Last week, the media was all agog with reports on Sarabjit Singh, dubbed “an Indian spy” and “terrorist” by Pakistan. All news channels and national dailies were awash with news of a fatal attack on him by his fellow inmates in a Lahore jail. The print media, particularly, overflowed with emotion and patriotic write-ups. There was national outrage at the “gruesome murder” of Sarabjit, the details of which were recorded in minute detail. Indeed, the sense of proportion can go awry when it comes to reporting on Pakistan.
On Sarabjit’s death, the media highlighted the plight of prisoners “caught on the wrong side of the border” shared by India and Pakistan. The ‘Hindustan Times’ said many Indian and Pakistani prisoners languishing in each other’s jails were the “collateral damage of the great subcontinental rivalry”. “India and Pakistan should consider setting up a joint tribunal, staffed by professional judges from both sides, whose job would be to quickly decide on the fate of these unfortunates,” it said.
Echoing similar outrage, the ‘Mint’ described Sarabjit’s death as an “execution” by Pakistan. “His fate is in striking contrast to how India has treated Pakistani prisoners -- terrorists and murderers alike -- detained by it,” the newspaper said. The ‘Times of India’ said Sarabjit’s death is “the latest in a series of blows to India-Pakistan ties”. An exception, however, was the front page of ‘The Telegraph’ which relegated the subject of Sarabjit Singh from the upper half to the bottom half of the page. Going against the patriotic wave, the secondary headline went on to write “spies” come in from the cold and spoke of rumours that “former spies” were present at Sarabjit’s cremation at his hometown in Punjab. The purported yarns of alleged “spies” filled up most of the space around a photo of the the last rites of Sarabjit.
Though it carried a denial by Sarabjit’s family, the story implied the possibility of Sarabjit being a spy, thereby justifying Pakistan’s inaction. It apparently belittled India’s “ham-handed efforts and recruiting, training and deployment of spies let loose on Pakistan and then leaving them in the lurch once their assignments were over”. It went on to air the view that these people were misled by the Indian authorities, and had to fend for themselves - by driving rickshaws or not being gainfully employed at times - even after doing their bit for the nation.
However, ‘The Statesman’, carried a photo by AFP of the cremation of Sarabjit with a diagram of the vital organs of a human being with an adjoining report of removal of some of his organs during his autopsy in Pakistan. It also carried the comments of the doctors who undertook the second autopsy. This report was in tune with the national sentiments and suspicions of foul play and attempts at cover-up of evidence in the aftermath of the assault on and subsequent death of Sarabjit Singh.
The banner headline was that of a reported assault on a Pakistani prisoner at a Jammu jail, possibly as a reaction to Sarabjit’s situation in a Pakistani jail. The newspaper also carried an interview of one Md Elahi Samshi from Kolkata who was accused of spying after he crossed the border and was given a life-term in 1960, before being finally released in 1996. It was during his stay in different Pakistani jails that he met Sarabjit. This was a good human interest story, factually handled without casting any aspersions on the subject or the Indian state.
The analysis of Rajinder Puri was the eye-opener. In his article entitled ‘Shining India…’, he observes: “There is national outrage. The details of this tragic event too fresh in mind to bear repetition. New Delhi’s impotence and Islamabad’s callous contempt have inflamed public opinion.”
The media demanded strong action, the use of an iron hand, and so on. But not one politician or media channel spelt out in clear terms what needed to be done to deal with Pakistan. The media even reminded its audience of the beheading of two Indian soldiers on the Indian side of the border by Pakistan recently.
Amidst all this, the only bold, sane and logical statement could be about the Pakistani authorities – being frustated with the Sarabjit case, they could neither execute his death sentence due to international pressure nor release him for fear of incurring the wrath of the fundamental Muslim population. So they decided to do away with Sarabjit altogether by smuggling into the jail the tools for killing and allowing other death row prisoners to do the needful. Such a statement was sadly not activated by any Indian politician, nor expressed strongly by the media, at least openly. Public memory being proverbially short, perhaps the public will even have to be reminded of Sarabjit’s killing a few months hence.
Let us take a look at the role of the media in the build-up of Sarabjit’s case spanning the last two decades. The media readily reported his trial, etc., but did not turn the spotlight on the weakness of the Indian authorities as governments of all political hues have come and gone in the last two decades. The media was muted in its response. There were very few interviews of experts who could provoke the powers-that-be to initiate effective steps to appoint lawyers to defend Sarabjit, or call upon the Vienna Convention or Geneva Convention or Red Cross or United Nations agencies to undertake inspection and visitation of Indian prisoners held in Pakistan.
The media displayed as much lack of imagination as the lackadaisical Indian governments -- be it the NDA or the UPA. Our media sometimes does act in an ad hoc and tokenist manner, just like our authorities, who merely respond in timid tones and have the memory ascribed in the adage quoted above. It would be interesting to write a piece on how Pakistani media reported the Pakistani prisoner’s death in Indian jail and then contrast and compare the two. These are two human stories ending in tragedy.
The media does not follow up these events, nor give intermittent reminders. There is neither prologue nor epilogue sometimes when it comes to issues like Sarabjit's death. I hope it changes.
