Pakistanis under rubble: here and there

Pakistan, born against many odds, has survived despite incomprehensible antagonisms over seventy-eight years of independence — no trifling triumph. Those who enabled this survival were mostly gumnam sipahi (unsung soldiers) or people who faced frightful fates. Although the country has changed, with East Pakistan no longer hers and Karachi no longer her capital, Pakistan continues to make strides in many fields, from fashion and entertainment to nuclear capability.

Marka-e-Haq (battle of truth) heightens the joy of this year's 14th August. Pakistanis' ability to create memes in the middle of a war is admirable, but as a medical doctor I get concerned too. TV channels have convinced us that all of us are equal, and even the masses who continue to suffer (perhaps without realisation) from the impact of social injustices, erased histories and moral bankruptcy, celebrate jashn. Sadly, Nature has its own laws. The criminal silence of the elite segment of civil society, who cannot go beyond fancy titles and slogans and apple-polishing those in power to secure a slot in foreign trips, and the criminal negligence of successive governments in responding to the impact of climate change, are taking their toll.

While I write these lines, Buner is facing catastrophe, and so are many other areas of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa, while the flood affectees of Sindh have been reduced to passive recipients of a housing scheme that should have been their right in the first place. I am deliberately avoiding statistics related to the human face of such crises, because apparently millions of out-of-school children, people living below the poverty line, and the scale of bureaucratic complacency have rarely made anybody feel guilty. The nation is being fed with certain narratives and good ones are rewarded accordingly. From the Nobel Peace Prize to civil awards in our country, there are rarely any undisputed recipients — and this piece is not about the latest ironic awards.

I am infuriated that mainstream media largely continues business as usual. There is no emergency telethon, no dashboards, and no actions required in emergencies of this extent. While a large population lies under the real rubble in present-day Pakistan, another group is buried under the rubble of erased history. If anyone is in reflective mode yet once again, they must notice the omission of those 250,000-300,000 shunned Pakistanis still stranded in Bangladesh from any official statement or ceremony.

There are inequalities everywhere in Pakistan — from Gilgit-Baltistan to Islamabad Capital Territory, from Turbat to Thar, from Bajaur to Burewala — and no human misery must be trivialised. Yet with a heavy heart I am mentioning this particular issue, as it is the most despised and deserted one. Others at least make it into headlines, hashtags, or academic arguments. The stranded Pakistanis? They are excluded and erased. And here I stand, a lone advocate, raising what no media giant, no human rights darling, no "hero/shero" journalist dares to raise. Nobody is interested in the fate of the inhabitants of "Geneva Camp" in Dhaka, who are facing another calamity created by land mafias and will eventually be evicted. They were never counted, so nobody will notice their disappearance.

My claim can be dismissed. But contemplate who gets attention, and what content gets published — certainly not the one I have been conveying for the last 15 years or so.

The dominant narrative in our media and academia has been consistent: talk of 1971 is permitted and endorsed only as a one-sided "Bengali genocide" story — a story that too often becomes a suitable style to slander Pakistan. Sympathy flows only in one direction. But where is the truth and reconciliation? Where is the recognition of the Biharis and other non-Bengalis who stood by Pakistan, only to have their lives, properties and heritage destroyed in the liberation war of anti-Pakistan Bengali Mukti Bahnis?

A new political bloc, China-Pakistan-Bangladesh, is in the making. Sustainable friendship between Pakistan and Bangladesh is not possible without reconciliation, and the latter means admitting inconvenient truths and taking actions.

The reconciliation measures involve both governments, as I have written many times before. Bangladesh must show remorse for the genocide of pro-Pakistanis and for rendering them stateless. Pakistan must complete the unfinished repatriation of those still stranded, as it did for about 170,000 people between 1974 and 1982. And yes, their return can and must be carried out without threatening Sindh's demography through a fair, federated resettlement approach. But here is where my helpless anger sharpens: MQM. Every version of this party has been part of governments in Sindh or at the Federal level. And yet they never made the repatriation of these Pakistanis a priority. They never sought a grand dialogue with Sindhi nationalists for harmony. They never pressured other provincial governments to share resettlement responsibility. Empty slogans, no action. And then the duplicity of our celebrated media and human rights champions! They boost their voices for Balochistan (and yes, Balochistan deserves justice) but why? Because it gives them international appreciation, invitation to global conferences, foreign fellowships. Yet for the stranded Pakistanis, they remain muted. Not one prime-time debate, not one award-winning documentary. Hush. Hush. Hush.

So here I am, in monologue. A lone rebel, perhaps, shouting into the void. With no audience, no trending hashtag, no solidarity march. I thank The Express Tribune for occasionally publishing my agony but I know I am looking for justice in an unfair world. After all, even the live-streamed genocide in Gaza has refused to move the hearts and heads of those who matter.

And yet, I remind myself: this is my role. As a peace activist. As an advocate for the forgotten. To speak, even when no one listens. To demand, even when no one cares. Remember, even if the nation forgets.

Because silence is support. And I will not be complicit.