The internet remembers Qandeel Baloch as a Pakistani model, actor, and social media celebrity. In the media’s schizophrenic memory, Baloch will forever be the model who shot to fame after offering to take her clothes off if Pakistan won the cricket world cup. When the ink finally dries and Baloch fails to arouse public interest, the tabloids will use her as a passing reference: Remember Qandeel Baloch, Pakistan’s Rakhi Sawant?
Nobody will discuss Qandeel Baloch, the woman who stood up for herself. After all, her credentials weren’t ‘respectable’ or ‘intellectual.’ Suddenly, we journalists who depend on Twitter for our bread and butter, will turn a blind eye to Baloch’s personal feed; it simply isn’t sensational enough.
Trial by Media
As an industry that prides itself on its ability to create and influence public opinion, why has the media collectively decided not to take a stand against vicious social media trolls who send women death and rape threats? The answer, we must bitterly admit, is that we’re nearly as bad as the trolls.
It isn’t in our favour to indict the trolls. You see, ridiculing Qandeel Baloch is Search Engine Optimisation (SEO) friendly. Calling her Pakistan’s Rakhi Sawant or Kim Kardashian guarantees increased engagement. In other words, fuelling the fire is profitable. We feed the trolls. We are, at least in part, responsible for the sexual abuse that ‘social media sensations’ like Rakhi Sawant and Poonam Pandey deal with on a day-to-day basis.
Very few mainstream media organisations will slut-shame Qandeel Baloch outright. In reports of her murder, however, the judgement is evident. The tabloids have lapped up the fact that her ‘drug addict brother’ murdered her; the tragedy of her death is a fitting climax to the scandalous narrative of her life. For once, reality has proven more fruitful than fiction.
Patriarchy, Hypocrisy and Male Desire
Life was not easy for Baloch. Allegedly forced into an abusive marriage, she eventually found her way out. She lost custody of her son. Despite her circumstances, she was her family’s sole bread-winner; supporting among others, the brother who killed her.
Women like Baloch are easy targets on social media. The nature of their jobs is inherently sexual; a large part of what they do is cater to masculine desire. They spend their careers creating an image of themselves to project: the intellectually non-threatening, sexy, lascivious woman. As a result, they are vulnerable to the ridicule and misogyny of their audience, which will never own up to its hypocrisy. After all, there is a demand for the Qandeel Balochs of the world and these women are simply fulfilling it.
Baloch’s death ought to touch a nerve. She is a victim of institutional patriarchy; and the media is complicit. As journalists and publishers, we ought to sit up and take notice. We have the potential to change the discourse around sexual violence and abuse. If we don’t make the attempt, it is likely that we will be responsible for the fate of many more Qandeel Balochs. This time, we are complicit. Next time, the blood will be on our hands.
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