The Gen Z and Its Vision of Pakistan

As a journalist, my entire professional life has been dedicated to defending freedom of expression, civil liberties, and an independent press. Throughout more than two decades in journalism, I have firmly believed that the right to express one’s views is a fundamental human right, protected not only by Pakistan’s Constitution but also by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the laws of most democratic nations. However, no right in any civilized society is absolute. Every freedom comes with responsibility. When freedom is divorced from responsibility, it ceases to be a force for reform and instead becomes a source of disorder. That is why every mature democracy has established legal and ethical boundaries to ensure that freedom of expression serves the public interest rather than undermining it. The rise of social media has revolutionized the flow of information. Today, an ordinary citizen possesses communication power that was once reserved for major media organizations. A smartphone, a short video, and a single click can spread information, allegations, or opinions across the globe within minutes. Used responsibly, this technology promotes transparency, accountability, and public awareness. Used recklessly, without verification or evidence, it can inflict irreparable damage on individuals, institutions, and society. The recent controversy involving the University of the Punjab illustrates this challenge. A video circulated on social media in which serious allegations were made against several faculty members. Shortly after the video surfaced, the university administration issued an official statement rejecting the allegations and referred the matter to the police, the Cyber Crime Investigation Agency, and other relevant authorities for investigation. The episode also exposed another troubling aspect of today’s digital environment. Several freelance vloggers and social media accounts amplified the allegations, yet many failed to present the university’s official response with equal prominence. One of the fundamental principles of journalism is to provide all concerned parties with an opportunity to present their position before public opinion is shaped. Based on the information currently available and my own research, the viral video did not publicly present independently verifiable evidence supporting the allegations. Nor has it been established that a formal written complaint was submitted through the university’s prescribed grievance mechanism before the video was released. If the ongoing investigation establishes otherwise, those findings must be accepted with the same commitment to fairness and truth. Equally important is ensuring that the investigation is not limited solely to the allegations themselves. If it is established that any individual or group deliberately misled students, orchestrated a coordinated campaign, or exploited social media to damage the reputation of an institution or its members, those responsible should also be held accountable under the law. Conversely, if the allegations are substantiated, the complainants deserve full justice without discrimination. Accountability must apply equally to everyone. This case extends far beyond a single university. It reflects the growing problem of irresponsible social media usage. Increasingly, individuals bypass legal forums, institutional complaint mechanisms, and investigative authorities, choosing instead to take their grievances directly to social media. Within minutes, a viral post can shape public opinion, damage reputations, and, in many cases, allow the “court of social media” to pronounce its verdict long before any formal investigation has concluded. Such a trend blurs the line between freedom of expression and irresponsible expression. Recognizing these risks, many developed countries have introduced stricter regulations governing digital platforms. The European Union’s Digital Services Act (DSA) and Digital Markets Act (DMA) require major technology companies to act swiftly against illegal content, terrorist propaganda, child sexual abuse material, counterfeit products, and other harmful content. These laws also require greater transparency in algorithms, stronger user protections, and comprehensive risk assessments, with violations carrying multi-billion-euro penalties. The United States follows a different constitutional model. While the First Amendment provides broad protection for freedom of speech, this does not mean that every form of online content is beyond regulation. Social media companies continue to enforce community standards against hate speech, incitement to violence, terrorism-related content, child exploitation, financial fraud, and other unlawful activities. Several U.S. states are also developing legislation addressing AI-generated deepfakes, child online safety, and digital privacy. In Pakistan, the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act (PECA) provides the principal legal framework for addressing cybercrime. However, concerns have repeatedly been raised by political parties, journalists, and human rights organizations regarding aspects of its implementation. This underlines the importance not only of effective legislation but also of its transparent, impartial, and constitutional enforcement. The rapid rise of artificial intelligence, deepfake technology, disinformation, and organized online propaganda has made responsible journalism and responsible social media use more important than ever. Freedom of expression remains the cornerstone of every democratic society, but using that freedom to damage individuals or institutions without credible evidence serves neither journalism nor democracy. Pakistan, like many other countries, faces the challenge of preserving free expression while preventing the misuse of digital platforms. The objective should never be to silence legitimate criticism or suppress dissent. Instead, it should be to ensure that freedom is exercised with honesty, evidence, and accountability.   Freedom of expression is the soul of democracy. Yet when it is separated from truth, integrity, and responsibility, it no longer remains freedom—it becomes disorder. A civilized society is one where the law protects those who speak the truth while holding accountable those who knowingly spread falsehoods. That balance represents the true spirit of free expression and remains the hallmark of every democratic, civilized, and dignified nation.    

Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Türkiye’s landmark defence agreement draws international attention; Shehbaz Sharif and Field Marshal Asim Munir play pivotal roles in historic strategic breakthrough The landmark Makkah Joint Defence Agreement between Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Türkiye has triggered intense international interest, with analysts viewing the accord as a potentially significant development in the evolving security architecture of the Middle East and wider Muslim world. Signed in Makkah by Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif, Saudi Crown Prince and Prime Minister Mohammed bin Salman and Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, the agreement establishes a collective-defence principle under which an armed attack against any one of the three countries will be regarded as an attack against all three. The pact brings together three strategically important states with highly complementary capabilities: Saudi Arabia’s economic and energy weight, Türkiye’s powerful conventional military and expanding defence industry, and Pakistan’s extensive military experience and strategic deterrent. The combination has prompted international analysts to examine whether the Makkah agreement could become the foundation of a more autonomous, regionally driven security framework. Ishaq Dar: agreement is defensive, not directed against any country Pakistan’s Deputy Prime Minister and Foreign Minister Senator Ishaq Dar has sought to clarify the scope and purpose of the agreement amid growing international interest. Dar described the Makkah Accord as “purely defensive in nature” and “not targeted against any country”, stressing that its purpose is to strengthen collective security and promote peace and stability. He said the agreement does not replace or undermine existing bilateral or multilateral arrangements maintained by the three countries with each other, other states or international organisations. Under the accord, Dar explained, an external armed attack against any one of the three countries would be considered an attack against all, consistent with the inherent right of individual and collective self-defence under Article 51 of the UN Charter. Dar also said the framework remains open to other countries that share its principles and are prepared to resolve differences through mutual respect, cooperation and peaceful means. His clarification is strategically important because it positions the Makkah framework as a mechanism of deterrence rather than confrontation, without identifying Iran, Israel or any other state as a permanent adversary. Hakan Fidan compares mutual-defence provision with NATO Article 5 The most significant international description of the agreement’s collective-defence provision has come from Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan. Fidan said the provision is technically comparable to NATO’s Article 5, under which an attack against one member is treated as an attack against all. The comparison does not mean that the Makkah framework has NATO’s integrated command structure or institutional architecture. The practical response to any attack would be determined according to the circumstances. Fidan said a ministerial committee would be established and a general secretariat based in Saudi Arabia would oversee the framework, with further operational details to be developed. He also indicated that Türkiye wants the framework to expand, identifying Egypt as a potential future member. The prospect of expansion is potentially significant because it could transform a trilateral arrangement into a wider regional security mechanism. OIC welcomes agreement as an ‘important strategic step’ The Organisation of Islamic Cooperation has welcomed the agreement, with Secretary General Hissein Brahim Taha expressing strong support and describing the pact as an “important strategic step” reflecting the commitment of Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Türkiye to strengthening cooperation. The OIC response gives the agreement significance beyond the three signatories and places it within the wider context of cooperation among Muslim-majority countries. The development comes at a time when several regional states are reassessing existing security arrangements and seeking greater strategic autonomy. Saudi Arabia: strengthening security without abandoning existing partnerships Riyadh has emphasised that the new defence framework does not replace its existing security arrangements. Saudi Deputy Minister for Public Diplomacy Rayed Krimly said the agreement does not supersede or replace existing bilateral or multilateral agreements involving the three countries. The position reflects Saudi Arabia’s broader foreign-policy strategy of strategic diversification. The Kingdom continues to maintain a major relationship with the United States while simultaneously deepening strategic, economic and defence ties with Türkiye, Pakistan, China and other powers. The Makkah pact therefore appears less a replacement for existing alliances than an additional layer of regional deterrence. Chatham House: Türkiye pursuing strategic ‘hedging’ The Makkah agreement has also given renewed significance to earlier analysis by Chatham House. Tim Chattell of the International Security Programme at Chatham House examined the prospect of a Turkish strategic arrangement with Saudi Arabia and Pakistan before the trilateral agreement was signed. He argued that such cooperation formed part of Ankara’s wider strategy of “hedging” — developing alternative strategic partnerships while retaining its NATO commitments. Chattell also identified potential synergy between the three countries, particularly because Türkiye and Pakistan possess complementary defence capabilities while Saudi Arabia has significant financial resources that could support defence cooperation and industrial development. What had previously been examined as an emerging strategic alignment has now become a formal defence commitment. Atlantic Council: a ‘double deterrence tool’ The Atlantic Council has also examined the evolving Saudi-Pakistan security relationship. Analyst Eleonora Ardemagni described the Saudi-Pakistan defence pact as a “double deterrence tool”, arguing that the relationship reflected both immediate security concerns and Saudi Arabia’s longer-term drive towards greater defence autonomy. Her analysis highlighted military training, capacity building, defence-industry cooperation, technology transfer and potential co-production as important elements of the emerging partnership. The inclusion of Türkiye adds another major military and defence-industrial dimension to that relationship. A strategic triangle of complementary power The significance of the Makkah pact lies partly in the capabilities each country brings to the partnership. Saudi Arabia contributes enormous economic and energy influence, strategic geography and financial resources. Türkiye contributes a major conventional military, NATO experience and an increasingly sophisticated indigenous defence industry. Pakistan contributes one of the region’s largest and most experienced armed forces, longstanding military cooperation with Saudi Arabia and Türkiye, and a nuclear deterrent. The three-way combination therefore creates a strategic partnership in which each member contributes capabilities that complement

One question stayed with me long after I attended a workshop under the project titled ‘Digital Trust and Free Expression in the Era of AI’, organized by the Department of Media and Development Communication, University of the Punjab with the support of the U.S. Mission to Pakistan in partnership with the Pakistan-U.S. Alumni Network, was, ‘How will we preserve digital trust and free expression in the age of AI’? As AI becomes an integral part of digital journalism, the question is no longer whether it should be used, and more importantly who should be held responsible when things go wrong. Artificial Intelligence has definitely proven to be a powerful tool for journalists. It can summarize long reports, translate content into multiple languages, follow breaking news, analyze vast quantities of data and even write complete news reports in seconds. All of these capabilities have revolutionized newsroom processes and enabled journalists to process information more efficiently than ever before. But efficiency is not the only measure of ethical journalism. Journalism isn’t about being fast, it’s about informing the public accurately, fairly and responsibly. One of the most valuable lessons I learned from the workshop was that AI does not understand information; it predicts the most likely response based on patterns in the data it has learned from. This distinction is important because when reliable information is unavailable at the time, AI generates responses that seem convincing but inaccurate, but are wrong, which is often referred to as AI hallucination. What’s most concerning is that the AI generated mistakes can appear convincing enough for people to accept them as true. This poses an ethical question: Who should be held responsible if AI-generated news contains misleading information? The burden can’t be placed entirely on the algorithm. AI has no moral judgement or legal accountability. It cannot distinguish between public interest and public harm and is not aware of the social consequences of publishing inaccurate information. This means that the responsibility rests with those who decide to employ these technologies: journalists, editors, newsroom leaders, and media organizations. While AI can help create content, it cannot replace responsibility. This is where ethics become more important than technological advancements. Checking information should not take a back seat to the ‘Publish first’ mentality. With all of the digital platforms that exist today, misinformation can spread from continent to continent within minutes and corrections often fail to reach the same audience. Each unverified headline altered photo or AI-generated mistake can damage the public’s trust, both in a specific news organization and in journalism.   The discussions also reinforced the importance of Media and Information Literacy (MIL). Verification is not only the responsibility of journalists, but also something that is necessary for every digital citizen. Learning how to use reverse image search, source verification techniques, and critical evaluation of online information is no longer an option, it’s essential for protecting ourselves from deception. As AI-generated content becomes increasingly sophisticated, it is essential to verify information before accepting it as true. AI will continue to evolve and so will digital journalism. The challenge is not innovation itself but using it responsibly. Trust is not something algorithms can build, it is something that can be gained only through transparency, accountability and a steadfast dedication to truth. While adopting new technologies to do journalism, let’s not forget that the tools should enhance journalism’s values, not shape journalism. AI may help write the news, but only humans can uphold the ethics behind it. The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this blog are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the U.S. Mission to Pakistan or USEFP.

The real meaning of 14th August and the unfinished journey of Pakistan Every year, on 14th August, Pakistan dresses itself in green and white. Flags appear on buildings, vehicles and streets. National songs fill the air. Speeches remind us of the sacrifices of our forefathers, and we proudly celebrate the creation of Pakistan on 14 August 1947. And rightly so. Pakistan was not created without sacrifice. Millions suffered displacement, countless families were torn apart, and an entire generation endured enormous pain to establish a homeland. But every Independence Day should also make us ask a difficult question. What does independence actually mean? Is independence merely the absence of foreign rule? Or is true independence something much deeper? A country may possess a flag, a national anthem, a constitution, a parliament, an army and a sovereign territory, and yet its people may still remain trapped in poverty, injustice, corruption, ignorance, inequality and institutional weakness. If so, then perhaps political independence has been achieved, but the journey toward real national freedom is still incomplete. Freedom from whom, and freedom for what? The independence of 1947 gave the people of this land the right to govern themselves. But self-government carries a responsibility. The purpose of independence was not simply to replace foreign rulers with local rulers. It was to create a society in which people could live with dignity, justice, security and opportunity. The real question, therefore, is not whether Pakistan is an independent country. Of course it is. The real question is: Have we built the kind of society for which independence was meant to provide the opportunity? A nation is not truly free when an ordinary citizen cannot obtain justice without influence. A nation is not truly free when merit is defeated by connections. A nation is not truly free when public resources are treated as private property. A nation is not truly free when people are forced to pay bribes to obtain services that are already their legal rights. A nation is not truly free when the powerful can escape accountability while the weak struggle to be heard. And a nation is certainly not truly free when its citizens themselves participate in the corruption, dishonesty and lawlessness that they condemn in their rulers. The uncomfortable truth, governments are not the only problem We often blame politicians, bureaucrats, institutions and rulers for everything that is wrong with Pakistan. There is certainly plenty to criticize in our institutions and governance. But there is another uncomfortable question that we must have the courage to ask: What about us? Can a dishonest society produce an honest system? Can people who routinely evade taxes demand an honest government? Can someone who gives a bribe to get his work done then claim that corruption exists only in government offices? Can a person who uses political connections for personal benefit demand meritocracy when someone else gets an opportunity through influence? Can we demand justice from the state while refusing to practice justice in our own homes, businesses, workplaces and communities? This is where the real challenge begins. A nation’s character is ultimately reflected not only in its rulers, but also in the everyday conduct of its citizens. Corruption does not survive because only corrupt officials exist. It survives because there is often an ecosystem in which the giver, receiver, beneficiary and silent observer all contribute to its continuation. Independence without character is incomplete. The greatest weakness of a nation is not necessarily poverty. Nations can recover from poverty. They can recover from economic crises. They can rebuild after wars and natural disasters. But when dishonesty becomes socially acceptable, when corruption becomes a normal shortcut, when merit becomes negotiable and when people stop believing that laws should apply equally to everyone, the foundations of the state itself begin to weaken. This is why national independence must eventually become moral and civic independence. We must become independent from the mentality that says: “If everyone is doing it, why shouldn’t I?” We must become independent from: Corruption, bribery, nepotism, political favoritism, tax evasion, dishonesty in business, misuse of public property, intolerance, lawlessness, the worship of wealth and status, and the belief that rules are only for ordinary people. These are not merely personal weaknesses. When they become widespread, they become national problems. The mirror of 14th August Perhaps this Independence Day we should look into a mirror instead of merely looking at the flag. The flag tells us that we have a country. The mirror asks us. What kind of people are we becoming? We proudly say that Pakistan is a nuclear power. We proudly celebrate our armed forces, who have made enormous sacrifices in defending Pakistan. But a truly strong Pakistan must also possess strong institutions, rule of law, economic stability, justice, education and honest citizenry. We speak proudly about our sovereignty. But do ordinary citizens have economic, social and legal security? We celebrate democracy. But do we practice democratic values in our everyday lives? We demand accountability from rulers. But are we prepared to hold ourselves accountable? These questions may be uncomfortable, but Independence Day is precisely the right occasion to ask them. Real independence begins with the individual. We often imagine that changing Pakistan requires a great leader. Of course, competent and honest leadership matters. Good institutions matter. Strong laws matter. Independent courts matter. Professional administration matters. Transparent elections matter. But no institutional reform can permanently succeed if society itself refuses to change. Real national transformation begins much closer to home. It begins when a citizen decides. I will not give a bribe. It begins when an official decides: I will not misuse my authority. It begins when a businessman decides: I will not deceive my customer. It begins when a taxpayer decide. I will fulfil my responsibility. It begins when a teacher decides. I will teach honestly. It begins when a student decides. I will earn my degree through knowledge, not cheating. It begins when a voter decides. I will not sell my vote for

Every August, right on schedule, my phone starts buzzing. Friends send me lists. WhatsApp group start heated debates. Neighbours stop me at the corner shop. Someone always has an opinion about who made it onto Pakistan’s civil awards list this year, and someone always has an even louder opinion about who got left off. I have seen this happen so many times now that I could almost set my watch by it. The list comes out, the arguments start, and by the time the dust settles, nobody remembers what the fuss was even about. The award list carries the names which we like the most, and unfortunately, it carries those names, which do not like. I want to tell you something I have come to believe after watching this cycle play out year after year. This debate we keep having, about who deserved a medal and who did not, is about as useful as arguing over which cloud looks more like a rabbit. It never ends, and it never really goes anywhere either. People pick their favourites, defend them like family, and forget the whole point of what an award is supposed to mean in the first place. Here is the real point, plain and simple. An award is not a popularity contest. It is not a reward for showing up. It is meant for something extraordinary. Something exceptional. A person who did work so far above the ordinary that the state felt it had to stand up and say thank you in front of everybody. Now here is where the story gets interesting, and honestly, a little strange. An economist named Zehra Farooq sat down and did something most of us never bother to do. She pulled together every single civil award given out over nine years, all 2,209 of them, and looked at the pattern. What she found should stop us all in our tracks. Back in 2018, only 73 people received awards. By 2026, that number had climbed to 372. That is five times as many people being called extraordinary in less than a decade. Think about what that actually means. If we are handing out that many more awards for exceptional service, it should follow that we have more and more exceptional people walking among us. Teachers going beyond the call. Officers solving problems nobody else could touch. Scientists, engineers, public servants, all rising to meet the moment. That is what a growing list of honourees is supposed to tell us. But here is the part that keeps me up at night. If we truly have this many extraordinary minds working for the good of the country, why does the country not feel more extraordinary? Why do our institutions still creak and groan the way they always have? Why does public service still feel, for so many ordinary citizens, like an uphill climb rather than a smooth road paved by all this supposed excellence? Something does not add up. Either the definition of extraordinary has quietly loosened over the years, or the excellence being honoured is not translating into the everyday experience of the people it is meant to serve. Farooq’s numbers also show something else worth sitting with. Women still make up only around ten to sixteen percent of recipients, a share that has barely moved in nine years, and their share shrinks even further at the highest levels of honour. So the next time the list comes out and the arguments start flying, I hope we can steer the conversation somewhere more useful. Instead of fighting over names, let us ask why the growth in awards has not translated into a more exemplary, more ideal society. That is the debate worth having. That is the one that might actually change something.

Pakistan has debated the elimination of riba—a Quranic term subjected to judicial interpretation and theological discourse but still lacking a precise statutory definition—for decades. Judicial decisions have been delivered, commissions constituted, reports prepared, appeals filed and withdrawn, deadlines announced and Islamic banking expanded. The central intellectual and legislative task, however, remains incomplete. We have not developed a precise, comprehensive and operational definition of the economic practices that must be prohibited. This omission is not merely academic. No financial system can be reconstructed around a prohibition that is expressed only as a moral declaration. A law [Who will draft Riba Prohibition Law? Minute Mirror, April 7, 2026] must identify the transaction, the prohibited increment, the parties affected, the substance to be examined and the consequences of violation. It must also distinguish an unlawful return on money from lawful earnings arising from trade, labour, services, ownership and commercial risk. The first requirement of a serious programme for the elimination of riba is clarity. Riba is commonly translated as interest/usury. This translation is useful but incomplete. Modern interest is one of its most important manifestations, particularly where a lender advances money and contractually claims an additional amount merely because the borrower is allowed time to repay. The prohibition, however, cannot be confined to instruments carrying the label “interest”. Nor can every commercial gain, deferred price or fixed payment be declared riba. The distinction lies in the legal and economic substance of the transaction. Where money is advanced as a loan and the lender is guaranteed an increase over the principal, the return does not arise from ownership of a productive asset, provision of a service, participation in business or exposure to commercial loss. It arises from the loan itself and the passage of time. The borrower must pay the increase whether the borrowed funds generate profit, produce loss, meet a medical emergency or finance bare survival. This asymmetry lies at the heart of the problem. Capital is protected; return is predetermined; risk is shifted to the borrower. Trade operates differently. A trader purchases or produces an asset, assumes the risks of ownership, incurs costs, faces the possibility of loss and sells the asset at a profit. The profit is not earned merely because money has been unavailable to another person for a period. It is connected with property, exchange, enterprise and market risk. Lease income also rests upon a different foundation. An owner permits another person to use an asset while retaining the liabilities associated with ownership. Rent represents consideration for the use of the asset. The arrangement becomes questionable when the supposed owner bears no meaningful ownership risk and the entire structure is merely a cash loan disguised through documents. Partnership profit has another character. Partners combine capital, work, expertise or enterprise. Profit is divided according to an agreed formula permitted by the applicable juristic principles, while financial loss follows the capital placed at risk. A partner cannot lawfully guarantee himself a fixed return upon capital and compel the other partner to bear every commercial loss. These distinctions are recognised, with variations, across the major Muslim schools. They differ on matters such as the permissible relationship between capital contribution and profit-sharing ratios, conditions attached to contracts, possession, agency and the allocation of particular risks. They do not treat every profit as riba. Nor do they permit a partner to convert genuine risk participation into a guaranteed return on money. A modern Prohibition of Riba law must preserve these distinctions. The difficulty is that contemporary finance has developed techniques through which a loan can be divided into several formally separate contracts. An institution may purchase an asset for a few moments, sell it to the customer at a marked-up price, obtain comprehensive security, transfer every economic risk to the customer and calculate its return by reference to the prevailing interest rate. The transaction may satisfy documentary requirements while reproducing the economic substance of conventional lending. The institution receives a predetermined return; the customer bears the commercial risk; and the institution’s temporary ownership exists mainly to legitimise the financing charge. This does not mean that murabaha, ijarah or diminishing musharakah are inherently invalid. Each can serve a legitimate commercial purpose. Murabaha can facilitate an actual purchase where the financier genuinely acquires and assumes responsibility for the asset before selling it. Ijarah can finance the use of an asset where the lessor retains real ownership obligations. Diminishing musharakah can support home ownership where the parties genuinely share ownership and the customer gradually acquires the financier’s units. The problem arises when these contracts are treated as legal devices for guaranteeing the same return that would have been received under an interest-bearing loan. A workable definition must therefore contain both a formal and a substantive test. The formal test will examine the legal category of the contract. The substantive test will determine whether the financier has provided an asset, service or productive participation and whether it has assumed a genuine risk corresponding to its return. This test should not be misunderstood as hostility towards fixed prices. A lawful sale price may be fixed. Rent may be determined in advance. A service fee may be agreed. The existence of a fixed amount does not by itself establish riba. The decisive question is what the payment represents. A fee charged for maintaining an account, transferring funds, valuing property, arranging documentation or providing an identifiable professional service may be legitimate. A “service fee” calculated as a percentage of a loan, increasing with time and unrelated to the actual cost or nature of the service may be interest under another name. The same care is required in relation to delayed payment. A seller, who supplies goods on deferred payment, may charge a price higher than the immediate cash price, provided one price is finally agreed when the contract is concluded. Once the debt has been created, however, an additional amount cannot ordinarily be imposed merely because the debtor requires more time. This is where many modern systems institutionalise exploitation. A