Clichés we use

CONVERSATIONS about Pakistan easily and comfortably slide into clichés. The phrase ‘land of the pure’ is a personal favourite. Different generations — from boomers all the way down to the millennials — are perhaps equally familiar with ‘Pakistan at a crossroads’. Used as a headline or caption, it can be comfortably deployed to describe the state of affairs within, regardless of the context — be it the time of the Cold War, or the post 9/11 world, or from democratic interludes to hybrid times. The guilt is not just of Pakistanis but also the rest of the world which sees the country through a fog of clichés. Within this hard country, or the most dangerous country in the world, are the leafy streets of Islamabad, the port city of Karachi and Lahore with its Mughal past. Politics is military-dominated, and people have a penchant for strongmen in uniform, while political parties are family enterprises. KP is known as the province of the warrior-like Pathans, and Balochistan is tribal. Sindh is feudal territory where generations of peasants have worshipped Sufis and the Bhuttos. While the descriptions may vary a bit, they all portray societies frozen in time where little has changed, politically and socially. Agreed that many of these clichés are the result of foreign coverage of a country that has been, for various reasons, open to the storytelling by others. But at this point, it is hard to say if the storytelling by others has shaped our thinking and analysis or vice-versa. Whatever the case, clichés now shape so much of opinion that even society at large has been oblivious to the changes taking place under their very noses. For instance, it took 20 years of an insurgency in Balochistan for most people to realise that the sardars were no longer in charge in the province; the cliché has yet to be abandoned in discussions and by those who want to control politics. Indeed, clichés are used not just to describe but also to define how the country’s politics is run. The latter continues to be dominated by dynasties; people are uneducated and don’t know how to vote for the right people — which is why democracy doesn’t work. For they don’t vote for ‘good’ people but for those who can help them with gali, mohallay ki siyasat, or local issues. Or they voted for personalities and cult leaders. The cliché might alter a bit here and there but the inability of the people to make the right choice doesn’t. It’s enough to try the patience of a saint. Or many among our stability-seeking saints. But the politicians have their own set of clichés, convinced that only their capability can save the country — be it the ability to make a deal, a road (or rather, many roads), or end corruption. No one else is good enough. To their credit, none of them think they can aspire to learn the art a rival may have mastered. With their one skill, they can save Pakistan, much like the heroes of yesteryear who wore shorts over skinny pants and worked alone to save the Metropolis or Gotham. But this is an old cliché — before Hollywood discovered that they could all be made to fly together to confront the bad guys. Others, too, view them through clichés — cults, populists, experienced politicians, deal makers. And then the favourite is about how all of them were born in the same nursery (of the green and brown kind). Or as the latest version in Urdu goes, they passed through the same gate, the point being that none of them is authentic or genuine enough. Till, of course, they suffer at the same hands. The cycle repeats itself each time — with a new Pygmalion; a new flower seller. And then come the clichés about how to fix this country. These, too, have not changed. In one of the clichés, the problem is always the older, more established politician. And their removal is the answer. Minus one at times, minus everyone at others. It was Bhutto back in the 1970s and Nawaz Sharif in the 1990s. And these days, it seems it’s Imran Khan. Another is to rid the country of ‘kruption’; so what if each such effort seems to have done little to stop the scourge, which is growing by leaps and bounds. It’s a cliché, not reality. But there is an even better one. The effort to ensure a better, truer democracy. And it is never the politicians who are interested in this cliché; others always have it on hand to help the people, and give them better leaders and a rosier future. Its name keeps changing but not the good intentions. Sometimes, it means partyless elections, sometimes empowered local governments, one unit or more provinces. Call a rose by any other name and all that. It is so familiar and yet so different. For the dream hasn’t changed even though the times have. So it appears the old system needs more than a reset. It needs an overhaul so powers are devolved and people are helped at their doorstep. And this time around, we don’t just need random educated, middle class people in power, but those who can be compared to say Sadiq Khan in London or Zohran Mamdani in New York. There was a time when Mustafa Kamal was what the people of Karachi (and beyond) deserved as nazim but now the aspiration is not as local as it was then. Times have changed — or have they, in the land of the pure, also known as Cliché-stan? The writer is a journalist. Published in Dawn, September 8th, 2026

Read full story on Dawn