but let them not be used to complicate the case.

These are some basic contradictions that we are all too keen to find in aid of our desire to wish Kasur away — just as we have been trying for far too long to not be too bothered by the sexual predators that prowl over invisible and visible spaces in our neighbourhoods. By every explanation, sexual abuse is either too common, or this case in Kasur is too blown out of proportion, to be receiving the attention some in the crowd have been shouting out for so shamelessly. It is either too common or taboo.

Other ills prevalent in society — ills that are comparatively more easily spoken about — are called upon to confuse the debate. The Kasur abuse case could be — it is, says the argument — the result of some property dispute. But for this fight over a plot of land, the gory tales about children’s exploitation would never have been known. And thus a cause subsequently dependent for discovery on man’s lust for land could hardly merit notice which is reserved for the most horrifying.

Indeed, of late there have been stories that seek to expose those thought to be mainly responsible for the ‘campaign’ on the ground in the Kasur village that has taken the most ignominious route to the national stage. There is one report which seeks to implicate one of the leaders of the revolt against abuse as a shady character who has himself been a suspect in a rape case in the past.

The question of authenticity apart, this counter-accusation thrown towards the complainants’ camp helps perpetuate the impression that is deemed to be so important to proving one point in the ongoing discussion: that these things do happen (routinely) and just as no one is above suspicion, no one is less vulnerable to the basic temptations.

The refrain says the individuals and institutions are a product of society. In Pakistan the justification has been applied less than sparingly by everyone and anyone to justify the oddest of behaviours by people and institutions in the most responsible positions. Once again they have all appeared to have found Kasur too heavy a topic for their brittle, easily pricked and hence eagerly guarded conscience. The police said the child abuse case was exaggerated. The politicians belonging to the ruling party followed up on that, claiming innocence in the wake of reports that said the abuse had been going on for many years. Most remarkably the chief minister of the province, the ever-present administrator with a history of rushing to trouble spots, kept his distance from the scene.

There has to be an investigation; questions are to be asked not least about the silence that has surrounded the scandalous activity, if the accounts that the abuse has been going on for some time — by some accounts since 2006 or 2007 — are to be believed.

There has to be an investigation beyond the mention of blackmail: what are the suspects being accused of squeezing out of their alleged victims through threats? Was it money? Was the coercion used to bully the victims into a repeat of the act, forming a ghastly cycle that could not be ended for fear of bringing shame to the victims and their families, which seems so unlikely for an activity on such a large scale spread over so long a period? Was it shame alone or were there other factors which combined to hush up the case for so long — for how long?

The numbers are important but let them not be used to complicate the case, rather than signifying the gravity of the situation. It is important how many cases there were where the victims were sexually abused and the act captured on camera. They say there have been 400 of these. Suppose the number is 100 or 40 or even less in this ugly Kasur story. Even this conscious exercise in dilution cannot help this society escape what it has been putting off for so long.

The writer is Dawn’s resident editor in Lahore.

Published in Dawn, August 14th, 2015

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