August 14: What Exactly Is Pakistan Celebrating?

After nearly eight decades of independence, perhaps Pakistan needs less celebration and more courage to ask one uncomfortable question. Every August 14, Pakistan disappears beneath green flags. Patriotic songs flood television screens. Politicians deliver the same recycled speeches about sacrifice and greatness. Military imagery dominates the airwaves, and the ruling elite once again congratulates itself for defending a nation it has repeatedly failed to build. After nearly eight decades of independence, perhaps Pakistan needs less celebration and more courage to ask one uncomfortable question: What exactly are we celebrating? A nation does not become great because its citizens wave flags, sing patriotic songs, display nuclear missiles or listen to politicians praise generals. Great nations are built through education, justice, strong institutions, intellectual freedom, equal citizenship and opportunity for the next generation. Look at the United States. America did not become the country it is today because its founders spent their time polishing the shoes of powerful men. The American founders were deeply imperfect human beings, and the country they created contained enormous contradictions. But they understood something fundamental: a republic had to be built around institutions and ideas larger than individual rulers. They debated the separation of powers. They argued about the limits of government. They created constitutional institutions designed to survive presidents, generals and political factions. They were thinking about the country future generations would inherit. Pakistan's rulers have spent far too much of the country's history thinking about something very different: Who controls Islamabad? Which general controls the system? Which politician has the establishment's blessing? Who becomes prime minister? Who gets removed? Who goes to prison? Who must bow before whom? That difference helps explain where the two countries eventually went. America gradually built universities, industries, scientific institutions, research centers and a political system in which leadership could change without the state itself collapsing. Pakistan repeatedly built personality cults. In Pakistan, sincere, intelligent and independent political leadership has too often been treated not as a national asset but as a threat to those already holding power. Civilian governments have been overthrown. Political leaders have been imprisoned, disqualified and exiled. An elected former prime minister was even sent to the gallows. Whether one supported that leader or opposed him is beside the point. What kind of political culture responds to independent civilian power with removal, imprisonment or even execution, and then lectures ordinary people about democracy and patriotism? Meanwhile, the country continues failing its children. Millions of Pakistani children remain outside the school system. Millions more sit inside classrooms receiving an education that often leaves them poorly prepared for science, technology, modern employment, critical thinking or competition in the global economy. This is not simply an education problem. It is a national emergency and a moral failure. If a country cannot educate its children, then what exactly is the purpose of the state? What is the meaning of nuclear weapons when a child cannot read? What is the value of military parades when young people cannot find decent schools? What exactly is being defended if millions of children are being denied the tools necessary to build their own futures? For a country with such an enormous young population, neglecting education is not merely incompetent policy. It is sabotaging the country's future. And the failure goes beyond education. What kind of “independence” is Pakistan celebrating when many religious minorities still struggle to enjoy the equal citizenship supposedly guaranteed to them? Christians, Hindus, Ahmadis and members of other minority communities have faced discrimination, intimidation, mob violence and unequal treatment. Among the most disturbing cases reported over the years are allegations involving underage Hindu and Christian girls who are abducted, sexually abused, forcibly converted and married, while frightened and impoverished families struggle against people with far greater social and political power. Think about what that means. A poor family loses a daughter and then must fight the very system that is supposed to protect her. A state that cannot protect a vulnerable child — regardless of whether she is Muslim, Hindu, Christian, Sikh or anything else — has no moral right to boast about national greatness. Pakistan cannot seriously describe itself as a successful Islamic republic, democratic republic or just society while vulnerable minorities fear the very institutions that are supposed to guarantee their security. A flag does not make minorities equal. A patriotic song does not protect a kidnapped girl. A nuclear missile does not provide justice to a terrified family. And a military parade cannot substitute for the rule of law. The real test of a nation is not how loudly the majority celebrates independence. It is how safely the weakest minority can live beneath that nation's flag. Pakistan certainly does not lack human talent. Its young people are intelligent, creative, ambitious and capable of competing anywhere in the world. What Pakistan lacks is a political system worthy of them. Generation after generation has been failed by military interference in politics, corrupt and incompetent civilian governments, dynastic political parties, feudal attitudes, weak institutions, religious extremism and an elite culture obsessed with preserving its own privileges. Instead of building world-class schools, universities, laboratories, research institutions and industries, enormous national energy is wasted on endless political warfare. Who will control Islamabad? Who will become army chief? Who is the establishment supporting today? Which politician has fallen out of favor? Who will be arrested next? Which political family will inherit another party? Who will appear on television tonight to explain why everything is somebody else's fault? This has created one of Pakistan's deepest political diseases: loyalty to powerful individuals is rewarded more generously than competence, integrity, intelligence or independence. Polishing the shoes of powerful leaders does not make Pakistan great. Polishing generals' boots does not make Pakistan great. Calling every army chief a national savior does not make Pakistan great. Allowing politicians to behave like hereditary princes does not make Pakistan great. Wrapping television studios in green does not make Pakistan great. Putting flags on cars for a few days in August does not make Pakistan great. And screaming “Pakistan Zindabad” louder than everybody else certainly does not make Pakistan great. Building a country worth living in makes a nation great. A genuinely successful Pakistan would guarantee every child a decent education — whether that child was born in Lahore, Karachi, Peshawar, Quetta, Thar, interior Sindh, rural Punjab, Balochistan or the mountains of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. The daughter of a laborer should have the same right to education and justice as the daughter of a general, judge, bureaucrat, industrialist or politician. A Hindu child should belong to Pakistan just as completely as a Muslim child. A Christian family should not need powerful connections to receive justice. An Ahmadi should not have to prove loyalty to the country simply because of his or her religious beliefs. A great Pakistan would teach young people to question authority rather than worship it. It would produce scientists instead of conspiracy theorists. Researchers instead of propagandists. Entrepreneurs instead of political flatterers. Teachers instead of personality cults. Independent thinkers instead of obedient subjects. Citizens instead of followers. One of the great lessons of America's founding was that a republic could not permanently depend upon one supposedly indispensable man. Institutions had to be stronger than individuals. Pakistan has still not fully learned that lesson. Every few years another politician arrives promising salvation. Another general is presented as the guardian of national destiny. Another political family tells Pakistan that leadership somehow belongs to its bloodline. Another television commentator explains why questioning powerful institutions is supposedly dangerous for the country. And ordinary Pakistanis are expected to applaud. That is not nation-building. That is keeping a population politically immature so that the same small circles can continue rotating through positions of power. True independence should mean far more than possessing a flag, an anthem, a nuclear arsenal and a seat at the United Nations. Independence should mean: Freedom from ignorance. Freedom from poverty. Freedom from feudalism. Freedom from religious persecution. Freedom from military domination of civilian politics. Freedom from dynastic entitlement. Freedom from political boot-polishing. Freedom to criticize powerful institutions. Freedom to think. Freedom to question. And above all, the freedom of every child to imagine a future better than the life into which he or she was born. That is why August 14 should not merely be a celebration. It should be a national day of self-examination. Pakistan does not need another generation shouting that Pakistan is already great. Pakistan needs a generation angry enough, educated enough and courageous enough to ask why, after nearly eighty years, millions of children still lack proper education, minorities still struggle for equal protection, ordinary people still fear powerful institutions and young people increasingly wonder whether their best future lies somewhere outside Pakistan. Because greatness cannot be declared from a television studio. It cannot be manufactured by propaganda departments. It cannot be produced by military parades. It cannot be printed on a flag. And it cannot be shouted into existence. Greatness has to be built. America's founders helped create institutions that later generations could strengthen, reform and expand. Pakistan's ruling classes have too often protected their own power while demanding patriotism, obedience and sacrifice from everyone beneath them. So before another August 14 disappears beneath flags, songs and speeches, Pakistan should ask itself a brutally simple question: What kind of country are we leaving to the next generation? Because a nation that cannot educate its children, protect its minorities, defend the weak from the powerful and allow its citizens to challenge authority has little reason to congratulate itself. A country becomes worthy of celebration only when the freedom represented by its flag can actually be felt in the lives of its people. That is the independence Pakistan should be fighting for.