Pakistani Woman Runs Boston Yet Again for Dr. Aafia Siddiqui - Letter to the Boston Globe

Almost immediately after running the 2019 Boston Marathon, I wrote to the Boston Globe expressing my concerns about political prisoner Dr. Aafia Siddiqui. I received the Globe's automated reply, stating the requirements—word limit, copyright (the letter could not have been published elsewhere), and writer identification—which had to be met for a letter to be considered for publication, along with the proclamation that a letter which didn’t appear in print within ten days had likely not been selected for publication. It didn't. I was disappointed that the Globe would not publish it, if only for the novelty of a crazy Pakistani woman running yet another 26.2 miles in the name of a political prisoner. I felt I had adhered to all of the publication criteria. But—I was not at all surprised, considering the paper's previous heavily slanted reporting on Aafia's case. My (unpublished) letter to the Globe read as follows:

April 16, 2019

Letters to the Editor

The Boston Globe

1 Exchange Place, Suite 201

Boston, MA 02109-2132

letter@globe.com

Dear editor,

In the field of 26,632 people running the Boston Marathon on Monday, I was one of very few (perhaps the only) Pakistani women to take on the daunting course. A time-qualified entrant, my current and penultimate marathon PRs are 3:41 (NCR Trail Marathon) and 3:42 (Baltimore Marathon), both set within the last five years. At age 50, I am pleased to say Boston 2019 was my 42nd marathon (my second time running it).

I ran Boston to call attention to the plight of Dr. Aafia Siddiqui, a Pakistani Muslim woman neuroscientist, degreed by the prestigious M.I.T.  Aafia once lived and studied in the beautiful city of Boston.

Today she is imprisoned in Texas, having first been kidnapped by authorities in Pakistan. This occurred during the period when “secret renditions” were common in Pakistan, then her place of residence. Aafia was tortured and likely raped in prison in Pakistan and Afghanistan. After that, she was brought to New York, and put on trial.

Previously very healthy and vibrant, the petite neuroscientist was wheeled into court in a wheelchair by her jailors. The court disallowed nearly all exculpatory evidence which could have helped her, but allowed highly conflicting and emotional (anti-Muslim) evidence to be presented.  Soon, Aafia was convicted and sent to FMC Carswell.

The unspeakable injustice being done to this woman is the reason I braved the pouring rain, and then the midday heat to run my second Boston Marathon. It was one of the most challenging of the 42 marathons I’ve run, and my finish time did not remotely approach either my PR, or my qualifying time. The only saving grace was that I did not resort to walking, not even on Heart Break Hill.

My reason for running made it all worthwhile. Aafia, or Behan Aafia (our sister Aafia), as we Pakistanis call her. In Pakistan, there is near universal sentiment that she is innocent and ought to be released.

My tee bore the words “Free Dr. Aafia Siddiqui, along with a picture of her cherubic face in hijab. It drew occasional questions from fellow marathoners, and I was happy to share her story as we tackled hill after hill.

In a period when women’s rights have finally and appropriately gained center stage, why is the violation of rights of this innocent Pakistani woman allowed to continue? She has already endured 16 years of unjust imprisonment. I urge women’s rights organizations and movements, politicians, humanitarians, and media to look into her case, and to call for her immediate release.

Nadrat Siddique

#FreeAafiaSiddiqui #FreeAllPoliticalPrisoners #BostonMarathon

Running While Muslim, Running for Aafia

By Nadrat Siddique

Special to the New Trend

It was Patriot’s Day Monday in Boston, and I ran through torrential rain from my hotel to the Boston Common two miles away. I was there to run my second Boston Marathon, calling attention to the case of a small, slight Pakistani Muslim woman neuroscientist, being held political prisoner by the United States. Her name is Dr. Aafia Siddiqui.

Boston is very odd as far as marathons go, for three reasons. For one, unlike nearly all other races, which are held on the weekend, Boston is held on a Monday. And that Monday is nowhere a holiday except in Boston.

Secondly, the race starts for most runners—depending on one’s assigned start time—around 10:30 or 11:00 a.m., very late by racing standards. Nearly all other races start around 7:00 or 8:00 a.m., with some starting as early as 6:00 a.m., both to avoid the heat of the day, and to minimize traffic blockages. The late start means that a majority of Boston Marathon runners do the bulk of their running in the afternoon heat, which raises the specter of serious health risk.

The third major oddity about Boston is that the course is one-way, as opposed to a loop, or multiple loops, like most marathons. On race morning, we runners gathered at the Boston Common to be bused to the tiny town of Hopkinton, approximately 26 miles west of the city.  Once there, in what seemed a no-man’s land, we were, at our assigned time, to run our way back to Boston. In between were a multitude of colleges, hills, and screaming fans. The fans lined every mile of the course, making the race extremely boisterous. It is decidedly not the place for an introvert. The runners were overwhelmingly White, as were most of the fans. There were, relatively speaking, a small number of Asian and light-skinned Latino runners.

The race was sponsored by the financial giant John Hancock. The founding father’s name was everywhere, proudly plastered on our marathon medals, mylar blankets (reflective blankets given to runners post-race to prevent hypothermia), and other marathon paraphernalia and memorabilia. There was no discussion of the fact that Hancock, like the other founding fathers, was a slave owner.

In the Boston Common, we runners went through a checkpoint, to get to the yellow school buses which would carry us to the race start. We were told precisely what type of bag (clear plastic) could be carried on the buses. Grateful to be out of the rain, we boarded the buses under the direction of volunteers. The twenty-six mile bus trip took close to an hour. It provided a welcome opportunity for runners to dry off.

Once in the very white Hopkinton, we went through an additional checkpoint to the starting area. Repeatedly, it was emphasized that only the clear plastic bags provided by the race organizers could be used for bag check (ie to allow runners to leave essential items needed after the race in a common but secured holding area). Automated announcements repeated ad naseum that unattended bags (along the course) would be confiscated by authorities and might be destroyed. A large number of metropolitan police, as well as some military police with submachines (the number of the latter had diminished significantly since the 2017 race, which I’d run) lined the course. Army snipers were positioned on rooftops in Hopkinton and at various points along the course.

Many of the athletes represented corporate teams. These names, e.g. Dana Farber, were pre-printed on runners’ singlets (sleeveless running shirts). As I ran, I heard the corporate names yelled out frequently by spectators, far more often than individual names. To me, this was yet another indicator of the stranglehold of corporate culture in the U.S. At many smaller races, spectators call out runner’s names (sometimes printed on the runners bibs) as they pass. Or, they call out the runners’ bib numbers, or other identifying nouns based on runners’ attire to encourage them. Not so at Boston. Unlike at previous races where I’ve worn the same shirt, nary a person yelled for me, “Go Aafia!”

Some runners ran in memory of a deceased family member, whose name they wore on their shirt. A few had country affiliation on their shirts. The most interesting were the visually impaired runners. According to statistics which I read later on the race website, these numbered 44, and required a guide companion. Each runner/ guide pair held opposite ends of what looked like a connecting plastic bag to keep them together, with the guide wearing a tee saying “Blind Runner.”

No other runners, as far as I could tell by observation and later research, ran for a political prisoner. And this year, like the last, there appeared to be few, if any other Pakistani women. As I said the last time I ran Boston, I could only run this race for Aafia. It pained me, as I ran past the turnoff to M.I.T., where Aafia had once studied, to think of this petite woman, beloved mother of three, and star scholar, suffering in a tiny Texas prison cell for a crime she clearly did not commit. But—what pained me the most was that Muslims, even those who knew her during her time in the U.S., and all Muslim organizations, except for Jamaat al-Muslimeen and the Aafia Foundation, were willfully silent on her suffering. And silence is still complicity.

By now, I have run two National (Washington DC) Marathons, a Chicago Marathon, and two Boston Marathons in Aafia’s name. (All told, I have run 42 marathons, but many of them have been for my own personal edification/ challenge, which I also view as important.) I am obviously not a professional athlete, or particularly fast. My best mile time is 7:18, run at the International 5K in Columbia, MD, where I represented Pakistan (unofficially).

I am not paid by anyone to run for Aafia or other political prisoners. I run for them because I believe it is a fundamental part of my faith, Islam, to stand up for the oppressed.

The Qur’an says in Surat-ul Balad, “And what is the Ascent? It is to free a slave.” I view it as my responsibility to fight for the freedom of the modern day slaves, the political prisoners, whose existence, while denied by the U.S. government, is an unfortunate reality under the system of White Supremacy and the congruous imperialist wars.

In that capacity, I traveled to the Black Hills (SD) and Plymouth (MA), to run for Leonard Peltier; to Salt Lake City (UT) and Hyannis (MA), and to run for Mumia Abu Jamal (Black Panther political prisoner); to Chicago to run for Aafia; to Wilmington to run for (then-) Bradley Manning (Wikileaks whistleblower turned political prisoner); and now again to Boston to run for Aafia. There is always a way to speak out when grave injustice is occurring, however one chooses to do it. And for me, it is through running.

#FreeAafiaSiddiqui #FreeAllPoliticalPrisoners #BostonMarathon2019 #RunningForJustice

© 2019 Nadrat Siddique

This article first appeared in New Trend, April 21, 2019

Maintaining the Silence on Aafia

What do the Washington Post, the Boston Globe, and (the Pakistani daily) Dawn have in common? They all maintain the silence on the unjust imprisonment of Dr. Aafia Siddiqui. As such, they are abdicating their responsibility as media organs to seek truth in this case of gross human rights violations of an innocent Muslim woman scientist.

My letter to the Washington Post on Aafia (after running the 2018 DC Rock ‘N Roll Marathon in her name; letter is as yet unpublished by the Post):

https://siddiqun.blogspot.com/2018/03/her-too-assault-and-rape-in-case-of-dr.html

My letter to the Boston Globe on Aafia (after running the 2017 Boston Marathon in her name; letter remains unpublished by the Globe):

https://siddiqun.blogspot.com/2017/04/running-boston-marathon-for-pakistani.html

My letter to (Pakistani daily) Dawn on Aafia (after running the 2016 DC Rock ‘N Roll Marathon to call attention to Aafia’s case; letter was not published by Dawn):

http://siddiqun.blogspot.com/2016/03/letter-to-dawn-pakistani-daily.html

It is particularly shameful that Pakistani and other Muslim media refuse to openly and honestly discuss her case, or take any step which would compel Pakistani lawmakers to intercede on Aafia’s behalf. Inshallah, they will be held to account on the Last Day.

--Nadrat Siddique