It is interesting to note the number seven's proliferation in the life of the country this year. Pakistan Day, March 23 was the 77th anniversary of the Lahore Resolution to create a sovereign state. Pakistan became a reality on August 14, 1947; and in a few months from now we will celebrate its 70th birthday; and this is the year 2017. So many sevens sound like a good omen. I am not by nature superstitious, except when something seems like a prediction of good fortune, like the itching of my right palm meaning I will get money. So all these sevens, I firmly believe (superstitiously, of course) predict good fortune for the future of this country.
However, my optimism has sustained a blow: nearly everyone commenting on Pakistan Day pointed out that parochial attitudes have replaced love of country. We do not call ourselves Pakistani but Punjabi, Pakhtun, Baloch, Sindhi, Mohajir. This has lessened my enthusiasm because it is true. Sad but true. Too, too true. Unfortunately, it gets worse: religious extremism supersedes political provincialism, erasing secular and modern traits from our identity.
In a casual discussion opinions were shared about how to salvage the Pakistani identity. A pertinent question on the table was if we ever had a Pakistani identity. It seems such an identity was never allowed to blossom. In the documentary of the Lahore Resolution you see a great multitude seconding the resolution. The Pakistan Movement was people's movement; without mass support our leaders could not so confidently demanded and get what they wanted: a sovereign country in which to live with our heads held high. It was the first and last time the masses had a voice and were the engine that produced the end result: freedom.
The untold miseries suffered during the Partition is a dark chapter heart-breaking, tragic as every kind of atrocity was heaped on the migrants. Yet they bore it because they could see hope, peace and prosperity in their new homeland. This was not to be.
Independence did not change the fortunes of the masses. They had simply exchanged one set of authoritarian rulers, the British, for Brown sahibs who behaved like the Colonial masters, treating the public like lowly serfs. The masses did not matter. The early years of Pakistan were devoted to establishing power blocs, one of the armed forces, another of the landed gentry the feudal lords. Overnight one government would fall and another take its place. Then came the long periods of Martial Law and military rule of Ayub Khan, Yahyah Khan, Zia-ul-Haq and Musharraf who were the key players among several other military rulers. 1971 and the fall of Dacca, amputating East Pakistan which became Bangladesh caused a huge identity crisis. Who were we? What was the definition of a Pakistani?
But for the generations who grew up in post-1971 Pakistan, who were born after that date, the past is not a living memory. For the younger generation, therefore, this truncated country is Pakistan. And they proudly say 'I am Pakistani'. This is not mere sentimentality. Cynics think otherwise, pointing to the number of disgruntled youth who join jehadis. I ask them how many? They are not the face of Pakistan. The young to whom the future belongs are a mentally healthy, different breed. They are hard to indoctrinate with political parochialism or the propaganda of the zealots.
So, I think, the future will be in good hands. Of course, there will be political exploitation, attempts to recruit them as jehadis, but ultimately the kinks will iron out. That is my hope. I have placed my money on number seven.