Generalisation as policy

I grew up in a world where generalisations, and stereotypes, were common. People around me spoke about entire communities in broad brush strokes in a remarkably derogatory manner. People of a particular region were considered untrustworthy, another entire community was hospitable but not particularly intelligent, one particular group of people had no culture whatsoever, members of a particular religious minority were inherently unclean, those who worked in a particular institution were deemed incapable of understanding nuance or logic. The list was long. It did not quite bother me when I was young and knew little, and also because it was presented by those around me with an underlying sense of superiority. Since I was from the privileged class - Punjabi, Sunni and male - things were pretty good from my vantage point of view. Everyone else in the country had a lot of catching up to do.

Overtime, however, I recognised how deeply disturbing it was to see people close to me - who were otherwise quite educated and well-read resort to stereotypes that were racist and ignorant. I also learned, in due course as I read about our own history, that this affliction touched many in high offices as well. Ayub Khan's diary entries about those in East Pakistan are a case in point. In an entry on September 7th, 1967 he wrote: "God has been very unkind to us in giving the sort of neighbours and compatriots we have. We could not think of a worst combination. Hindus and Bengalis."

In graduate school, after 9/11, I realised that for many I was now 'the other' - defined by stereotypes, blanket statements and gross generalisations rooted in ignorance and prejudice. The ignorance was not simply of history or culture - it was also of statistics. It was also of extrapolation of a single incident or a data point or the actions of one individual to millions based on simplistic assumptions, including that everyone who looks the same acts the same, or that everyone who is from one particular country is identical in ideas, thoughts, behaviour and action. As I rewatched some movies that I had enjoyed before, or re-read some literature, I became a lot more sensitive to how people who looked like me, or came from the place that I called home, were depicted and described. There was a lot of disturbing stuff out there.

But not everyone was the same. I found friends and colleagues, from all kinds of backgrounds, who thought differently and helped me think differently as well. I would like to believe that things have changed in the last few decades and there are many signs to suggest that, but in my recent conversation with friends and loved ones, I am not convinced that the rate of change is as reassuring as I would have liked. Many in my circle believe that the recent policy on refugees in Pakistan is rightly guided because 'all of them are the same'. Some may say it explicitly, others may cover it in a veil of a more polite language, but underlying assumptions are rooted in generalisations and disturbing stereotypes. These generalisations extend to those who are very old, and those who are very young - those who came decades ago and those who were born in the country not long ago. It is particularly ironic that some of the same friends and colleagues who are deeply concerned about how western media and literature portrays us, and are (rightfully) unhappy about stereotypes that depict us as a homogeneous group that is not quite civilised, cultured, mature or thoughtful, are not at all troubled by how they think about refugees in the country, and are cheering policies that are going to put the refugees in harms way.

I recognise that policies need to be carefully designed. But the way to design them is to imagine how we would like to be treated and whether we should be on the other end, not build them on ideas that reflect years of stereotypes and generalisations.