Let us have activism run in our blood not in nine-to-five NGO jobs
The growing number of problems faced by Pakistan has created this new brand of ‘activism’, giving many people the chance to portray themselves as saviours and heroes.
The sensationalised breaking news presented by our media agencies gets viewers momentarily charged to do something — to rid themselves of guilt or of that karmic fear that they may experience a similar situation.
But to avoid such undesirable consequences, the free market has responded to our distress. Designer lawns, food masala sellers and soft drink companies have started sending seemingly positive messages in their adverts. With this, our role as citizens has been confused with our role as consumers, and we have all but outsourced the duty of being a responsible Pakistani to those who can pay for a gift-packed badge ‘of awareness and responsibility. Our urge to become heroes gets satisfied by purchasing cola drinks that appropriate real life protests in their ads. We alter our purchasing decisions to feel that we are doing ‘something’ about our problems. But who are we really helping by buying brands with darker skin tone models in their ads? Who are we fooling by mimicking revolutions and merely making commercial ads and social media statuses out of them? Why do we not have a problem with this? And this brand of social responsibility, charity and activism is in full swing during the great summer sales that suddenly make everything look affordable and useful.
Protests are taking the shape of bargains. If you come to the protest I organise, I will return the favour and come to the one you organise. It isn’t about the issue anymore, but about who is holding the event. And it is slowly coming to the point where people take a stand only as long as there is appreciation — that kick, that particular number of ‘likes’, that seat ‘reserved’ for them in the front row of award ceremonies and that name they earn and later cash on.
My major contention with this form of charity and activism is the breach of trust and integrity that occurs with such an expression of help. When we help the homeless, the widowed and the orphaned and put their photographs on social media with captions like ho mera kaam gharibon ki himayat karna (may my life’s purpose be to help the poor), we strip the verse of its beauty and humility. We immediately set in motion the binary of the giver and receiver as superior and inferior. We sell grief, loss and disparity of those we claim to help in return for awards, likes and a badge on our sleeves. Think about Abdus Sattar Edhi’s selfless struggle for humanity for a moment!
Such a state-of-affairs also explains why inspite of private (elite) schools increasingly making community service compulsory, the divide in our society is not reducing. Because filling the gap is not what we seek. Let’s face it. All families who donate generously, pay their domestic staff even above the minimum wage, can they stand their staff speaking, feeling, standing, wearing or even smelling the same as them? Perhaps not.
As a humanities student, for me activism has a deeper and more meaningful and profound role in society. It requires of us to take our generosity a step further — to translate our donations into more viable and sustainable means of empowerment. And not just fitting a ‘me and my convenience’ shaped solution into the complex hole called Pakistan and its problems. Not becoming an unrecognisable voice of the silenced; instead hearing their voice of distress in their own language. Activism is empowerment— not illusion of empowering our own self and then expecting it to ‘trickle down’ to the lesser privileged.
I once reached out to a Christian neighborhood in Lahore after an attack at the Church there and initiated a community engagement programme. My effort was to ensure that we did not project our knowledge onto those we considered less knowledgeable and that we did not assume to understand their life better than them. So we asked the community how they wanted us to design the programme, involved them in problematising issues and finding solutions together. There were no self-proclaimed heroes or savours in the effort, just a group of concerned citizens trying to deal with harsh realities. Since then, many people have gone to the area for research and to help, but I have simply not seen a single resident feel bond of friendship with them. No friend, but many donors — how strange is our state of affairs.
I don’t call myself an activist. Far from it, I am only trying to tread that path where I can learn the language in which to express my concern, my help, my resistance, my love and my solidarity for a cause — a language that is not subsumed by imperial and colonial tendencies.
Perhaps, this is the kind of basic education we need to undertake as we become an increasingly desensitised nation, but also a nation that wants to help. Blaming our neighbouring country for all our problems has become our collective catharsis and we’ve found peace in putting all our faith in military courts.
So let us bring together our unique talents and our individuality on the table. Let us understand what it is to be a citizen. Let us not chain liberty into money making products. Let us have activism run in our blood not in nine-to-five NGO jobs. Let us not mix revolution and resistance with gift-packed soap and detergent powders. Let us not just weave our social work around award winning competitions. Finally, let us not disgrace the wonderful word and world of help and resistance.
The writer completed her undergraduate studies from LUMS in 2016 and was a Fellow at the Drew University programme on Religion and Conflict Resolution. She is the founding member of a youth led initiative called Hum Aahang that works on inter-faith dialogue, community engagement and religious diversity