We mustn’t cease but do more

On August, I found myself attending the annual Ideas Conclave, organised by the Jinnah Institute. One of the keynote events was a session bearing the title ‘Pakistan: Constitution, Security and Citizenship’, with the headline panellist being the chairman of the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP), Bilawal Bhutto Zardari.

To give him his due, Bilawal spoke well. He was precise, said most of the right things and touched upon a number of key issues that have in recent years become an increasing cause of concern for liberal and progressive Pakistanis, such as fears over the rise of a newly emboldened security state

However, there was one remark he made which rankled, which was when he chose to describe the party he leads as ‘empathetic to human rights’ and chided his political opponents for their historical compromises on human rights. Fortunately, I was able to give some vent to my consternation when the floor was opened up to the audience. I asked him where the PPP’s empathy had been when they spearheaded the crusade for the state to judge the belief or non-belief of its citizens through the constitution and what could be done moving forward to make Pakistan an inclusive democratic state for all of its people.

This disconnect between rhetoric and reality is not exclusive to the PPP and, though they have played an outsized role in ensuring that antagonism towards minorities is sown into the very fabric of the nation, they are not alone in this. What was also a transformational moment for Pakistan was the decision to bind the functions of the state to religious principles under the Objectives Resolution, so too were the Islamisation policies of General Zia, and the expansion of laws and numerous retrograde measures that have locked the country into a system of values defined by hatred.

All have been complicit and today it is impossible to be part of the state machinery and not be representative of a system that is structurally divisive and incompatible with any form of equal citizenship or pluralism.

It is not hard to imagine then that the recent address delivered by the Pakistani prime minister before the UN General Assembly about the current crises in Kashmir was another trigger point for me. The speech was actually reasonably accomplished. The prime minister was measured, he made valid criticisms of India for its annexation of Occupied Kashmir, and struck an emotional chord. Like Bilawal he said all the right things but, as the highest state functionary, could not but represent quite a few grating wrongs.

He, after all, leads a country where a minority citizen cannot aspire to become the head of state, where laws exist that target specific communities on the basis of belief, where shops put up signs forbidding people of the wrong faith from entering their premises, where mob attacks on minorities and forced conversions are often matters of concern. Exclusion from the mainstream also means exclusion from the universal equation of citizenship.

It can be argued that, yes, Pakistan has its own problems to answer for, but it is still the most powerful voice advocating for the Kashmiri people who, for the time being, have had their own voices silenced. That is true and nobody is saying that Pakistan should cease in this. Not only is the stance it has taken warranted and politically necessary, but it is also one driven by moral obligation.

Another assertion can be that any rebuke of the Pakistani government’s position at this critical juncture undermines the Kashmiri cause and is a type of all-lives-mattering of the issue. Now, we are told, is not the time to talk about these things.

It bears repeating that Pakistan must not cease its advocacy of the Kashmir issue. Even amidst the near total communications blockade, the stories that have emerged from the valley reflect the heavy human cost of the Indian government clampdown. But still we can urge our government to do more, especially by using this opportunity to not only raise a voice for the Kashmiri people, but to reassess its treatment of its own people.

The two are not mutually exclusive and no matter how difficult and indeed long term the latter challenge might be, the state has been given an opening to at least begin this process of reconciliation.

As far as comparisons that seek to measure between how bad people, or parts of them, are treated in different countries, there is not much to say except that such parallels are toxic, drawn from a position of privilege, and devoid of personal context. One thing we often fail to understand or choose to ignore – even the well-meaning elements amongst us – is that prejudice and bigotry is not only felt and seen in its most palpably monstrous form. More often than not, it is muted and subtle, emotionally disconnected – and at its worst not seen as a problem at all.

I know that mine is a decidedly unpopular stance, but as much as people may choose to pretend otherwise, intolerance of minorities has become the norm for us. For some it is seen as a civic duty to treat those of a different faith group as inferiors. One can only stand and abhor this because bigotry is carrying us towards a dead end.

While we are on the right side of history when it comes to Kashmir, we are very much on the wrong side of it when it comes to our transgressions. And until Pakistan wakes up to this fact, its role as an advocate for the people of Kashmir and for the oppressed elsewhere will continue to be undermined. Surely both Kashmiris and Pakistanis themselves deserve so much more than that.

The writer is a freelance contributor.

Twitter: @usmanahmad_iam