There is one thing common between the Pakistan of the 1950s and the one it has developed into, post-millennium. And that is its level of popularity. Back in the ’50s, the new nation was of interest to a global audience and leaders for its culture; its rich heritage; its potential and promise, which was subsequently highlighted in Time Inc’s infamous documentary, The March of Time. However, Pakistan of the recent past has become popular for reasons completely opposite to those in its hey days - suicide bombings, religious fanaticism and targeted killings; in short, for the promise that has been lost in vain. The ‘War on Terrorism’ turned the nation on its head, making it an epicenter of blood and gore, militancy and radicalization. While minorities came under fire, so did those with a liberal mindset regardless of caste and creed. Sects were under threat, ethnicities were under threat and so was culture. Naturally then, the country became a hot topic for international media and aspiring documentarians - not only for all things wrong within but also for those surviving amidst the wrong; breaking stereotypes and defying the odds.

Over the years, a number of reality series and documentaries have tried to cover the country’s ongoing struggles against extremism through individual life stories - Hawa Kay Naam, Without Shepherds, Every Last Child, Song of Lahore and He Named Me Malala to name a few. Yet another addition to this burgeoning list is 101 East’s Pakistan: Music Under Siege that, by definition, looks into how "in Pakistan, making music can have deadly consequences", how "religious hardliners see secular music as un-Islamic and have silenced musicians’ voices", and asks if "despite facing death threats and censorship, Pakistan’s musicians can mend an already crippled industry?"

The idea for the 25-minutes long film, according to journalist, filmmaker and host, Steve Chao, was not a figment of his imagination but a consequence of the reality that Pakistani musicians were suffering. "The idea for our documentary came from people in Pakistan writing to us, including artists and musicians, who suggested we look at how music and arts in general has been under threat in Pakistan," Chao told Instep. "The artists and musicians who wrote in, told us of the personal dangers they faced - including attacks on their lives and on the venues in which they had been at. They also shared how they believed the cultural scene was on the cusp of a revival, but there needed to be a fierce debate over the challenges that still exist. And it’s for this reason - the idea of a potential turning point for culture in Pakistan - that we went ahead with filming this program."

Only the naïve would deny the potential dangers Pakistan’s music scene is exposed to at the hands of growing fundamentalism. Since 2006, approximately 175 CD shops have been torched in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Folk singers including Wazir Khan Afridi, Ghazala Javed and Aymen Udas were killed in brutal attacks as well as Anwar Gul, whose tragic death is re-enacted in the documentary through his friend and singer Gulzar Alam’s memory of the attack. Alam, too, was targeted and has been crippled for life ever since, relying on a walking stick for support. In depicting that, Pakistan: Music Under Siege, produced over eight months of sheer hard work, dialogue and research, makes a valid point. However, while what the documentary portrays is true, it is not the whole truth and perhaps that is why its release has ignited a heated debate on social media.

Sure, security is an aspect that the industry has been battling with in order to resist losing its connection with fans and avoid the shrinkage of public spaces, and for years that has often ended up being a failed attempt, but security is not the only aspect pushing the industry towards a stalemate. In fact, the biggest deterrents to the industry’s growth have been the economy and copyright laws. For the past few years, musicians haven’t had an operating record label promoting and selling their music. The ones that did exist offered no monetary compensation to the artistes while simultaneously taking away the rights to the music. EMI, one of the big players in the industry, is currently making more headlines for the copyright lawsuits it is engaged in than for producing music. Over time, piracy, Bollywood influx and the failure to embrace the digital shift meant that making records was no longer a viable business - one could make music but not a living out of making it. Lack of government support, the extent of corruption where a successful event is marked by bribes to the area’s police, and limited venues make for other reasons of the damage done.

In the film’s defense, it does highlight the aftermath of the ban on YouTube and the lack of intellectual property rights in rapper Ali Gul Pir’s personal experience but it only scratches the surface at best. Focusing more on the interconnection of security issues and growing extremism in the Northern parts of the country, the documentary is offering a pre-conceived, hackneyed commentary on the Pakistani music industry’s fall from grace. Writer Sanjeev Miglani says, "the world prefers its stereotypes simple"; similarly the documentary’s projection seems to be based around the obvious, without really digging deeper into the cause.

Another facet that Pakistan: Music Under Siege ignores, despite asking if the musicians can mend the crippled industry, is that musicians are already doing so. They may not be making money yet but they have done an incredible job at resisting the insidious changes in the society and not giving in. The success of Coke Studio stands as the perfect antidote to Western perceptions that Pakistan is mired in backwardness and conflict. The show, in its eighth season, beats all other international versions of the series and gave equal space to both traditional folk and modern contemporary music of Pakistan. Pakistan’s steady presence at the Red Bull Academy and the SXSW, the fact that the country held its first Music Meet in Lahore, its second indie music festival Storm in a Teacup; that Karachi itself has hosted a number of live music concerts and festivals over the past year with overwhelming crowds in attendance; that Indie musicians like Sikander ka Mandir as well as age-old bands like Noori have all produced full-fledged albums and that the rise of independent cinema is serving as a platform for local musicians to produce better quality music, are all signs of a revival. And while the documentary aims to explore how the industry is on the cusp of a rebirth on paper, it fails to translate it on celluloid, resorting to the clichéd portrayal of Pakistan as a war-torn region and a failed state, at best.

Clearly this lack of appreciation and recognition has not sat well with the rest of the industry. Jimmy Khan, an up and coming artist, chimed in the live social media debate on the documentary and gave his following two cents. "Undoubtedly we have had security concerns in the past and they continue even today," he wrote. "[But] the fact is artists are still getting recognized for their work and the corporate sector is still playing an incremental role in promoting music. What we have lost is the opportunity to perform as much, compared to the days of Vitals Signs, Junoon, Awaaz etc. Having said that, in the last year I have played three highly successful festivals in three major cities of Pakistan proving that provided the security (like anywhere else in the world) we are still able to hold these public events. Reports like these will not only discourage musicians and others in the business to continue working on creating a more solid infrastructure but also instill in the minds of the global audience that there is no present and no future of this music industry. I myself am a new entrant in to the mainstream music scene in Pakistan."

He further reflected on how opportunities in the local sphere have made him a popular face all over. "Opportunities in Pakistan have allowed me to perform locally and internationally, create the music I write and be known for what I do. I’m not saying the conditions are ideal and we still need to put in a lot of work to establish the industry further. And this is not to say that there is no truth to what some of the artists have been through as discussed in this report but I’d like to see some examples of those who have been doing music for years and have established themselves in the said current circumstances," he added.

Singer-composer Zeb Bangash, too, feels the narrative is exaggerated. "It shows only one side of the story," Zeb said while speaking to Instep. "It’s confusing too many things and looking at only one particular aspect that is mostly super-imposed. Quite contrary to what we believe, a lot of international journalists bring the idea that culture is under threat in Pakistan and that narrative has become really old. If you look at India, an independent voice of musicians is difficult to find there, but here young musicians are often given way too much attention just because they are musicians. Famous, busy musicians want to invest their time in promoting up and coming artistes. We are known, we have corporate sponsorships backing us; we have the mainstream rewarding us. Often it is our identity that allows us to perform and that is something we have to be grateful for now."

"There is so much intricacy and richness in Pakistani music that is denied or ignored, in order to focus on only one aspect. The documentary comes across as disappointingly inaccurate," she added. "No one ever mentioned how the market worked because market forces had a lot to do with the decline of the music industry and even then it’s still flourishing. Its premise is underdeveloped. It’s a pre-conceived idea that was reconstructed outside and presents a narrative that has been thrashed over and over again. It’s time to show some gratitude to the country because we are really able to follow our desires and get so much appreciation because of it." On the contemporary Pakistani artists that became part of the documentary, Zeb said, "As artists we need to give more depth into how we engage with the media outside."

Chao saw the criticism coming but feels that while there are a number of success stories signaling a revival, the myriad of challenges, especially security, cannot be ignored. "When we started this film, we knew it would generate debate. People in Pakistan, especially the younger urban generation, are fiercely proud of their music.  And they have every right to be since there is incredible talent. But if we as a society cannot look and speak about the challenges facing our communities, then we will fail to improve them," he asserted. "Yes, Coke Studio has played a major role in starting to revive music in Pakistan, along with fusing modern and traditional elements of Pakistani music (keep in mind, Coke Studio was integral in our piece and was introduced at the climax of our film with Sara Haider, who is very much a product of Coke Studio). And yes, there are many organizations and groups trying to help rural talent grow. Khumariyaan is one of those examples. And again, for those who watch our film in its entirety, they will see us celebrate the moments where communities band together to bring music to the public i.e. the I Am Karachi festival. But in celebrating the successes, we must still look at the multitude of challenges. Sara Haider talks about the stigmas that women entering the music field still face. There is also a large segment of the population that still believes that music is haram, and is immoral."

Speaking of gender-related stigmas, Sara Haider sheds light on an important drawback in Pakistani society that also extends to the cultural bracket, and in that respect, the documentary must be given due credit. Having said that, there are many brave women, like Slowspin, Zeb Bangash, Natasha Humera Ejaz, Haniya Aslam, Tara Mahmood, Quratulain Baloch and Zoe Viccaji, who have broken these barriers and become the changing face of Pakistani music industry.

Coming back to the documentary, what could have been a positive and motivating presentation of Pakistani music industry’s fight against the odds and their efforts to thrive, serves as a misrepresentation of the country as a whole, feeding into the world’s insecurities related to the country and bypassing the cultural transformations that are underway. Pakistan: Music Under Siege fails to acknowledge and respect the industry’s transition period and the possibility for new age music to have a better future; instead meeting the West’s commonly-branded understanding of the country.  In short, the truth is far more complex than what the documentary describes and quite frankly, we are tired of the done and dusted approach to covering anything and everything in Pakistan.