our elders deserve

Our elders deserve better than mockery

I have been watching this whole Syed Muhammad Ahmed and Fahad Sheikh episode play out for days now. Something about it will not leave my mind. Not the scandal part. Not the apology part. The part where an older actor finally said, enough, someone is treating me poorly, and I am not going to stay quiet about it.

That takes courage. Most people in his position and age would have swallowed the insult and moved on. He did not. He described how a younger colleague poked fun at his baldness, his height, his years in the profession, things that make him who he is. And when a federal minister stepped in and suggested a mentorship program so senior actors could guide the younger lot, I found myself nodding along. What a simple, decent idea.

But here is what really struck me. This same disease, and I do mean disease, is eating away at another profession I know far better than showbiz. I mean journalism.

I do not say this lightly. Every other day, I watch our own colleagues, people who work in the same profession as me, make fun of our elder journalists. Senior reporters who spent decades building this field, who broke stories when there was no social media to amplify them, who trained half the newsroom without ever asking for credit, these people now get mocked online. If a television channel calls someone a senior journalist, a certain crowd pounces immediately. They roll their eyes. They make jokes. They act as if age and experience are things to be embarrassed about, rather than things to be respected.

I want to be fair here. Every journalist has the right to hold an ideology. I believe that with my whole heart. Disagreement is healthy. A newsroom full of people who think alike produces boring, lazy journalism. I have no complaint against anyone who looks at the news differently than I do.

My complaint is about the tools some young journalists use to express that disagreement. Instead of writing a thoughtful counterargument, instead of picking apart an idea with facts and logic, they reach for personal insults. They mock a senior’s age. They mock his voice, his mannerisms, his old fashioned turns of phrase. This is not disagreement. This is low intellect wearing the mask of wit.

I have seen young reporters who cannot form three coherent sentences about a policy issue, yet they can produce an entire thread mocking a veteran’s appearance within minutes. That imbalance tells you everything. When you lack the words to counter an argument, you attack the person instead. It is the oldest trick in the book, and it is a lazy one.

Bushra Ansari said something in this whole controversy that stuck with me too. She said mistakes happen, tongues slip, and when someone apologises, we should accept it and move forward. I agree with her, mostly. Forgiveness matters. Nobody should lose their career over a single lapse in judgment. But forgiveness for a mistake is different from tolerating a pattern. If the mockery becomes routine, if senior professionals become an easy punchline every single week, then something in our culture needs fixing, not just the individual joke.

I keep thinking about Syed Muhammad Ahmed’s words. He said he stayed quiet before because he knew a phone camera could turn any reaction into a headline. That fear alone tells you how normal this kind of disrespect has become. He finally spoke, and people listened. Good.

I hope people in newsrooms find their own version of that moment soon. I hope young reporters learn to challenge ideas without demeaning the people who hold them. Our senior colleagues gave this profession its backbone. The least we owe them is an argument built on reason, not ridicule.

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Missile and drone exchanges reached Saudi cities, unsettling a region that had spent years trying to de-escalate after the 2015 nuclear deal’s collapse.   Pakistan, one of the few states with working channels to both Washington and Tehran, stepped into the gap. Sharif’s government hosted preliminary contacts that produced the so-called Islamabad Memorandum, under which Iran signalled it would not pursue nuclear weapons  a pledge it had already made under the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty and the 2015 accord  in exchange for a mechanism allowing it to dilute stockpiles of highly enriched uranium. Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian later thanked Islamabad for its “constructive engagement” in securing a ceasefire and agreed to send negotiators to further talks in the Pakistani capital. Analysts at the Washington-based Stimson Center have noted that Munir personally staked considerable political capital on the diplomacy, given how easily it could have collapsed.       The Makkah pact   That mediating role fed directly into last week’s agreement. Saudi Arabia, repeatedly struck during the war by Iranian missiles and by Tehran-aligned forces in Yemen and Iraq, had already signed a bilateral defence pact with Pakistan in September 2025  struck, notably, just over a week after an Israeli strike on Hamas negotiators in Doha rattled Gulf capitals’ confidence in American security guarantees. The Makkah agreement extends that arrangement into a trilateral pact with Turkey, declaring that an armed attack on any one of the three signatories will be treated as an attack on all.   Pakistani officials describe the pact as purely defensive. Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar said this week it was “not directed against any country” and remained open to other regional states. President Asif Ali Zardari called it a reflection of “shared resolve for peace and security,” while Sharif credited Munir’s “tireless efforts” in securing an arrangement he said had been years in the making. For Riyadh and Ankara, the pact offers a hedge against dependence on any single outside power at a moment when American commitments to the region look less certain than they once did. For Pakistan, it offers closer ties with two wealthy allies, a symbolic role as guardian of Islam’s holiest sites, and outsized influence for a country whose economy remains fragile.   Praise, and pointed scepticism   The agreement has been celebrated in much of Pakistan’s domestic media as evidence that the country’s leadership  civilian and military alike  is finally translating decades of geopolitical positioning into tangible strategic weight. Supporters point to a similar dynamic in May, when a brief but intense military confrontation with India ended within days, after which the government promoted Munir to the rare, largely ceremonial rank of Field Marshal, only the second officer in Pakistan’s history to hold it.   But that same promotion has drawn sharp criticism from analysts who see it as part of a broader consolidation of power by the military at the expense of elected institutions. Munir, appointed army chief in November 2022, has presided over a period in which  according to critics including jailed former prime minister Imran Khan’s supporters  courts, the media and Sharif’s own coalition have operated increasingly under military direction, a system some commentators have dubbed a “hybrid regime.” The Middle East Institute has described Munir’s elevation as “a thunderous declaration of the military’s unassailable supremacy,” while other analysts note that his growing role in foreign and economic policy  well beyond the traditional remit of an army chief  blurs the line between civilian governance and military command in a country with a long history of that line collapsing altogether.   What comes next   None of this diminishes the immediate diplomatic achievement: a ceasefire process that, however fragile, has held; a new pact that binds three influential Muslim-majority states more closely together; and a Pakistan that finds itself, for now, indispensable to great-power diplomacy in a region convulsed by war. Whether that translates into durable stability  for the Gulf, for the broader Middle East, or for Pakistan’s own democratic institutions  remains an open question. The coming months, as the Islamabad talks resume and the Makkah pact’s practical implications become clearer, will test whether this new era represents a genuine diplomatic breakthrough or a further tightening of military control dressed in the language of strategic necessity.

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