A friend of mine of Pakistani origin is well settled in USA . He lives in a nice part of Atlanta , away from ghetto-style Pakistani immigrant communities. During his recent visit to Pakistan with his family, I asked his eight-year-old American-born son what he thought of the country. The kid’s reply was quite interesting. He said, “It’s alright, except that there are too many Pakistanis here!”

I do not know for sure if the kid was commenting on our tremendous population growth, or the collective behaviour that has earned us the derogatory nickname, ‘Pakis,’ fondly used by foreigners in their private conversations.

Imagine how this part of the world would have been without any Pakistanis living here. Step back and take the historical perspective—for centuries, this part of the world had been a magnet for people of all races and cultures, from lands near and far. Now the only ones eager to arrive on this soil are either expatriates who rush back after their gift-distribution is over, or the jihadis on a mission to covert us to their cults.

Imagine what this land would look like if the English had decided to stay on here permanently, as they did in the USA , Canada , Australia and New Zealand .

Better yet, imagine if Zionists had staked their claim, soon after WWII, with a concocted story of the Nazis moving the river Nile here and renaming it the Indus; if that had happened, a handful of Israelistanis would routinely be winning Nobel prizes in scientific and literary fields, control international commerce and, best of all, scare our neighbours stiff. The UN would half-heartedly pass resolutions to limit Israelistani settlements near Srinagar and Delhi . We wouldn’t be the bad guys anymore.

Imagine that we had begun to evolve from day one into a neutral nation like the Scandinavians or the Swiss; civilized and peaceful, the envy of the world.

Imagine us having no regular military. Instead, every adult is conscripted and summoned in times of crises. Of course, no country would dare take on a fighting force of 170 million. The billions of rupees saved every year would be utilized for the common good of the citizenry and we could even afford a welfare system.

Imagine the laws made simpler and a bureaucracy without discretionary powers. Then ‘corruption’ wouldn’t be part of our nation’s vernacular.

Imagine the political leadership made up of statesmen rather than tried and tested ‘promise peddlers’ who only look good when in opposition. One wishes they would adhere to the noble principles of democracy: criticize but don’t destabilize the government. Protest marches would remain protest marches rather than urban battlefields of anarchy.

Imagine the judiciary being independent and actually judicious at all levels, and not limited to just one solitary figure. Black-coated ‘angels’ would be debarred and termed as ‘bats’ by their association for taking up cases of criminals to make money.

Imagine citizens’ confidence in courts of law if we routinely had judges like Cornelius, Keyani, Samdani, Durab Patel and Bhagwan Das!

Imagine the Umma having no sects but a solid belief in one interpretation of the faith and giving individuals the freedom to their personal inclinations. We’d go to mosques to pray while communities would take care of the sacred areas. There would be no hegemony of an individual or a family over a place of worship.

Imagine we are the chosen few selected from humanity by the Almighty to gain a sneak preview of what hell will be like. We share this privilege with some other Islamic countries like Sudan , Somalia and Bangladesh as well. Despair not—the rise of the Taliban ensures that the Islamic world will soon turn into paradise like Afghanistan .

Let’s stop imagining and view ourselves patriotically. The fact is that we are quite civil and decent—at least, at the individual level. It is just our collective behaviour as a nation, viewed through a prejudicial foreign lens, which projects a flawed picture.

In fact, we are blessed to be who we are, rather than infidels like Canadians, Japanese, Germans or Chinese. We may not win medals at the Olympics but the universal recognition of our country being ‘the most dangerous in the world to live in’ is no mean achievement either. It took years of toil and bloodshed, with a little help from our brethren in faith, to achieve this fête.

We endeavour to project our image as good Muslims with numerous mosques in every locality, bearded males, ninja-veiled females, and pious remarks. Daily vocabulary and everyday activities are peppered with bismillahs and mashallahs, lending Allah’s blessings to any false utterances we may make, and preventing the evil eye from jinxing our ill-gotten gains. We firmly believe that rituals exonerate us from dishonesty and other abhorrent daily dealings. That, to some, is mere fallacy, an illusion we have created to dupe ourselves.

We may appear in a state of chaos to an occasional visitor who is accustomed to living on the other side of the globe. But nothing surprises or bothers us of all that has been going on since the birth of the nation. It is just a matter of getting used to things and enjoying the comical side of events as they unfold. A cruel adage comes to mind that explains our national attitude of nonchalance: “If you are being raped and your shouting will bring in no help, lie back and enjoy the act.”

It is not really a bad place to live, provided you are well connected with the bureaucracy, well versed with local ways of getting rich quick, and been blessed with having no moral conscience. The cost of living to an academic may appear sky high compared to the average daily wage.

However, that is only one side of the picture. The positive aspect of that is your ability to hire household help for an entire month equal to what you paid for a decent meal abroad. Abroad, you were just an ordinary citizen merged in the crowd. Nobody noticed you unless you had a flowing beard, wore an Islamic dress in the FATA style, walked with your belly thrust forward and was followed by your burqa-clad wife carrying an infant as well as all the grocery bags. Here, you give off an aura of royalty, not only for your cheaply hired battery of servants but also for the mini-fortress your house looks like with its high walls, tall, iron gates and armed guards.

As for the poor, who cares! It’s in their divine fate to have been born poor, living in poverty and dying of starvation. We, the good Muslims, do not believe in interfering with the designs of Nature, particularly since it is not affecting our families. The belief commands that we accept their poverty as the will of God, and we do so solemnly. Pakistan, Zindabad.