A country caught in multiple crises, always drifting from one catastrophe to another, giving birth to monsters that quite often go out of its control.
That’s how the world generally identifies Pakistan. And, since terrorism-related violence has already claimed over fifty thousand precious Pakistani lives, it is hard to dispute this image.
The country’s clergy keeps telling us that it was created in the name of religion and it would be nothing without religion at the center of its political structure.
Thank you for your vote of confidence but, is it really true?
The trouble is today’s Islamic political narrative is devoted to a Pan-Islamic super state or Caliphate which undermines the concept of a nation state. Hence, the religious argument does Pakistan no favour either.
Additionally, there are too many interpretations of Islam, you choose one and the country becomes a hotbed for never-ending sectarian clashes. A religious identity has its limitations for Pakistan in any case.
Islam did not originate in lands that are now part of Pakistan. As the language of Islam remains Arabic, we, the non-Arabs are perpetually locked out of the process of religious interpretation. If we are to accept the clergy’s advice we are bound to follow whatever is decided in the Arab world.
As if the religious right’s point of view was not enough, some of our neighbors also constantly keep reminding us that Pakistan is an artificial state, born unnaturally, bound to fail eventually.
Attempts have been made to find an alternative secular identity for the country. Aitzaz Ahsan tried in vain to find an explanation in the culture of the Indus delta. Late Professor Ahmad Hasan Dani also tried to do something similar by probing the Gandhara civilization and others that have existed in this region. But more of that later.
It is funny how since independence, simple words have been twisted to make way for an identity based on religion alone. The faith in the Quaid’s motto unity, faith and discipline became eeman (faith in God) from yakeen-e-mohkam (faith as in conviction). The theory in the two nation theory became nazria (doctrine, ideology) from mafrooza (untested theory). And from there, we invented the ideology of Pakistan. It is not a debate about the two nation theory being right or wrong. The question here is why we need such a theory 68 years after independence.
The vulnerability syndrome
In 1971 Pakistan lost its eastern wing. Decades of neglect and uneven policies brought that day upon us. But, since then, this tragic episode has been employed by both the religious right and our critics abroad to prove that an independent Pakistani identity does not exist. We are told that our country is home to disparate ethnic identities, which just like Bangladesh, can walk out of the federation whenever they choose.
This could not be farther from truth.
Granted Pakistan, like India, is a polyglot but it still has the trappings of a common bond. Also the Bangladesh example fails to take into account the most crucial aspect of all – the geographical contiguity.
East Pakistan was not geographically contiguous to today’s Pakistan, the rest of the country’s parts are. Urdu, despite facing a host of critics, comfortably remains the national language. Even the state’s worst enemies like Hakeemullah Mehsud and separatist Allah Nazar Baloch have given many interviews in fluent Urdu. Shalwar Kameez is the most common dress among all ethnicities.
The cost of a religious identity
The country’s founding father Mohammad Ali Jinnah’s August 11, 1947 speech is mentioned and quoted so liberally among the moderate circles that it has become something of a cliché.
However, what is not often related is how a federal secretary arbitrarily decided to censor it before its release. It proves that even as early as 1947 there were souls who desperately wanted to give the country a religious character.
It is no wonder that soon after Mr Jinnah’s death the Objectives Resolution became the country’s first constitutional surrender to the demands of religious clerics. It is also noteworthy here that the religious right had never actually supported the idea of Pakistan.
After the independence, the successor of Jamiat-e-Ulema-e-Hind in the country refused to be identified with the word Pakistan and chose Jamiat-e-Ulema-e-Islam as its new name. However, the religious right’s early monopoly on the identity of Pakistan ensured that a more mundane identity could not emerge.
Since then, the country has paid a heavy price for this choice. Here is how:
The cultural cost
Why is it that there is no statue of the country’s founding father in the federal capital or elsewhere?
Surely the custodians of our faith can tell a commemorative statue and a worshipped idol apart?
Why is it that our musicians despite incredible talent never enjoy the rockstar status that they deserve? Why is it that the last known rockstar of the country now spends his life as a penitent Godman and televangelist? Is it not because our clergy considers music a sin?
Again, how would you characterise this country’s architecture? Any prominent building that you think represents Pakistani culture? The Faisal mosque in Islamabad perhaps? Nah, that is designed to look like a Bedouin tent. Yet, an Arab desert tent in the middle of a non-Arab oasis. Shouldn’t that be enough to tell you a thing or two about our identity crisis?
Stage, cinema, television entertainment, painting, fiction, poetry, book reading and everything even mildly entertaining has come under fire from the Godmen in the Islamic republic.
In an interactive talk show on curriculum reform, a caller asked me why the beautiful novella Goobye, Mr Chips taught to our intermediate students couldn’t be replaced with the biography of the Prophet (peace be upon him).
It took me a while to explain to him the difference between a novel and a biography, the importance of reading novels originally written in English and the difference between literature and religion, in short things we take for granted.
Cultural pursuits are mostly unacceptable to the religious lot because of a
