Policing in Sindh | The Express Tribune

Though many structural and institutional factors influence and regulate individual and group behaviour in a socio-political setting, one of the key entities of social control is the group of people legally mandated by the state to safeguard citizens and apprehend outlaws. It is to these bodies that the label ‘police’ is ordinarily applied. Policing serves as the first link in the criminal justice system and constitutes one of the essential functions every sovereign state undertakes. The key agent, nevertheless, functions effectively only when its structural, strategic and operational culture – its ‘policing’ – is independent, people-centric and adequately equipped.

However, policing systems that evolve into increasingly militarised and politicised often lack expertise, rendering society more vulnerable to systemic crime and social disorder. This vulnerability is exacerbated by policing that prioritises the interests of a narrow elite over enforcing laws and fundamental rights, effectively acting as a vanguard that enforces Machiavellian dictates – a pattern starkly familiar in our part of the world. The policing system in Pakistan, including in Sindh, suffers significant shortcomings on structural, organisational, legal and operational fronts. Though policing might theoretically aim at deterring crime, in the northern districts of Sindh, it tends to exploit crime, thereby adding to criminal susceptibility.

The state of law and order in northern Sindh is evidently alarming, particularly in Kashmore, Shikarpur, Ghotki, Jacobabad, Sukkur and Larkana. The blatant violations of human rights – including, but not limited to, the marginalisation and abuse of women, tribal bloodletting, the lucrative industries of extortion and kidnapping for ransom and extrajudicial killings – rarely make it into mainstream reports or the state’s policy discourse.

The investigation branch, as another channel of corruption, has been kept dormant in the northern districts of Sindh. Investigating officials, whether promoted or questionably recruited through the SPSC, predictably fail in their investigative roles. In operational branches, most postings in police stations across northern Sindh are based on political and personal connections, often resulting in underqualified personnel being appointed to key roles. For instance, out of the 20 sanctioned and notified thanas in Kashmore, only two SHOs are qualified according to the prescribed police rules. In the remaining stations, constables and ASIs work as SHOs on the ground in lieu of the SHOs merely shown on record.

Per a police official, SSPs are rarely posted without pre-set conditions and continue their work as long as they please a “quartet”. As a result, most of the time, SSPs prioritise avoiding actions that might displease their patrons, leaving them little time to focus on their assigned task of arresting crime. To mask actual criminality, most SSPs in Northern Sindh resort to two common tactics. One, they patronise courtier reporters and co-opt press clubs to secure favourable coverage. In return, journalists receive perks, including influence in policing and the assignment of police personnel, whom they often send on paid leave, colloquially referred to as a ‘visa’ in police jargon.

The other increasingly common tactic is to hire local digital minions and civil society activists for publicity stunts – groups that eulogise officials to help maintain their public appeal, particularly among an uninformed populace. The toadies receive favours such as half-cups of tea, selfies with officials, pats on their backs, etc. These two groups not only help SSPs mask actual criminality but also tend to present officials’ obligatory actions as altruism to the people.

Most officials in Upper Sindh are not engaged in genuine policing; instead, they are well-connected, highly politicised and adept at profiting from crime – yet they are still eulogised as messiahs by minions. Shouldn’t sustainable peace in the area – among other reforms – prompt the criminalisation of sycophancy and its codification as a cognisable, non-bailable offence in the country? This move might also hasten the collapse of this parasitic status quo as a collateral benefit. Won’t it?