The 4th Shusha Global Media Forum and Azerbaijan?…

Bio: Hamza Tareen is a student at LUMS, majoring in Political Science and with a keen interest in philosophy and theology.   Few individuals’ legacies are defined more by their peculiar life accounts than by their vast scholarly contributions. Majid Daryabadi is probably of that ilk. An exceptionally gifted child, raised in a deeply devout family, his life was in complete accord with the theological influences that enveloped him: from wearing the characteristic religious turban to being tutored in Quran and Arabic from the very early years. And, at the precocious age of thirteen, Daryabadi began penning polemical articles and essays aimed at defending Islamic doctrines—and refuting rival traditions. However, hardly anyone could have anticipated the drastic tempest that would soon ensue and shake Daryabadi to his core. Coming across the book titled The Elements of Social Science was the critical juncture in his life which struck at the very heart of his values. This work did not flagrantly castigate Islam or denounce any other religion; it assaulted something else: the underpinning social and moral frameworks which form the bedrock of society. Little wonder that Daryabadi, still a 16-year-old who had just finished his Matriculation, was disillusioned with the guiding theological foundations he had long cherished ‘when the claims and arguments of the book were in complete accord with libidinal urges’. This episode was the turning point in his life which estranged him from his beliefs and was the nascent emergence of a decade-long journey of doctrinaire atheism. Although his shift to skepticism was driven and cemented by encounters with the works of eminent atheists and philosophers, one thing particularly arrests attention and exposes the academic dishonesty present profusely in Western academia: the spurious claim that the citadel of their scholarship is erected upon objectivity and dispassionate ‘impartiality’. Daryabadi, in his autobiography, elaborates that ‘a poison ran through the lines’ of seemingly ‘objective’ and ‘scientific’ scholarship. In a remarkably furtive and implicit manner, the most profound religious convictions would be scoffed at and trampled underfoot. Two such illustrations are worth noting: a voluminous piece of psychology argued, targeting the blessed Prophet (PBUH), that it was possible for a man suffering from epilepsy to leave behind a great legacy. In another instance, the Prophet was depicted—reprehensibly and coarsely—in an artificially concocted image, which was merely the deplorable translation of West’s bias towards Islam. Daryabadi persisted in his skepticism of religion and would fiercely critique it through his various publications. But despite the outright repudiation, there was a concealed, but potent, bond with Islam, which did not wither away; when Samuel Zwemer, a Christian polemicist who had come to British India for a conference, began his critique of the religion, Daryabadi—by then an atheist—would offer his rejoinders in defense of the faith. The subtle and discreet traces of sacred convictions had survived the materialistic tumult. It was after a decade that Daryabadi would, slowly and gradually, experience a shift in trajectory. His voracious propensity to read, coupled with sheer curiosity, led him to scrutinize the works of semi-atheistic philosophers who had entertained spiritual dimensions and possibilities beyond the cold, materialistic realm. Subsequently, he delved into the study of Buddhism, Hinduism and theosophy. Something profound had changed. Seeds of belief had been sown—once again. Engaging with the spiritual aspects of the traditions led him to deliberate the possibility of the unseen. Taken aback by the profundity of insights and reflecting upon their perennial truths, Daryabadi was intrigued. His quest for the truth eventually led him to Mawlana Jalaluddin Rumi’s Masnavi—the classic fountain of spirituality. The exemplar of Tasavvuf left a lasting imprint on Daryabadi’s rationalist outlook, unfolded before him a new horizon, and imbued him with an acute consciousness of the divine. Rumi’s Masnavi uplifted him from the recesses of oblivion to the light of the sacred. An epiphany reverberated through his austerely skeptical frameworks: the expanse of truth was too wide to be captured by the empiricist. And then came the final ‘nail in the coffin of atheism and apostasy’ when Daryabadi once again ventured to open the divine book, now bestowed with the ability to perceive the truths contained therein. That translation of the holy book was rendered by Muhammad Ali Lahori, a member of the Ahmadiyya movement, and Daryabadi’s enduring gratitude to him was a reminder to the puritanical Muslims who refuse to see the value in the works of those they deem astray. A poignant pilgrimage to the former self followed thereafter, and Daryabadi pledged allegiance to the renowned Sufi master Shaykh Ashraf Ali Thanavi—his father’s prayers had been finally answered. He went on to author a multitude of books, with his magnum opus being the multi-volume exegesis of the Holy Quran, Tafsir-i-Majidi, and was ultimately etched into history as a towering Muslim scholar who contributed immensely to Islamic scholarship.

What happens when the misogynistic cultural mindset of men forces them to lock the women in  their community inside four brick walls and suddenly there are no women to harass and assault on the streets? Some may assume that now they may only assault their wives, sisters and daughters inside their homes, unfortunately that is far from the truth. This in contrast induces them to prey on adolescent boys who are young enough to have a feminine innocence installed in them.   In Afghanistan and many parts of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa in Pakistan, there is a horrendously horrific custom known as Bacha Bazi in which old men scout, groom and buy young boys from their families, or forcefully take the ones who are orphans on the run trying to survive. The literal meaning of Bacha Bazi translates into ‘Boy Play’ which is an illegal abuse normalized by the majority.   These underage boys possess soft features, hairless bodies and no voice. They are forced to wear clothes of women, often dresses and skirts. They are taught to dance, sing and to be painfully silent. This can be located and traced back to the poverty in these provinces where selling daughters and sons can be the only possible course of action to avoid starvation. Many documentaries have been filmed as well as the interviews of the culprits who are asked the possible reason of their disgusting misdoings to which they have only one answer – ‘it is our need’.   Another terrifying leisure activity is quite common among the truck drivers, however not much of the population possess any knowledge of it. The overwhelming majority of these drivers on the road for hours each day have an underage boy with them to use in ways not comprehensible to most. The district police, politicians and those in charge are extremely aware of this filth- yet they choose to blind themselves and no just action is ever taken. These men pollute this world with their abusive methods and turn the abused into the next abuser. It can be said that many of these rapists were in fact themselves hunted upon from a very young age.   People yearn for women rights every hour of the day- yet they somehow forget to raise their voices for these young boys who do not know what family, protection or a warm bed is. We point out the West of having billionaires who rape little children but we forget that our own country allows the same violations to be performed by ordinary low income men.   Imagine being born in this world, your mother died in childbirth and if alive is covered with bruises, your sisters were sold at the age of six so you could eat and now the money is running out and the only way to survive is for you to dance for older men in skirts so your younger siblings can go without starving. This is the reality of millions of young boys untold and unheard of.   Thousands of gatherings take place everyday where these young boys perform for their ‘owners’ no matter how tired, exhausted or embarrassed they may feel. Once they turn 18 and are no longer young enough to satisfy the technical needs of pedophiles, they are often employed with sustainable enough wages to teach the younger recruits on the tricks and methods of performing and satisfying. Hence the cycle repeats and a chain is formed.

Every 14 August, Pakistan awakens to the familiar colours of green and white. Flags appear on buildings, national songs fill the air, children dress in traditional colours, and speeches once again remind the nation of the sacrifices that accompanied independence. Yet Independence Day is not merely an occasion to celebrate the Pakistan we inherited; it is an opportunity to ask a more demanding question: What have we done with the Pakistan that was entrusted to us? On 14 August 1947, independence transformed millions of lives. Pakistan emerged from one of the most extraordinary political movements of the twentieth century, carrying the hopes of Muslims of the subcontinent for political security, social justice, dignity and the freedom to shape their collective future. Nearly eight decades later, the country possesses a substantial population, strategic importance, nuclear capability, a young generation, a resilient economy and a remarkable human resource. But the distance between Pakistan’s original aspirations and its contemporary realities remains a serious national question. The first mistake would be to interpret patriotism as silence about national shortcomings. Genuine patriotism requires the courage to identify weaknesses as well as the wisdom to recognise achievements. A country cannot strengthen itself by denying its problems. Nor can it progress through perpetual pessimism. Pakistan’s challenge in 2026 is therefore to move beyond both exaggerated self-congratulation and destructive cynicism. The political history of Pakistan demonstrates the consequences of institutional instability, confrontation and the excessive personalisation of politics. Governments have changed, political alliances have shifted, constitutions have been amended, and civilian and non-civilian institutions have repeatedly struggled over the appropriate boundaries of authority. The result has often been a political culture in which winning power becomes more important than strengthening institutions. This is particularly dangerous for a federation as diverse as Pakistan. Punjab, Sindh, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Balochistan, Gilgit-Baltistan and the regions of Azad Jammu and Kashmir possess distinct histories, cultures and political concerns. National unity cannot be imposed through administrative uniformity. It must be constructed through justice, representation, constitutionalism and an equitable distribution of opportunity. The recent political and social tensions surrounding Azad Jammu and Kashmir offer another reminder that national integration cannot depend exclusively upon slogans. Reports of violent protests, deaths and political grievances in the region demonstrate how quickly unresolved questions of representation, economic opportunity and political legitimacy can become matters of national concern. At the same time, the ongoing electoral process indicates that democratic participation remains an important mechanism through which political differences can be addressed. The lesson for Pakistan is broader than any particular political dispute: the federation becomes stronger when citizens believe that institutions listen to them. Religion presents another essential dimension of Pakistan’s identity. The country was created in the name of a political and social vision deeply connected with the religious consciousness of the Muslims of the subcontinent. But Islam cannot be reduced to national symbolism, political slogans or ceremonial references. Its deeper teachings demand justice, honesty, compassion, accountability, dignity and responsibility. The Qur’anic concept of Ummah is fundamentally connected with moral solidarity. It does not mean that differences disappear; rather, it teaches that human beings and communities are bound by principles of justice and mutual responsibility. The Qur’an repeatedly places justice at the centre of social life. Consequently, a religiously inspired Pakistan should not merely ask whether society looks Islamic from the outside. It should ask whether the weak receive justice, whether public resources are protected from corruption, whether the powerful are accountable, whether minorities live with dignity, and whether the poor have meaningful opportunities to improve their lives. Pakistan’s constitutional framework itself reflects this relationship between Islamic values and democratic citizenship. The Objectives Resolution, incorporated into the Constitution, describes democracy, freedom, equality, tolerance and social justice as principles to be observed, while also affirming the rights of minorities to freely profess and practise their religions and develop their cultures. This constitutional balance is important because religious identity and citizenship should not be presented as competing ideas. A confident Islamic state does not need discrimination to demonstrate its faith. It demonstrates its moral strength through justice. Protection of minorities is not a concession to another culture; it is part of the constitutional and ethical responsibility of the state. Pakistan’s social crisis, meanwhile, is perhaps more complicated than its political crisis. Millions of Pakistanis continue to demonstrate extraordinary resilience, entrepreneurship and generosity. Pakistani professionals have achieved distinction around the world, while ordinary citizens routinely support relatives, neighbours and communities in times of hardship. Yet social inequality, unemployment, educational disparities, population pressure, inflationary pressures and unequal access to healthcare continue to limit the potential of a large part of the population. The most important national resource is not the country’s geography, minerals or strategic position. It is its people. A nation with a young population cannot afford an education system that merely produces certificates. Pakistan needs education that produces critical thinkers, scientists, entrepreneurs, skilled workers, ethical professionals and responsible citizens. Artificial intelligence is rapidly transforming economies and professions, making it even more urgent for Pakistan to reform its educational priorities rather than simply expand enrolment. The same principle applies to women and young people. A country cannot speak convincingly about development while large sections of its human capital remain underutilised. Pakistan’s future competitiveness will depend increasingly upon the quality of its education, digital capacity, scientific research, vocational training and entrepreneurial ecosystem. Independence also has an international dimension. Pakistan’s geography has historically placed it at the intersection of major geopolitical interests. Its relationship with China, Saudi Arabia, Türkiye, the Gulf states, the United States, Europe, Afghanistan and other regional partners reflects the complexity of its strategic environment. But the strongest foreign policy is ultimately built upon domestic strength. Economic stability, political credibility, social cohesion and institutional continuity provide a stronger foundation for diplomacy than dependence upon temporary geopolitical alignments. National security, therefore, should be understood in a broader sense. A secure Pakistan is not merely one with strong borders and capable armed forces. It is also a Pakistan where a child can

   For as long as the world can recall, the United States have controllably preserved their seat as the strongest one in the council of global superpowers- defeating the Nazis, USSR and setting their currency as the medium of trade and exchange. However, in recent events this strong hold seems to have become weakened as on the other side of the world a new power emerges, a power that the United States considers the biggest threat to their existence- the new super power China.   Ironically, China was still developing and submerged in poverty a few decades ago holding up its communist views and rejecting the new capitalist western world. Though they were not completely cut off on giving this new ideology a try, opening their first economic zone in Shenzhen in 1980 to pursue foreign investments and market based economic trade. Soon enough they realized the potential it had and once they started, they were quite impossible to stop.   It was in the 2010s that China had found numerous ways to include itself in the exporting and manufacturing industry. Every household was filled with items labeled “made in China”, however they were referred to as a low quality item hence cheaper. China nevertheless learnt, and they were fast learners. They knew that in a world dominated and feared by the United States they would have to have a friendlier approach. They started helping countries including Pakistan and many African nations with infrastructure projects in exchange for leverage and usage of their resources.   On the outside it seemed like a friendly deal, a helpful one even, but China knew that this was their way into achieving ultimate domination. The US was watching this very closely knowing very well what kind of abomination was taking place in front of their eyes, yet they could only spread propaganda about it, calling it “Debt trap Diplomacy” and “Predatory Lending”. The world did not give much thought since theyfinally had someone helping them without any threats and sanctions which they had experienced harshly in the past with the United States .   Uptil now, the USA still had the upper hand on oil and currency domination which was soon to get shaken up as well. Bill Clinton had put a ban on trading Iranian oil in his regime and so was done to Russia after they invaded Ukraine, meaning almost the whole world trading in US dollars could not buy Russian and Iranian oil.  Few of the other powerful currencies that could trade without the US dollar are euro, Japanese yen and Chinese yuan. Thus only China had the willingness to buy the sanctioned oil in their currency under different company names, trade routes which the US would find it difficult to identify and stop.   The United States has had  a history of having these geographical threats against major countries in order to secure their position. The same goes with China, with them using the strait of Malacca in southeast Asia as a passage they could close which would disrupt 80% of China’s oil trade. Chinese leaders have called this the “Malacca Dilemma” in the past.   Since the Iran war, it has come to light that China has once again found a path out of this misery and showed the world silently that this dilemma is far gone. When the whole world was panicking due to the Strait of Harmoz shutting down, China with no hurdles dropped their oil imports by 50% and started using their oil reserves which were more than double than usa. This was a direct showcase to the USA that even if they block straight out of Malacca- China will survive and wont go into an economic shutdown.   Now it is very evident that China has secured its position as an export leader, having significant oil reserves, defenses as well as the support of major countries through mutual diplomacy, and the US is forced down on its knees- especially after the Trump and Biden administration. The US has no options but to comply with China which was seen when Trump and his billionaire delegation visited China- which they were deemed to be intimidated by.

Let me begin where every honest sentence on this subject must begin: I condemn, without reservation, the murder of Mir Raza Ali, the 25-year-old founder of Karachi’s beloved dessert brand Wafflix. He left his home before dawn on July 28, 2026, telling his mother he would return in ten minutes. He never did. His body was found the next day in the bushes of Gulistan-e-Jauhar, bearing torture marks and a gunshot wound. Eighteen days later, his family still waits for the truth, and I appeal — as every citizen should — for a swift, transparent investigation and justice for his killers. Nothing that follows in this essay is meant to diminish that grief. It is meant to sit beside it, uneasily, and ask why our grief is so selective. Because for eighteen days now, Pakistan’s television screens have offered something close to a live tribunal. Home Minister Zia Ul Hassan Lanjar and Inspector General of Police Javed Alam Odho face anchors nightly. Forensic reports are dissected line by line. Postmortem findings, CCTV timelines, taxi records — every fragment of evidence is turned over on air with a rigor that would not embarrass The Hague. I do not begrudge this scrutiny; a young man is dead and the public deserves answers. But I confess, with something between astonishment and despair, that I cannot recall our media applying this same forensic hunger to the killing of the country’s economy. Even the assassination of former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto in 2007 — an event that reshaped this nation’s political history — did not receive this level of daily, granular dissection. Nor, in truth, did the world’s own gold standard for high-profile scrutiny, the 2018 murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi inside the Saudi consulate in Istanbul, sustain eighteen straight days of forensic-audit-level coverage in the country that lost him. So where is that same appetite for NEPRA and CPPA? Here is what nobody puts on a talk show: over the past three years, dozens of Pakistanis — an elderly widow in Gujranwala, a mother of four in Jahanian, a young man in Faisalabad, a payphone operator in Peshawar — have taken their own lives after receiving electricity bills they could not pay. These were not abstractions. They were documented, named, buried. And yet no anchor has spent eighteen consecutive nights asking the chairman of NEPRA why. No panel has summoned the CEO of the Central Power Purchasing Agency to explain, plainly, in language a shopkeeper in Bahadurabad could understand, why this country of 260 million people pays some of the region’s highest power tariffs while its own regulator’s reports describe capacity sitting idle. Where is the media trial of the men who told us, from 2014 to 2018, that imported coal would be Pakistan’s “game changer,” and of the former prime minister who made the same promise about LNG-fired plants? Those promises are now line items in a debt-trapped economy, in a nation reduced, again and again, to a global begging bowl. But no one is asked to answer for them on camera. They sit, as it were, behind a veil — while the Director General of ISPR and the Chief of Defence Forces routinely stand before microphones and take hard questions. Why can Pakistan’s military spokesmen face the public, but not the men who set the price of electricity for every household in the country? I want to be precise, not merely aggrieved, so let me offer what I found when I went looking myself. CPPA-G’s own energy purchase data for May–June 2026 shows three nearly identical imported-coal plants — Huaneng Shandong Ruyi at Sahiwal (1,244 MW), China Power Hub in Balochistan (1,249 MW), and Port Qasim in Karachi (1,243 MW) — dispatched at wildly different rates. Huaneng ran at roughly 73 percent of capacity; Port Qasim at only 36 percent; China Power Hub at a mere 24 percent — this despite Huaneng being, by current fuel charges, the most expensive of the three at roughly Rs. 20.38 per unit, against Rs. 15.12 for Port Qasim and Rs. 16.09 for Hub. If Pakistan’s Economic Merit Order genuinely governed dispatch, the cheaper southern plants should be running harder, not idling at a quarter of their design capacity. Something else is deciding who generates and who doesn’t — transmission bottlenecks, take-or-pay contract terms that favor Sahiwal, or simple operational failure at Hub, whose output fell 37 percent in a single month. Whatever the cause, Pakistani consumers are still paying full capacity charges for roughly 760 to 940 idle megawatts at each underused plant — fixed costs for electricity that was never produced, quietly folded into tariffs nobody explains on air. This is not a call to relent on Mir Raza Ali. It is a plea that the same courage be extended elsewhere. I am not asking media to abandon one grieving family; I am asking whether this nation’s curiosity has been rationed, aimed carefully at the stories that move ratings but never at the ledgers that move our poverty. Who decides that a private tragedy in Gulistan-e-Jauhar deserves eighteen days of forensic television, while a public catastrophe costing every household thousands of rupees a month deserves none? Is there a veil, a ghost hand, guiding our screens away from NEPRA’s boardroom and toward whatever is easier to sell? My request to Pakistan’s media is respectful, not accusatory: summon the chairman and members of NEPRA and the CEO of CPPA, and ask them, on camera, to explain the dispatch logic behind May and June’s generation data, to quantify what idle capacity is costing consumers per unit, to say plainly whether transmission constraints are forcing reliance on costlier northern plants while cheaper southern capacity sits dark, and to commit to passing any findings transparently through the Fuel Charges Adjustment mechanism, as the NEPRA Act itself demands. Pakistan is the fifth most populous nation on earth, and yet the men who preside over its power sector — the chairmen and members of NEPRA and OGRA, the leadership

Across the world, a quiet but powerful realization has taken hold among policymakers, educators, and security experts alike: the battle against extremism and terrorism cannot be won through force alone. It must be won in classrooms, community centers, sports fields, and digital spaces where young people spend their formative years. Youth, who make up more than half the population in many developing nations including Pakistan, represent both the greatest vulnerability and the greatest opportunity in this struggle. When disenfranchised, unemployed, and disillusioned, young people become easy targets for radical recruiters who promise purpose, belonging, and revenge for perceived injustices. But when engaged, educated, and empowered, that same demographic becomes the most formidable wall against violent ideologies. The logic is simple yet often ignored by policymakers fixated on military and law enforcement solutions. Extremist organizations have long understood that idle, aggrieved youth are their most fertile recruiting ground. Poverty, lack of education, unemployment, and a sense of alienation from mainstream society create psychological vacuums that radical narratives rush to fill. Counterterrorism strategies that ignore this reality and rely solely on kinetic operations may eliminate individual militants but do nothing to stop the conveyor belt producing new recruits. A zero-tolerance approach to extremism must therefore be twofold: uncompromising against violence itself, while simultaneously investing heavily in prevention through youth engagement. Several nations offer instructive models. Indonesia, home to the world’s largest Muslim population, faced a serious extremist threat in the early 2000s following the Bali bombings. Rather than relying exclusively on security crackdowns, the government partnered with religious scholars and civil society organizations to run De radicalization programs specifically targeting young former militants and at-risk youth. These programs combined vocational training, religious counter-messaging, and psychological support, helping thousands reintegrate into society while simultaneously building a broader national narrative of moderate, tolerant Islam that appealed to younger generations disillusioned with violent rhetoric. Denmark’s Aarhus Model, developed to address the flow of young citizens joining the Islamic State in Syria, similarly emphasized rehabilitation over pure punishment for youth who had not committed serious crimes. Mentorship programs paired returning young people with community figures, psychologists, and former extremists who had themselves walked away from radical ideologies. The approach recognized that shame and exclusion often push vulnerable youth further toward extremist communities that offer unconditional acceptance, whereas structured reintegration paired with firm legal consequences for actual violence creates pathways back to mainstream society. The United Kingdom’s Prevent strategy, despite facing criticism over profiling concerns, demonstrated the value of embedding counter-extremism awareness within schools and universities, training teachers to recognize early warning signs of radicalization and intervene before ideological commitment hardens. Meanwhile, Nigeria’s response to Boko Haram insurgency increasingly incorporated youth-focused economic empowerment programs in the northeast, recognizing that widespread poverty and lack of opportunity in the region had been ruthlessly exploited by militant recruiters promising financial incentives to jobless young men. For Pakistan, which has paid an enormous price in blood and treasure fighting terrorism over the past two decades, these international examples carry urgent lessons. The country’s youth bulge, with a median age below 23, is simultaneously its greatest asset and its greatest vulnerability. Regions historically affected by militancy, including parts of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan, continue to suffer from inadequate educational infrastructure, high unemployment, and limited access to vocational training, conditions that extremist networks have historically exploited with alarming success. A national strategy that couples uncompromising military and intelligence operations against active terrorist networks with sustained, well-funded investment in youth education, sports programs, technical training, and civic engagement could fundamentally alter the recruitment landscape over a generation. Digital literacy must also become a central pillar of this strategy. Extremist recruitment has migrated substantially online, where algorithms on social media platforms can inadvertently funnel vulnerable young users toward increasingly radical content. Countries that have invested in digital counter-narrative campaigns, training young social media influencers and content creators to actively challenge extremist messaging with authentic, relatable content, have seen measurable success in disrupting online radicalization pipelines. Pakistan’s own vibrant youth culture, increasingly connected through smartphones even in remote areas, could be harnessed similarly if government and civil society organizations invest in training a new generation of digital counter-extremism voices. Ultimately, the fight against terrorism cannot be sustained through security operations alone, however necessary those remain against active threats. Zero tolerance for violence must be matched with zero tolerance for the conditions that breed it: poverty, ignorance, and hopelessness among the young. The examples of Indonesia, Denmark, the United Kingdom, and Nigeria demonstrate that no single formula guarantees success, but all share a common thread, treating youth not as suspects to be monitored but as partners to be invested in. For a nation like Pakistan standing at a demographic crossroads, the choice is stark and urgent: empower this generation of young people as guardians of peace, or risk watching extremist networks continue to recruit from among society’s most overlooked and underserved.