On June 19, Labour Party Pakistan (LPP) general secretary Farooq Tariq was released from jail after being detained for 15 days by the Punjab government. His arrest was part of a crackdown on political activists following an escalation in Pakistan's pro-democracy movement after President Pervez Musharraf's decision to suspend Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry on March 9. Tariq, who is demanding a judicial inquiry into the detentions, will be a guest speaker at the Latin America and Asia Pacific International Solidarity Forum in Melbourne on October 11-14. The following is abridged from a statement issued by Tariq after his release.
It was one of the worst jail experiences I had during my 30 years of activism. My release was not due to the mercy of the government, but our massive local and international solidarity campaign. Hundreds of protest letters were sent to General Musharraf and dozens of faxes and messages of protest were sent to different provincial authorities.
Most importantly, on June 20 the Lahore High Court was to hear a petition. One of the most prominent advocates [lawyers] and the former president of the Supreme Court Bar Association of Pakistan Abid Hassan Minto was to argue my case against the detention. He is also the head of the National Workers Party and the convener of Awami Jamhoori Tehreek (the People's Democratic Movement, a left alliance of seven political parties including the LPP).
Police came to my house on June 4 at 4am to pick me up. While at the police station in Harbancepura, I repeatedly asked if they had a detention order but was not given a reply. The local police officer kept telling me that I would be free that evening or at the most in three days. That lie was told to more than 600 political prisoners who were rounded up from their houses.
After the Lahore session judge issued notices to the police for my detention, their behaviour towards me changed. After being driven for nearly two hours in a moving police van, I was finally taken to the Bagbanpura police station where I spent the night.
The next day, the police told the Session Judge that Farooq Tariq had not been not arrested and was not with them. I was like a kidnapped person — not by private gangs, but state gangsters. I was taken to the storeroom of a plastic factory belonging to an elected counsellor of the ruling party, the Muslim League, where I was kept for 24 hours under the surveillance of two armed police in plain clothes.
I protested again and again for being held in a private place instead of a police station, but the two armed men told me they were obeying orders by higher authorities. They said senior police officers were very angry because of the court petition.
After being brought back to the police station I was put behind bars with more than 13 others charged for different criminal activities. On June 6, police obtained a three-month detention order from the home department of Punjab and so had to tell the session judge that I had already been sent to Bahawalpur Jail.
Bahawalpur is nearly 450 kilometres from Lahore and is infamous for its cruelties and strictness. Most of the prominent political prisoners have been kept in this jail over the years. It was more than 47°C in the police van and the driver was speeding. It was one of the worst journeys I have experienced.
I was sent to Block A, where there were four more political prisoners from the Muslim League (N) who had been there for three weeks. MLN activist Noshad Hameed immediately shouted "Labour Party has arrived". We had shared the same jail barrack at Lahore Kot Lakhpat jail in 2001.
The two of us from Lahore were put in separate cells. I asked the jail authorities to allow us to share one cell, but a jail warden replied: "Two are not allowed to share one cell; they might be involved in homosexual activities."
Bahawalpur is one of the hottest areas of Pakistan. We had to experience that for the next seven days. I had a small room, a small veranda and something you could call a bathroom. One woollen blanket was thrown inside the cell to put on the floor to sleep.
We were not allowed to bring any paper or pens. I had three pairs of my shalwar qameez, the traditional dress in Pakistan for summer. No towel or toothpaste and brush. I was like a lion in a cage moving from one corner to another all the time, then sitting in one place, eating what the jail has to offer (something like food). It reminded me of Lahore zoo, where I normally go with my six-year-old son Abdullah to see the lions.
The next evening, 22 more political prisoners arrived from Lahore to share the four cells in Block A. I was very pleased to see more people. Seven of them, all from the Pakistan People's Party (PPP) were pushed into my cell. This ended my solitary confinement, much to my pleasure. At least there was someone to talk to.
We were sent to Bahawalpur from Lahore as punishment, to isolate us from our friends, families and community. This was to teach us a lesson for our opposition to the military dictatorship and to attempt to break our will to keep fighting.
The Musharraf regime was acting like its British colonial masters, who used to send political prisoners to the Andaman Islands while they ruled the Indian sub-continent for over 200 years. The island was known as Kala Paani (black waters). Many freedom fighters who were sent there never came back to their homes — most died while serving life-long prison terms.
The heat wave went up to 52°C. The electricity always went off, sometimes for 14 hours a day, which also meant the water would be off. The floor of the cell was always hot. It was only after three days of protest that our defective fan was replaced with a better one and one more fan was installed in the veranda. We paid from our pockets for the fan. The PPP leaders had some money deposited with the jail authorities when they arrived.
We had to go on hunger strike after four days to demand water. One morning there was absolutely no water coming in. Earlier, there was very little water but we could fill a little plastic bottle in half an hour. The hunger strike paid off. The jail management had to change the pipes and replace the age-old motor.
On the sixth day, my two elder brothers Ahmad Yaseen and Ahmed Saeed were able to visit me at Bahawalpur jail after gaining permission from the home department in Lahore. They brought fruit, soft drinks and some clothes, toothpaste and a toothbrush etc. They also deposited some money in my jail account so I could order some basics from the jail shop. This was my first contact with the outside world and they told me that they had heard from the home department that I was going to be shifted to Kot Lakhpat Jail in Lahore the following day.
LPP comrades from Lodhran, a city 20 kilometres from Bahawalpur, had tried their best to contact me and they were able to send some fruit and sweets to my cell the next morning.
The next evening the police waiting at the jail gate to take me to Lahore tried to handcuff me. I refused and it took them one hour because of my resistance. I told them I am not a criminal and was not going to be treated like a criminal.
After a whole night's travel, we arrived at the Kot Lakhpat Jail in Lahore and I was put in a very small cell with eight other political prisoners. At least we could stroll on the lawn outside.
A 52-year-old political activist from the PPP, Sarmad Mansoor, had died a day earlier in the same jail after being denied proper medical treatment. It was murder by the government of Punjab with the help of the jail authorities. Mansoor was arrested in a hospital in Gujarat district and was admitted to a jail dispensary with no adequate medical facilities. He died of a heart attack on June 14 and when I arrived the next morning, all 32 political prisoners from different political parties were on hunger strike, so I joined in as well.
Mansoor's death became a national issue and after that, the government's attitude changed and it started releasing the political prisoners. I was the last to be released on June 19.
While I was coming towards the jail gate, I met an Indian political prisoner, Iqbal, whom I had met in 2001 in the same jail. On his request, I was able to send a Human Rights Commission Pakistan delegation to the jail, which helped release several Indian prisoners.
Outside the jail, dozens of LPP and other activists were waiting to welcome me, after hearing just a few hours earlier that I would be released. "Go Musharaf, go!" was the chant that might even have been heard by people inside the jail. I was brought to the LPP office in a procession and at 5pm I addressed a press conference. Straight from jail back into the thick of political activity!