On our national symbols

Keeping some; replacing others

I’ve often wondered why hockey is our national sport. Cricket is more popular and it also has the additional advantage of the players’ thighs being appropriately covered while the sport is played. I am sure popularity couldn’t have been the deciding criterion; it must have had something to do with the fact that we won a few hockey trophies pretty early and few things succeed like success.

To be honest, I have never understood the utility of these national symbols, and will be perfectly happy if we were to dispense with most of them. However, if we absolutely must have them, don’t you think it’s time we subjected them to careful re-examination and suggested more appropriate and relevant ones? That is precisely what I intend to do.

It has been a while since we set the world alight in any sport, so we might as well dispense with the success thing and go for the sport that summarises us as a nation. I would recommend the Pakistani version of WWF-style scripted wrestling (noora kushti) as our national sport. We won’t find a better microcosm of the Pakistani political arena – the authorities including the referee and the security personnel often not only pretending to be looking elsewhere but unabashedly aiding a contestant at the detriment of the other if needed. Of course all this is done in good faith and for the longevity and success of the institution – noora kushti in this instance – for the audiences absolutely love the foul play.

I am afraid the choice of Markhor as our national animal is again completely wrong. One, most Pakistanis don’t have any idea what a Markhor is (the whole population knows what Sheermaar is). Two, it is on the verge of extinction and can’t possibly symbolise a God-given nation-state that is here to stay. I propose the ubiquitous Gallus gallus, known more widely – in fact by 100% of the population – as chicken. There is no danger of either its getting extinct (thanks to the untiring efforts of Hamza Shahbaz) or the whole nation’s love affair with it coming to an end any time soon.

I must admit I have nothing against Chukar Partridge (Baanwari Chakori fame) as our national bird. It’s a symbol for intense, unrequited love – appropriately painting our love-hate relationship (love from us, hatred from them) with the US, Saudi Arabia, the UAE and other brotherly states. Chukar is also known to be enamoured by the moon and said to constantly gaze at it – an apt description for the propensity on the part of our masses of enjoying doing absolutely nothing. True, the more I look at our armed forces the strongly I am led to believe that a falcon symbolises us most accurately, but because PAF has already (rightfully) secured it for itself (Falcon Housing Complex, etc), I am happy with the Chukar. That said, the Chukar’s reputation of displaying pugnacious behaviour during the breeding season disturbs me somewhat.

I love our sabz hilaali parcham. I would love it even more if it was more sabz and more hilaali. I mean I have only two problems with it. One, the crescent as shown on our flag is a waning and not a waxing crescent. This is conflicting with our status as an emerging world player. Two, the white strip on the left is far too broad and gives the (wrong) impression that we have a considerable non-Muslim minority. This might easily put ideas in their heads and they might start taking themselves a bit too seriously. As for our national anthem, it should either be in Urdu or in Arabic – Urdu is our national language and Arabic, our spiritual language (not to mention the important fact that it also happens to be the language of Paradise). Persian is unacceptable any which way you look at it.

Faisal mosque is the biggest mosque in Pakistan and is therefore rightly celebrated as our national mosque (size does matter!). Besides, for good measure, it also houses – fittingly, in a symbolic way – arguably our greatest national treasure: our national CMLA, our only true Ameer-ul-momineen. I’d say the Faisal Mosque is, therefore, at least a national symbol and a half. Let’s keep it that way.

The more perceptive of my readers might already be wondering how to be sure our decision to replace a particular national symbol is justified. My proposed solution for this very valid question: Whether or not Nawaz Sharif moves the Supreme Court challenging a certain replacement should be considered the litmus test that settles the issue once and for all. I would even argue that we should extend this litmus test to the resolution of any and all moral issues faced by this nation at present or in future.

The writer is a member of the band Beygairat Brigade that has recently released the single Aaloo Anday.