Religion and culture are both some of the closely held belief systems for most of the population of the country of Pakistan. Most people identify themselves through the lens of these abstract ideals, as a Punjabi, a Pashtun, a Baloch, a Sindhi, a Balti, and above all a Muslim. These spheres of identity give a coherent sense of meaning to the individual and clearly establish their role and image in society as a member of such a class. But what happens when the principles of one group end up in a clash with the principles of another? It is just such a problem that the average Pakistani citizen is faced with from the onset of our independence as a separate state. When Quaid-i-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah uttered the famous words:
“We are now all Pakistanis, not Balochis, Pathans, Sindhis, Bengalis, Punjabis, and so on and as Pakistanis, we must feel, behave and act, and we should be proud to be known as Pakistanis and nothing else.” (Quetta, 15th June 1948).
Although this quote does not inculcate the position of religion as a source of inducing confusion and lack of a more nuanced identity, it does enable religion to have the ability to be used as the one unifying banner under which the entirety of the population is huddled and described in a simple, uniform manner. We do, however, find shreds of evidence of the groundwork being laid down for the use of religion as more of a dividing factor that keeps people away from their cultural roots and establishes a newfound order that we must now follow instead of the tenets that we have known our entire lives, what our communities are based on, what our lives have been so far before this. “In 1940, the historical Pakistan Resolution declared religious nationalism as the unifying force for the foundation of an independent state, setting the groundwork for religious intolerance” (The Asia Foundation, August 6th, 2014). Although this is more inclined towards the religious intolerance directed towards other religious minorities that are also present in the state of Pakistan, it opens our perspectives to a new narrative: the nationalistic tendencies that were at first attributed to one’s culture, namely one’s heritage, is now replaced with a religious nationalism that is even more demanding and stern than its previous counterpart.
Culture, as we all know, is something that is deeply ingrained in the psyche of the individual born into it. The ethics, the mythos, the language, the essence itself is ever-present in the blood of the individual who is a part of that culture. Now when that same individual is faced with the problem of having religion be superior to that culture, he is in a moral dilemma. On the one hand is his heritage, his nature in a sense. While on the other he has his religious identity and he is asked to subscribe to the religious identity as his superior mode of being known. Basically, in a clash of culture and religion, he is forced to opt for something that is not even really his, to begin with, and he is thrown into an existential crisis. When we look at our history, just a couple of years before Muhammad bin Qasim fatefully arrived at the shores of Sindh, the overwhelming majority of the population here was either pagan, Hindu (which is also a pagan religion), or Buddhist, the culture of each of the region embodying the principles of those religious ideologies as well. For example, the Gandharan civilization was founded almost exclusively on the Buddhist doctrine, of birth and reincarnation, equality, social justice, and of peace and stability. When you contrast this to the Muslims who came here from the Turkish and Persian empires, they brought along with them conquest, pillaging, conflict, anger, hate (especially of conflicting religious doctrines), as well as their religion of Islam.
Coming to the point at hand, we are faced today with the same dilemma that our ancestors were faced with back when Islam was first introduced in this sub-continent: Of giving up our heritage in face of the new doctrine of Islam. This spells a slew of problems for the majority of the people here who value their cultural heritage to an almost faulty degree, and who would much rather forego their religion if it was to interfere with their age-old cultural values. Thus, we are faced with the main question of our identity: Are we Muslims first, or members of our respective cultures first? “The answer today is Muslims. I once conducted a TV debate in 2006 with an audience, and those who said they were Muslim first, won by a 90 percent count”. Regardless of this prevailing thought among people regarding their identities, the overwhelming majority of the modern urban sector is losing the Islamic moral code “In times of rapid cultural change, the balance between material and non-material aspects of cultures breaks down. In Pakistan, something more is happening. Its non-material culture is not only lagging but is actively moving towards orthodox Islamic mores. Here lies the dilemma: Pakistan’s material culture is modernizing and non-material culture is Islamizing. The result is that the values and norms that we espouse, offer little guidance for the behaviors necessitated by our material and urban ways of living. We are in a state of moral conflict”.
So, in the end, what do we choose? Not out of a sense of belonging or responsibility, but for basic growth and development. Not out of respect and of facilitating age-old traditions and religious ideologies, but something that propels us towards improvement, something that allows us to be better equipped for battling the challenges of the 21st century. And for all these things, we must understand that our identity is not something that should be dependent on historical values whether religious or cultural (although they have their own spheres of influence where they are still needed) but a newfound modern moral code that shapes our identities as citizens of the developed world.
The writer is currently studying at International Islamic University Islamabad (IIUI)
