The European Commission’s report on Pakistan under the GSP+ framework is neither unique nor the first of its kind. Europe keeps issuing reports and resolutions on Pakistan with remarkable regularity. The question is: what exactly is the problem? Where does it lie? And what has gone wrong?
Pakistan’s problem is certainly not that its case is weak or that it lacks evidence and arguments. Quite the contrary. Pakistan has a strong case, backed by solid facts. The real problem is that, in Europe, Pakistan’s case never really gets a hearing. The lingering arrogance of white superiority still shapes much of Europe’s outlook. Under the old notion of the White Man’s Burden, Europe drafts the charge sheet, hears the case, produces the evidence, cross-examines the accused and delivers the verdict, all by itself.
Europe has developed a fixed mindset when it comes to Pakistan. It is the complainant, the witness and the judge, all at the same time. That is the real problem. A narrative is first created about Pakistan. A molehill is turned into a mountain. Human rights and governance become the centrepiece of an entire narrative. Once that narrative is established, the verdict is already written. The West has convinced itself that it has the moral authority to sit in judgment over the rest of the world. It sees itself as the guardian of morality, the global watchdog and the final arbiter. It may point a finger at anyone, but no one is expected to point a finger back.
If terrorism is to be condemned as a universal principle, then those who finance it, justify it or provide it with political cover must be judged by the same standard, regardless of where they live or whose interests they happen to serve.
It is difficult to recall any meaningful discussion in Europe about Pakistan’s strengths. Whenever a report, a resolution or an official statement comes from Europe, it begins with an indictment of Pakistan and usually ends the same way. One day democracy is said to be under threat. The next day the concern is human rights. Then come minority rights. Then freedom of expression. These are all important issues. They deserve attention. If shortcomings exist, they should certainly be addressed. But is that the whole story of Pakistan?
Why is it that no one asks what it cost Pakistan to spend two decades fighting terrorism? Why is there so little discussion about the price Pakistan paid as a frontline state in the global war on terror? Thousands of soldiers laid down their lives. Thousands of civilians were killed. The economy lost billions of dollars. Investment dried up. Society was scarred. The country’s social fabric was shaken, and an entire generation grew up in the shadow of fear, insecurity and extremism. Yet these realities scarcely find a place in the dominant Western narrative.
Hardly anyone asks another obvious question. Why did Pakistan have to pay for wars that were conceived in Western capitals? What social damage did those wars inflict? How deeply did they alter Pakistan’s cultural fabric? What sacrifices were made to preserve internal security and national stability? These questions rarely appear even in the footnotes of Western reports.
Whenever Pakistan comes under the Western gaze, it is seen through a single prism. The country is reduced to a familiar list of allegations: human rights violations, insecure minorities, shrinking civic space and restrictions on freedom of expression. The issue is not that these subjects are discussed. They should be. The real question is why these are the only subjects that seem to matter.
This raises another question. How credible are many of these reports from an intellectual point of view? Are they genuinely the product of objective research, or are universally respected concepts such as democracy, human rights and minority protection increasingly being used as political instruments? Is the real purpose to uphold these values, or to use them as leverage against countries such as Pakistan?
There is another contradiction that deserves attention. Individuals linked to the Baluchistan Liberation Army often reappear in Europe as human rights activists. Those who promote the narrative of terrorist groups inside Pakistan are presented in European capitals as defenders of freedom of expression. Men accused of organising terrorist networks, facilitating attacks on soldiers and innocent civilians, burning public property and attacking trains find refuge in Europe. After leaving Pakistani families to mourn their dead, they live comfortably abroad, deliver lectures on human rights and are treated as credible voices on Pakistan. Their claims are then cited to build yet another charge sheet against Pakistan.
One is entitled to ask: why? And for how long?
Pakistan stood on the frontline in the fight against terrorism. Why, then, are Pakistan’s wanted terrorists often treated as honoured guests in the West? Why are they not recognised as terrorists? Are terrorists only those whom Europe chooses to call terrorists? Do those who murder Pakistanis somehow become political activists simply because their victims are Pakistanis? Why should there be two standards for the same crime?
Pakistan today faces another wave of terrorism emanating from Afghanistan. At the same time, networks operating abroad collect funds, shape opinion and present separatism as legitimate political activism. Would Europe remain equally silent if similar networks were working against one of its own states?
The issue is not that Europe criticises Pakistan. Every democracy has the right to criticise another. The real issue is consistency. If terrorism is to be condemned as a universal principle, then those who finance it, justify it or provide it with political cover must be judged by the same standard, regardless of where they live or whose interests they happen to serve.
The writer is a lawyer and author based in Islamabad. He tweets @m_asifmahmood