(Image Source: Britannica)
Nishan-e-Imtiaz: Honour, Heir, and the Hard Road Ahead
Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari’s award marks a diplomatic achievement — but the real test lies in proving it is the start of substance, not the peak of privilege.
On Independence Day, amid the gleam of medals and the rustle of protocol, one moment drew every camera: President Asif Ali Zardari fastening the Nishan-e-Imtiaz to his son Bilawal’s chest. A father’s pride? Certainly. A head of state honouring a former foreign minister? Absolutely. A symbol heavy with political theatre? Without question.
The award recognises Bilawal’s diplomatic efforts in Western capitals after Indian aggression earlier this year. He spoke for Pakistan when it mattered, and by most accounts, spoke well. For a nation too often spoken for rather than listened to, that counts.
But in Pakistan, recognition and privilege often travel together. The Bhutto name — part legacy, part passport — opens doors that most citizens will never even knock on. This does not diminish Bilawal’s contribution, but it does remind us that some races begin with a head start.
The Nishan-e-Imtiaz is not a keepsake; it is a public investment in the promise of more to come. And here lies the challenge. Foreign policy finesse is welcome, but the crises that truly define Pakistan — economic fragility, institutional corrosion, deep social inequities — demand a leadership marathon, not a diplomatic sprint.
History is filled with early-laurelled figures whose greatest moment was also their last. Bilawal has the opportunity, and perhaps the duty, to avoid that fate. The medal should be a comma, not a full stop — the first line of a chapter that tackles the country’s hardest truths, including the peril of inherited politics.
For now, the medal shines. But in politics, lustre is fleeting. The applause will fade, the cameras will leave, and then the real work — and the real test — begins.
