Malala and mattersof the mind

By Kamila Hyat

The eloquent, poised speech from Malala Yousufzai at the UN Headquarters to mark a day named after her – and on her 16th birthday – should have filled us all with pride. Few teenagers possess the maturity Malala demonstrated and even fewer have moved the world as she has. We should be proud she comes from our country, and should certainly stand ashamed of what was inflicted on her and her schoolmates last year. The events in Swat on October 9, 2012 should have – in the first place – created a much bigger response amongst us. They, however, did not and the same confusion, the same dichotomy in mindset, was reflected after her UN speech. For a number of warped reasons, Malala Yousufzai has become an object of controversy rather than admiration. As a nation we are well-versed in the art of pulling people down to the ground, rather than helping rise them up and stand tall. This is what we have tried to do to Malala. Even though we desperately need heroes – male and female – who can act as role models, we refuse to accept Malala as someone who can play this part. This may be because to some degree we are unwilling to accept a young girl, indeed a mere child, as a symbol of courage and inspiration. But the problem goes beyond this. First, there are the conspiracy theories; the ‘suspicions’ that the whole incident may have been faked, with western support, to ‘damage’ Pakistan. It would appear some people actually believe the shooting incident was staged. There have been suggestions, from those one would have considered perfectly reasonable people, that there is ‘more’ to the Malala story than meets the eye. This story begins, essentially, with a bullet in the head. They do not explain if Malala and her parents deliberately allowed her to be shot, leaving behind extensive damage that could so easily have killed her. How can there be more to this sequence of events? It is hard to understand such thinking, harder still to analyse it. We have simply developed a diseased, twisted mindset in which anything or anyone praised by the west is considered evil. This thinking is driven on by leaders, such as those from both the Jamaat-e-Islami and the Jamiat-e-Ulema Islam-Fazl, who questioned last year if the child had been shot at all. This while she was undergoing emergency surgery in Peshawar and then, on medical advice, was whisked away to the UK for further care in an air ambulance provided by the UAE. Her distraught father, Ziauddin Yousufzai, was quickly portrayed as a ‘dollar digger’, presumably one who had his own daughter and her friends shot. No one who has met the determined schoolteacher from Swat – a valiant fighter against the Taliban, a man known in Mingora as a quiet humanitarian helping many however he could and an obviously devoted father who is proud of his eldest child – would believe this for even a moment. Still more shocking has been the response after the speech. Yes, there has been some openhearted praise and a sense of pride. But this seems to come from a minority group. The BBC and other online sites broadcasting the speech were flooded with snide, openly hostile comments and abusive comments even before the speech ended. Most accused Malala of being a ‘US stooge’ or agent. Others asked why she had not spoken about drone strikes – an entirely irrelevant issue, given her focus on promoting universal education – and around many of the remarks the ugly, green snake of jealousy seemed to have wrapped itself, grudging Malala the global attention and standing ovations she received, rather than celebrating this as a national success. Beyond sections of the English language media, coverage was largely muted. In some cases the speech, which made global headlines, was relegated to inside pages even by mainstream publications. While there were touching pictures of schoolchildren in England crying as they heard the speech, describing Malala as an ‘idol’, no such images seemed to come from her own homeland. Even people who one would expect would know better reacted in an odd fashion. Punjab Chief Minister Shahbaz Sharif, rather unwisely, tweeted from a personal Twitter account, commenting that the speech was tailor-made for global audiences. Since Malala was addressing the UN, a speech suitable for an international audience was only appropriate. The comment from the CM was removed some time later as criticism poured in – alongside support from his many Twitter followers. The PML-N has pointed out that this was not Shahbaz Sharif’s official account. However, he has used the account often and it is his opinion as a leader that is relevant. The remark simply reinforces suspicions regarding certain political parties’ thinking, sometimes hidden behind a thin veneer of ‘progressiveness’. The president of the country, Asif Ali Zardari – in his official capacity – felicitated Malala after her speech. Some PPP and ANP figures are reported to have at least sent personal messages. No other major political figure or leader of a party did so. The lack of comment from the prime minister, the education minister and the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa chief minister were perhaps particularly obvious – glaring omissions that reflect the broader state of thinking in the country. Clearly, something has gone very wrong with a nation that hesitates to promote education or welcome open-heartedly those who do. In many ways, this way of thinking is even more dangerous than the bullets fired by the Taliban or the bombs used by them over the years to kill thousands of innocent people. We have become confused – almost dazed – living in a hallucinatory world and convincing ourselves that, like some kind of badly-written fantasy, almost every force is pitched against us and every event is orchestrated to malign our country and its people. The realm of rationality has slipped away. Malala Yousufzai has been nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. If she wins it, she would, at age 16, become the youngest ever recipient of what is almost certainly the most prestigious award in the world. Even the fact that she is one of the frontrunners for the award is a huge honour. The question we need to ask is: if Malala is named as the Nobel laureate for the year, will we shun her as we did our previous Nobel prize winner, Dr Abdus Salam Khan? Will we refuse to acknowledge her as we did Dr Salam? Why is it that we refuse to accept our heroes with magnanimity? Clearly something has gone very wrong with our thinking processes. The Malala Yousufzai saga has simply highlighted this and shown just how much we need to do to stay in step with the rest of the world using logic rather than paranoia to guide us and determine how we act.