Pakistanis Seek Blame for Bombing

Tyler Hicks/The New York Times

Cleanup and search efforts continued Monday at the Meena market in Peshawar, Pakistan, the scene of a blast on Oct. 28.

By SABRINA TAVERNISE

Published: November 3, 2009

Even for Peshawar, a city that has long been pummeled by violent attacks, the bombing in the Meena market
last week felt different. The violence was aimed not at soldiers or the police, but at society’s most vulnerable members — poor women and children, who made up about half of the bombing’s 114 victims.
In two days of interviews, Pakistanis here said they believed the war had taken a dark new turn, with civilians now bearing the brunt of insurgents’ fury. But that does not mean greater public anger at the Taliban.
The attack was so disturbing that people refused to believe that their countrymen were the culprits. If anything, it was met with disbelief or anger at the government for failing to protect civilians.
“The Taliban talk about morality and women’s dress, but they wouldn’t do such a thing to us,” said Muhamed Orenzeib Khan, a gas station attendant who lost nine members of his family in the blast. “Their target was never the common people.”
The brutality of the bombing and people’s reaction show just how complicated Pakistan’s militancy problem has become. The military is now in the third week of a campaign against the Taliban, and though it has widespread public support, there is still a great reluctance to accept that Pakistanis or fellow Muslims are the ones doing the killing.
Like Iraqis in the early days of their war, many Pakistanis insist that foreigners carry out the most devastating bombings, and turn to conspiracy theories to explain a reality that is otherwise too awful to face.
“It’s not easy to say our countrymen are in any way involved,” said Altaf U. Khan, a professor in the journalism department at the University of Peshawar. “There is a feeling of extreme helplessness: ‘We have no power, so why take responsibility?’ ”
Denial brings its own problems, namely the risk of prolonging the insurgency, because people do not know who their enemy is. That seemed to be the case for Muhammed Afzal, an oil trader whose building was damaged in the blast. “I know my tribal people,” he said, sitting on a couch in a room with blown-out windows. “They aren’t strong enough to do something like this.”
Mr. Afzal, who has relatives in Texas and Florida, offered a view of who was responsible, similar to many others interviewed here. “I’m telling you categorically — the people behind this bomb are the Indians and Mossad,” he said, referring to Israel’s intelligence agency. India and Pakistan are archenemies, and India figures into many Pakistani conspiracy theories.
The Meena market is packed with vendors selling fabrics, spices and soap. But it is best known as the place where poor families shop for weddings, whose season begins this month, when Pakistan’s boiling weather cools.
The Khan family members who were killed — among them six children — had gone to the market to buy bangles and new shoes for the children for a wedding that they calculated would cost about $1,250, a sum that took them five years to save.
“These people are merely spectators in our society — they don’t have any say,” said Professor Khan of the University of Peshawar. “They grasp these small happinesses.”
The bombing, he said, “has stabbed at the weakest part of our hearts.”
As confused as people were about the perpetrators of the bombing, their anger at the government was clear and sharp.
Why does the government protect five-star hotels like the Marriott and Serena, where Islamabad’s elite celebrate, but not places like the Meena market? Sonia Khan asked angrily. “This blast targeted poor people,” she said, kneeling in a room without power in an apartment near the market that her family rents. “All the machinery is put toward guarding the rich, and we are left out in the open.”
On Monday, rescue workers were still digging for 15 people who remained missing. Mazar Iqbal, the owner of a plastic-bag shop, stood watching. He was saved by sugar — his wife had asked him to buy some just minutes before the blast — but his neighbor was crushed to death when his shop collapsed from the force of the blast.
Mr. Iqbal said he could not get the images of the women out of his mind, their naked bodies lying on the pavement, a deeply unnatural sight. “We are confused,” he said, as a backhoe scraped at what was left of his shop. “We are not blaming anyone. We are not ready to believe that this was done by a human being.”