PAKISTAN was achieved after sacrifices of a magnitude that still stir the soul and a struggle whose tirelessness remains an enduring lesson. Millions crossed borders in those turbulent months, leaving behind ancestral homes, familial graves and the familiar soil of generations, so that a new homeland might rise where Muslims could live according to their faith and their free will. We stand now upon the threshold of the eighth decade of that hard-won independence. I, a Pakistani by birth and by conviction, have myself lived nearly fifty-eight years within the borders of this free land.
This country conferred upon me an identity that no foreign power could erase, furnished me with the means of an independent existence—schools in which to learn, roads upon which to travel, markets in which to earn my bread—bestowed a measure of respect in the eyes of the world and, in some degree, granted me a name among my fellows. Yet the question returns, quietly and persistently, like a debt long deferred; what have I given in return? Have I ever paused long enough, in the press of daily concerns, to weigh that debt with ho-nesty?
The same inquiry must be put, with equal seriousness and without partiality, to the institutions that were meant to serve as the pillars of the state and to the ru-lers and authorities who have held power through these eighty years. What ac-count can they render of their stewardship? Parliament was intended as the voice of the people; the courts as the guardians of justice; the civil service as the steady hand of administration; the universities as the nurseries of thought and character. Have these bodies discharged their duties with fidelity or have they at times become arenas of personal ambition, partisan calculation and the slow corrosion of public trust?
The rulers, who succeeded one another, whether civilian or military, received the same inheritance of soil, of people and of hope. What have they added to the national store of justice, of prosperity, of self-respect and of unity? The record is mixed and the gaps are painful to contemplate. Have we, as a people, ever undertaken a true reckoning of our collective performance—not the ritual of speeches on national days, but a sober examination of conscience? And if such an accounting was made, did it lead to any genuine reformation of our ways or did we merely resume the old habits once the anniversary had passed?
Pakistan possesses land rich in rivers and fertile plains, a people endowed with resilience and talent, and a strategic position of great consequence. Yet we con-tinue to wrestle with poverty, disorder, institutional imbalance and the tempta-tion to place private gain above the common good. Have we preserved or frit-tered away the sacred trust our ancestors placed in our hands? That trust de-manded vigilance against tyranny, honesty in public dealing, education in knowledge and character, and a readiness to place the welfare of the whole above the advantage of the few. Looking back across the decades, we are com-pelled to ask whether that demand has been met in full measure.
I do not exempt myself from this examination. For nearly six decades I have drawn from the well of national life—the protection of law, the opportunity to work and to speak, the simple privilege of calling myself a citizen of a free land. Have my contribution matched the gifts received? Have I laboured, in whatever sphere was allotted me, to strengthen rather than weaken the fabric of the repub-lic? Have I spoken truth when silence was easier, practised fairness when par-tiality promised profit and taught the rising generation that freedom is not a birthright to be consumed but a responsibility to be renewed? Honesty requires that each of us answer such questions in the solitude of his own heart, without the convenient shield of collective excuses or the comfortable habit of blaming those who came before.
Enough, then, of evasion. The hour has come for every citizen, high or low, in-cluding the writer of these lines, to conduct a personal audit. Let each examine what he has taken and what he has returned. Let the institutions examine their fidelity to the purposes for which they were created. Let those who hold authori-ty examine whether their decisions have served the enduring interests of the state or the fleeting interests of the moment. Only through such unsparing self-examination, followed by the hard work of reform, can the trust of the founders be renewed and the promise of Pakistan still be fulfilled for those who will inhe-rit what we leave behind.
—The writer is contributing columnist, based in Islamabad.
