IN Pakistan, seeing police and law enforcement with heavy weapons on roads, checkpoints, markets, or outside offices has become routine. It feels more like a display of power than protection. Subconsciously, it tells the common man that respect and influence belong only to the one who holds a weapon. This thinking seeps into the public, so illegal arms, aerial firing, and private guards are seen as symbols of power and prestige.
A telling example is common here, even a constable alone on a motorcycle carries a Kalashnikov on his shoulder. The aim seems to be creating awe, but it is unprofessional and dangerous. Both hands are occupied on a motorcycle, making it hard to handle a heavy weapon in traffic and crowds. In an accident, the weapon can threaten the official’s own life. Instead of security, it creates fear and anxiety, especially near schools, markets, and crowded areas. No professional principle in the world allows a war weapon to be carried alone like this without safety arrangements.
The civilized world follows the opposite philosophy .The state becomes powerful by concealing weapons, not displaying them. Britain is the best example, where over ninety percent of police work without firearms, carrying only a baton and handcuffs. Weapons are kept with specially trained units called only in serious emergencies. Their philosophy is policing by consent of the public, not by frightening the public. That is why even an unarmed officer there commands more respect and trust than our heavily armed personnel.
Similarly, in Japan, which has one of the lowest crime rates in the world, police rarely use weapons in normal duty. Their real strength is ethics, patience, and respectful communication. They try to resolve disputes through hours of dialogue. In Norway, Iceland, and New Zealand, the practice is even more advanced. On routine patrol, even the gun in the police vehicle is kept in a locked locker, and in Iceland police are not armed at all, yet these countries are counted among the most peaceful in the world. They have proven that when the state trusts its citizens and presents itself as their protector, citizens also respect the state. Where weapons are displayed everywhere, both foreign tourists and our own citizens feel as if the country is in a state of war.
This does not mean our police and army should be disarmed. Pakistan’s security conditions, terrorism threats, and nature of crimes are very different, so it is indispensable for our forces to be armed. The real question is not about being armed, but about appearing armed. Being armed is a responsibility, while displaying weapons is a means of intimidation that creates fear in return. Heavy and war weapons should be restricted to specific operations, checkpoints, and emergency duties. For normal duty and daily routines, a light and concealed weapon is enough.
Most importantly, in the training of our personnel, more emphasis should be placed on ethics, tolerance, and respectful behavior towards the public than on handling weapons. When a soldier talks with a smile and with respect, the public will respect his uniform not because of his weapon, but because of his character. A powerful society is not one where everyone has a weapon, but one where everyone feels safe because of the law. Civilized nations have taught this very lesson that real power lies not in the gun, but in the trust of the people.
—The writer is former Regional Executive Inclusive Development at NBP, Mirpur AK.