Back in 2012 while I was pursuing education in the United Kingdom, I came across a Pakistani vendor selling traditional garments. I struck a conversation with the man, seemingly in his late 40s. It turned out that he had been in the country for the last 16 years — two on paper, 14 off-the-record. When I asked how he had been living without a visa and why he never applied for one, all he had to say was, “Sir, chalta hai, Pakistani hain hum, sub chalta hai” (It happens, we’re Pakistani, it’s all okay), with a smirk on his wrinkled face.
It is unbelievable how powerful this mentality is, and the far-reaching consequences it has for generations to come. Last year, I was running a travel agency as a side business, and received a call from a potential client from Multan. The boy, who had just completed his Intermediate, said he wanted to travel across Europe and wanted help with the documentation, tickets, accommodation, and general advice on the type of sights he’d be seeing in various European countries. Fast forward a couple of days after I had checked his passport, bank details, and other required documents, I received an early surprise. When I enquired about the date on which he’d like to return to the country, he said, “Sir, I just need to get to Italy where I want to meet my uncle. He has a shop there. I’ll stay with him”. I replied, ok, sure, but then you’ll have to apply for the visa with those specific dates”, to which he said, “Sir, khair hai, uncle bhi aise hee gae thay, mene wapis nahi ana, sub chalta hai Pakistanio ke liye” (It’s okay, my uncle went there the same way, I’m not coming back, it all works for us Pakistanis).
Disgusted, I ended the conversation and told him I will not be a part of this. The fact that he knowingly wanted to travel abroad and live illegally, without even realising the obstacles he’d have to face all his life, and how he’d bring disrepute to this country and his family, baffled me.
Countless examples of people that I have come across blame their not-so-legal actions on being Pakistani. Is being a Pakistani equal to being a fraud? Does being a Pakistani make you immune to the system? Does being a Pakistani allow us to completely disregard common sense? Is our level of ignorance such that we choose to blame whatever we do on other people, and when we can’t, we throw it on the country?
I have come to realise that this ‘Pakistaniyat’ is now an ideology plaguing the minds of our youth – eating away any decency, common sense, and ethics that we had, and replacing it with mind-boggling hypocrisy, deceit, selfishness, and dis-alignment from what is right. An ideology that renders us to take swindling actions and blame it on our country; as if it were a person, an eternal entity of corruption that would approve and absolve the person of any wrongdoing.
It is even more baffling to know that it’s the adults who advocate this ideology and pass it on to their kin. A young mind looks up to adults and will always imitate their ways. Instead of imparting knowledge, ethics, manners, and virtues of hard-work, we’re basically telling the next generation to stick to short-cuts and live with a short-term-lottery mind-set like an ignorant hippie chasing the next buzz and trip.
Instead of banking on the politics of hate and criticism, Pakistan needs better brand managers who can advocate all the good that this country has to offer
Perhaps this ideology goes deeper than this. Perhaps, it stems from another self-created stereotype about Pakistan – constant criticism, and never a word of encouragement or sense of empathy.
Take, for example, Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf’s (PTI’s) infant government which took the reins from the Sharif family in the middle of August. At this point in time, close to being a 100-day-old government, I have never seen the level of criticism that this government has had to face until now. No other government, in my lifetime, has been as transparent, or tried to be, as this one. However, the country is judging it as if the current condition of Pakistan is all to blame on PTI. As if the decades of political leadership and family businesses for the Sharifs and Bhuttos weren’t enough for people to realise that they need someone else in charge for a change. No sir.
Don’t get me wrong here. I’m not a PTI fan-boy. However, I do support transparency in all facets of life. The steps, however trivial, I have seen this government take are far better than the steps (or lack of) taken by previous governments – especially to root out corruption.
Every single day, politician after politician jumps on the anti-government bandwagon and says the government has failed in its first 100 days. Perhaps it’s just politics. Perhaps it’s how politicians are. Perhaps it’s just how things in Pakistan work? (See where I’m going with this?)
However, all politics, wealth, business, and the pursuit of influence aside – these politicians are harming not only my generation, but the ones which are yet to enter adulthood. It’s sickening to see the lack of thought in these individuals.
Instead of banking on the politics of hate and criticism, Pakistan needs better brand managers to portray a positive image of Pakistan, and who can be advocates for all the good this country has to offer. So far, the brand managers we have had portray an image of fraud – and call it being ‘Pakistani’.
