Keeping it unreal

Decades ago when I was a young boy, six years of age, my maternal grandfather narrated a story to me which has stayed with me ever since. The story goes something like this: a farmer’s daughter fell in love with a fisherman and got married to him. Once she got married to the love of her life, the woman moved to her husband’s fishing village. In the first few weeks she, being a farmer’s daughter, found the constant smell of seawater and fish very disconcerting. She would constantly complain that the place stank. However, a few months into her matrimonial life she got used to the smell. Once she got used to the smell, she told her husband, “Since I have come here, this place has stopped stinking. I made the smell go away”.
This simple tale, imaginary as it may be, underlines an important lesson that counsels against losing sight of reality merely because we are trying to adapt. Since I am away from Pakistan I am in the process of adapting to a new land while also trying to keep a balanced perspective on Pakistan. This process is enlightening in many ways and uncomfortable in others.
A few weeks ago one of my favourite Pakistani columnists wrote a most thought-provoking column where she raised pertinent questions regarding the present generation of young Pakistanis. She asked whether this generation actually has a vision of where they want to go and where they want to take Pakistan. At the time I thought she was being too harsh on our generation — now I realise I failed to engage with her concerns since I was using the myopic lens she counselled against. The more I read of what most Pakistanis my age have to say in newspapers, the more I realise of how we are preaching to the wrong people. If someone needs preaching to, it is us and not anyone ‘out there’.
Over the last fortnight or so I have read pieces where Pakistanis living abroad have lamented most things about life in Pakistan. A theme most common is a romance with the notion of ‘freedom’ — be it the freedom of ideas or simply the freedom to be. A lot of young people, including myself, who are living away from Pakistan are often guilty of selling ourselves in a desperate attempt to be relevant to the outside world. We will lament Pakistan’s corruption, a patriarchal society, the lack of diversity and lack of respect for it etc. But hang on. How often are these concerns linked to the broader picture and how often are they a reflection merely upon our own lives?
The danger is that in our attempts to be relevant we may be ignoring not just the bigger picture but also perpetuating the myth of Pakistan being a dysfunctional country teetering on the brink of collapse. It is not one — definitely not for the privileged educated souls who not only largely live lives of comfort but also have the responsibility of shaping the public discourse to further a good that encapsulates the general public.
There are serious problems with our country and I will be the first to admit that. But far too often our focus is the wrong thing. Young people seem obsessed with corruption and how it impacts their daily lives. I, quite frankly, do not think that corruption is what is holding us back. It is not the biggest issue. Many countries that are high on the Transparency International’s Corruption Index can and have continued to grow at a good rate. This is not an argument against eliminating corruption. Of course it is despicable and needs to be countered effectively. But eliminating that one thing is not the answer. How often will people discuss the change that can be brought from within the system?
I find it scary when young Pakistanis wish for a revolution. Forget the question of who will it bring to power — the more important point is that we simply do not need one! We are a Federation with a written constitution that allows for regular elections. We have political parties from all parts of the country that fight bitterly but that also represent genuinely held beliefs and concerns by various constituencies. Our judiciary, for better or worse, is increasingly activist and it is not the end of the world if the judiciary takes on the executive. Many of the developments we will and should disagree with but that does not make Pakistan a dysfunctional country.
Of course, it is shameful how we treat our minorities. But it is up to our generation to take responsibility to remedy historical injustices. Blaming history is far too easy and giving up on the future far too criminally negligent a policy. Throwing up our hands and saying, ‘this country has no freedom’, is not an option — even though that approach may propel your writings or voices. There are many freedoms that we have simply not chosen to exercise for other’s benefit. Nothing stops the educated and privileged Pakistanis from adopting powerful stances on education reform and health care and yet very few do that.
There is a certain decay that our inaction can perpetuate and we must arrest that decay and take charge of things. As I wrote some time ago, our arguments and our courage to stand by them will shape the future of this country and there is no shortage of role models in Pakistan. Whether you are looking for enterprising business leaders, lawyers, politicians, journalists, doctors, government servants — men or women — there are inspiring stories everywhere. Our politicians have to listen to us and all of us can help educate others about where they go wrong. The success or failure of Pakistan is in our hands. If you and I can find the courage to adopt arguments and advance them, while accepting that our situation is difficult but not dissimilar to what others have surmounted, then this country will always have hope.
Whether you are alone or with friends, foreigners or locals, talk about Pakistan in a way that is honest — honest to your and the country’s real problems. That could also be the first step in tackling corruption for a dishonest narration of a country is fundamentally corrupt.

The writer is a Barrister and an Advocate of the High Courts. He has a special interest in Antitrust law and is currently pursuing an LLM at a law school in Cambridge, Massachusetts.