Pakistan stands upon the soil of one of the world’s oldest continuous civilizations—Mehrgarh, dating back over 8,000 years, and later the urban marvels of Mohenjo-Daro and Harappa. These ancient cities flourished without signs of weapons or fortifications, hinting at a society that prized peace over conquest, community over coercion. Centuries later, the mystic verses of Sufi poets echoed across the Indus plains, teaching compassion, tolerance, and divine love beyond creed or caste. Islam, too, when it arrived, elevated the status of women and enshrined the rights of the marginalized. Ours is not a heritage of brutality or exclusion—it is one rooted in dignity, pluralism, and moral clarity. And yet, today, that very soil is stained by the blood of children beaten to death, women slain in the name of “honour,” and religious minorities hunted for their faith. What happened to that civilizational grace? Where did the soul of the republic vanish?
A Country That Still Punishes Its Children
Reports of children being beaten to death by madrassa teachers in Pakistan—for minor infractions such as absenteeism or failing to recite lessons—are disturbingly common. These are not isolated incidents but recurring symptoms of a deeper societal decay. The recent murder of a child by a religious teacher in Swat is not just a criminal act; it signals a moral collapse. And it is far from unprecedented. Across Pakistan, especially in religious seminaries and public schools, countless children are subjected to corporal punishment, verbal abuse, and psychological trauma. Some never make it out alive.
Where is the outrage? Where is the reform?
A Society That Normalizes Violence
This is the same country where:
- According to data from the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP), ‘honour’ killings remain a deeply entrenched and pervasive crime in Pakistan. Between January and November 2024 alone, at least 346 people—mostly women—were murdered under the pretext of preserving family 'honour', with Sindh and Punjab reporting the highest number of cases. These figures are not anomalies; they reflect a persistent culture of impunity and misogyny that continues to cost lives.
- Sanitation workers—often a Christian, from a community that makes up 80% of sanitation workers despite being just 2% of the population—continue to die in open sewers due to negligence and discrimination.
- Worship sites of religious minorities face repeated attacks, enabled by state inaction and laws that perpetuate impunity and exclusion.
- Journalists face arrests and censorship under PECA, eroding the free press essential to democratic accountability.
This is not just dysfunction. This is moral decay.
A Nation Adrift
Pakistan’s crises are manifold, but they are all rooted in one disease: the erosion of conscience.
- A hollow education system, where rote learning replaces critical thinking and violence substitutes for pedagogy. Millions of children, especially girls, remain out of school. Literacy is low, and drop-out rates soar by middle school.
- A broken justice system, where the poor languish in jails for years without trial while the rich are bailed out within hours.
- A bloated bureaucracy, where files gather dust and bribes open doors.
- A society addicted to outrage and apathy in equal measure, where hashtags trend for a day, and then all is forgotten.
It is not just a “brain drain.” It is a soul drain—the quiet departure of those who no longer believe change is possible.
What Must Be Done
Pakistan needs a reckoning. Not just political or economic reform—but an ethical revival.
- Zero tolerance for violence in all educational institutions, religious or secular. Corporal punishment must be criminalized and enforced, not just on paper but through public accountability and transparent oversight.
- Establish independent commissions to investigate honour killings, forced conversions, and abuse of minorities—backed by the full force of law.
- Revamp the curriculum to emphasize ethics, empathy, civic responsibility, and coexistence. Religious studies should teach humility, not hatred.
- End feudal administrative structures that treat citizens as subjects. Political dynasties and elite capture must be dismantled through genuine devolution and electoral reform.
- Protect journalists and whistleblowers as national assets, not enemies of the state. Democracy dies in darkness—and we are dangerously close.
- Invest in mental health, child protection, and teacher training. Schools must be sanctuaries, not slaughterhouses.
- Address gender disparity and child labor, through enforceable legislation and education campaigns at grassroots levels.
Climate Change Is No Longer a Future Threat
Pakistan faces an existential climate emergency. The 2022 floods, intensified by global warming and poor planning, displaced over 33 million people. Recent rains in cities like Rawalpindi have again exposed the failures of urban planning. Yet, little progress has been made in strengthening infrastructure, enforcing climate-resilient policies, or protecting vulnerable communities. Climate justice must become central to national reform—not an afterthought.
No Reform Without Individual Awakening
It is easy to blame the government, the mullah, or the military. But the rot runs deeper—into our classrooms, our homes, our pulpits, and our silences. Real reform does not begin in Islamabad; it begins in our hearts, in our habits, in our everyday choices.
We are not mere victims of a broken system—we are participants. Through our apathy, our prejudices, our quiet complicity, we have allowed injustice to take root. We tolerate violence when it suits us, ignore oppression when it spares us, and worship power while turning our backs on principle.
We must ask ourselves: Do we truly value human dignity, or only tribal loyalty? Do we seek justice, or merely revenge cloaked in self-righteousness? Are we brave enough to speak for the voiceless, even when it costs us comfort or reputation?
Until we change ourselves, no election, no revolution, no policy will save us.
The Soul of the Republic
Pakistan was not built to be a theocracy or a military outpost or a land of broken promises. It was a dream—of dignity, equality, and justice. That dream is not yet dead. But it is gasping for air.
Let us not wait for another child to die, another woman to be buried, or another place of worship to burn before we rediscover our conscience. For in the end, a nation without conscience is just geography—and we are perilously close to becoming a map drained of meaning.
