The saviour syndrome

Leo Tolstoy, in his classic novel War and Peace, brilliantly puts the ‘Great Man’ theory of Scottish historian and philosopher Thomas Carlyle to rest. Depicting a country in great turmoil and facing internal and external crises, Tolstoy argues that it is the grassroot strengths of ordinary individuals, more than those with high titles, mighty estates and big armies, that shape history and destiny. It is the unassuming peasants like, Platon Karatev in War and Peace, who use integrity, honesty and human connection to guide others, including those who may be far superior in privilege and status.

There are a million reasons to read Tolstoy for the pure joy of literature (and some of the recent translations are really accessible and make for a delightful read for all ages), but his views are all the more relevant today as we publicly talk in terms of a single saviour, last chance or the only hope. Whether that term is used for a cricketer-turned politician, a father-son duo in Lahore and Islamabad or a person wearing a uniform, pinning hopes on one person (or a small group) is akin to giving away the capacity of people as agents of real change. To me, it is both demeaning and a bad strategy. Demeaning because it assumes that only those few who are privileged can lead, and countless others who may be far superior in integrity, decency and ability should stay out of the business of inertia, leadership and guidance. It also assumes that we must choose from within the existing lot, and pin our hopes on one of the available choices. It is also a bad strategy because when our last saviour and our only hope turns out to be a disappointment (or is no longer around), we feel angry, frustrated and hopeless. Soon, we start looking anew for another last savior from the privileged few.

A related argument about the extraordinary capacity of a few is seen at play when we talk about our expats. Here I speak from a personal experience. Too often, we are told that our best minds are outside the country and as a consequence Pakistan is unable to meet its full potential. Many believe that our political, economic, academic institutions are in a bad shape because the best people have left the country. This is once again assuming that a small fraction of our total population (roughly 4%, as per Overseas Pakistani Foundation, that includes children) is smarter or more gifted than 96% of the population that is well over 220 million.

I wish I could say that I am smarter than my colleagues in Pakistan, or that my intellect supersedes those who work in similar sectors in the country. That is, unfortunately, simply not true. And it is not true by a long shot. There are smart people working outside Pakistan, and incredibly gifted people working in the country. I get to meet remarkably gifted students and scholars every time I visit the country, or get on a zoom call with colleagues, or advise a student. Some people move back from abroad and others move from within Pakistan to countries outside. This movement should not imply that the national brainpower is diminishing (especially with our population growth rate). Many of my colleagues at various institutions in Pakistan have no interest in working outside Pakistan, and continue to work with a sense of integrity and decency while being happy in Pakistan. Let me remind here as well that there are also plenty of not very bright (or decent) people outside the country. There is a sizeable portion of expats (again personal experience!) who work without a sense of honesty and moral fortitude, just as there are in any other country.

The saviour – as Tolstoy would argue – is not a single person. It is us, and people around us. Perhaps if we look around, rather than look above in high offices, we may find people whose values, decency and dignity is what we have been looking for all along.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 5^th, 2022.

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