By Khadijah Fasih

I was recently watching Kafeel, a Pakistani drama serial written by Umera Ahmad and directed by Meesam Naqvi, when I was caught off-guard by a dialogue spoken by an important character, Jaweria, to her brother Subuk :

“Pathan sai zara lachha paratha lai kai ana”

Translation from the drama’s subtitles : “And Brother Subuk go grab a lachha paratha from the Pathan’s hotel.”

– Episode 30 (08:17)

It was an insignificant dialogue, in no way central to the plot, and lasted for merely a second. Yet, I felt struck by the lack of perception Pakistani media has against Pakhtun/Pashtun people. I am aware many restaurants under the name ‘Pathan’ exist or are owned by them – not to say that is not a noble pursuit, as any form of hard and honest work will always be noble. The issue of the matter lies in the fact that our media often reduces Pukhtoon characters to being a punchline in their story and witnessing the identity of your people being constantly subjected to institutionalised racism is deeply frustrating.

Despite being Pakistan’s second largest ethnic group, our media remains ignorant of correctly addressing Pakhtuns. The usage of the exonym, Pathan, is an echo of colonialism as it was mainly used by the British administration, and in their literature as well as military discourse, which heavily carried offensive stereotypes. The endonyms, Pashtun, Pakhtun, Pashton, are the accurate terms native to the Pashto phonetics. The primary measure in attempting to address the issue of Pakhtuns in Pakistani media should begin with decolonising and rectifying the nomenclature used for identifying them.

Time and again, Pakhtuns have been portrayed as caricaturised versions of who they truly are and placed within the narrative only for the purpose of fulfilling an unnecessary and racist ‘comical’ role, often under the sobriquet of Gul Khan.

I was first exposed to this stereotype upon watching the extremely famous Ramzan drama : Suno Chanda. In episode one (28:15), the character Jalal Phupa is introduced after journeying from Peshawar to Karachi. His opening dialogue is an argument with the taxi driver, Gul Khan, an original Pakhtun name like no other ! Immediately the forced accent loomed over all their dialogues, an accent, which after living for twenty years in Peshawar, I have yet to hear. Peshawar, like any other settled city in Pakistan, has schools that teach urdu as a part of their curriculum. The only thing I found comical about Jalal Phupa was not merely Adnan Shah Tipu’s pathetic accent, but the fact that he belongs to Faisalabad, Punjab, and is acting out a Peshawari Pakhtun. What then are we to expect but an erroneous portrayal?

From the wife-beating baboon, Bahadur Shah, played by Hassan Noman in Yakeen ka Safar, to Ahsan Khan as Darakzaie in Meray Humnasheen, to the entire premise of Khaiee, Pakhtuns have been either chosen for negative or ludicrous roles. Sanam Saeed and Mohib Mirza, in Deedan, reinforced the pejorative stereotype of violent, hyper-conservative, noble savages with their fictionalised accents through their characters Resham and Gul Baz. An honourable mention is Sang-e-Maah which sets off its offence in the first two minutes of its first episode. Hassan Noman, once again stepping into the ill-fitted shoes of a Pakhtun character, this time Badam Gul, exaggerates his urdu accent and says :

“Pire (Fire) karnai sai pehlai bata tou kardiya dou bibi, sara nasha tor diya.”

How ridiculous !

I mean sure, some people might have such accents in certain tribal Pakhtun areas, but does that really justify the manufactured stereotyping we are constantly targeted by? Will us Pakhtuns only be seen through the lens of artificial accents, violence, drugs, hyper-masculinity and a lack of education? If this is representation, we don’t want it. This is not diversity, rather it is a form of division and hatred through recycled tropes.

Pakhtuns have made immense contributions to Pakistan. Not only have they defended and protected their country with their lives at borders, they have also made contributions to literature, science, medicine, art, businesses, film and media, sports and many more sectors of life. Yet, the media only finds Pashto-inflected urdu accents the most interesting thing about us.

Dr. Abdul Qadeer Khan, the man who fathered Pakistan’s atomic power, was an Orakzai Pashtun, with personal writings claiming his maternal linkage to the Tirah Valley. Mahira Khan, a globally acclaimed actress who has represented Pakistan at Harvard, UNHCR and more, is Pashtun. Doctor Miqdad, an internationally and nationally celebrated cardiologist, is Pashtun. Former global Squash player, Jansher Khan, who won the World Open eight times and British Open six times is a Pashtun. Fashiuddin (PSP) the founder and President of Pakistan’s Society of Criminology is Pashtun. General Nigar Johar, the first and only Pakistani woman to reach the rank of a lieutenant general is Pashtun. So many great urdu actors – Firdous Jamal, Qavi Khan, Khushal Khan Khattak, Bilal Abbas Khan, Ameer Gillani, Dananeer Mobeen, and more – are Pashtun. These are not even a quarter of the great Pashtun people Pakistan has produced, so why then does our media normalise ethnic stereotyping of the Pashtun people under the guise of entertainment?

Pakistani media has so consistently been getting Pakhtun representation wrong that at this point it feels intentional. It is high time our actors, actresses and directors move past this biased version of our identity.

Show me Pakhtuns through the non-violence of Bacha Khan Baba, the poetry of Ghani Khan, the music of Sardar Ali Takar, the thread-work of Almas Khanum and the artistry of Jamal Shah. Tell the world their tales of Kumrat’s Golden Chalice, their bravery and heroism and the bitter-sweet romance of Adam Khan and Durkhanai. Let the nation and world learn of Pashtuns beyond flattened stereotypes and rather through the expert volleyball they play on their rugged village grounds with no adequate equipment or the warm food they cook on a rainy day, or the forgiveness and hospitality they show to both their guests and enemies.

Good and bad people exist everywhere, in every nationality, ethnicity, and caste, so let the world see our positive side too. We are so much more than a laughable and unlikeable character !