In a world where national identity is an integral part nation’s governance, India stands as a fascinating enigma. This sprawling nation defies easy classification, straddling the line between the developed and developing worlds. While its economic structure showcases the hallmarks of developed nations, including a thriving service sector, India grapples with persistent issues of poverty and educational disparities often associated with developing countries. This intricate duality within India’s identity merits a closer examination, offering insights into the intricate dynamics of a nation poised on the brink of transformation.
The trajectory of India’s journey towards nationhood, when viewed through a theoretical lens, appears improbable. Unlike the conventional path charted by most Western nations, India didn’t follow the typical route from an agriculture-driven economy to the development of a robust manufacturing sector before making the leap into a service-driven economy. Instead, it vaulted from one end of the spectrum to the other, skipping intermediary stages. This unconventional path has given rise to a unique set of challenges in shaping India’s national identity.
A pivotal factor contributing to India’s distinct identity is the absence of a full-fledged industrial revolution. Unlike Western nations, India never fully developed the kind of social and civic resilience that characterizes more developed societies. This resilience is marked by the presence of strong trade unions closely tied to political parties, a burgeoning middle-class consciousness, and an unwavering commitment to sustainable development. India’s unique path, or rather its deviation from the norm, necessitated the forging of an identity distinct from the Western mold.
In stark contrast to India’s intricate journey, Pakistan’s evolution of identity followed a divergent path. While this topic deserves its own exploration, it’s crucial to grasp that India’s identity was always fluid. During the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s, as India witnessed the rise of a burgeoning middle class and increasing globalization, it began adopting more Western values. In contrast, Pakistan chose a different trajectory, distancing itself further from India.
While India was crafting its own unique identity, Pakistan increasingly leaned into the role of being India’s antithesis. Regardless of India’s trajectory and the events of 1971, steeped in identity crises and racial conflicts, Pakistan refused to acknowledge changing dynamics across the border.
Pakistan’s approach to culture and identity became increasingly polarized. Festivals like Basant and Holi, which celebrated the arrival of spring with vibrant colors and festivities, were outright banned in Pakistan. Even today, more liberal institutions in Pakistan face severe criticism for merely acknowledging the existence of such events. Anything remotely considered cultural in Pakistan was often hastily labeled as “Hindu” or “Indian,” despite the ironic fact that the very name “India” finds its origins in the Pakistani River Indus.
Recent news of India’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) with its radical and extreme agenda has garnered global attention. The BJP staunchly argues that it represents the true essence of India, prompting a critical examination of what “Indian” means today. The ongoing debate regarding whether India should change its name to “Bharat” has sparked discussions on racial and political implications. Yet, a question of significant interest to Pakistan emerges: what might this potential change mean for its own identity?
Pakistan’s national identity has, to a large extent, been constructed on the premise of being the perfect counterpoint to India. However, with India distancing itself from its once-embraced identity and even rejecting the label of simply “Indian,” perhaps Pakistan has an opportunity to revisit certain aspects of its own identity that may have been overshadowed in its quest for differentiation.
Being Pakistani should not inherently involve a rejection of being Indian. It’s crucial to recognize that we share the same roots and heritage as the people of ‘Bharat.’ Refusing to embrace our Indian connection is, in essence, a rejection of our own identity. It’s somewhat perplexing how we’ve reached a point where we shun anything even remotely connected to Indian culture. We should embrace our shared heritage, even if our neighbours decide that they want nothing to do with it.