A Pukhtun Dream By Faiq Yousafzay (21-06-2003)
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After Martin Luther Dream MY DREAM I have a Dream Pakhtoon slaves who are being seared in the flames of withering injustice. When will the joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity. 50 years later to the creation of Pakistan, we are still facing the tragic fact that the Pakhtoon are still not free. Fifty years later, the chains of segregation and the chains of discrimination still sadly cripple the life of the Pakhtoon. Fifty years later, the Pakhtoon lives on lonely footpaths of poverty in the Pakistani and Arab cities of material prosperity. Fifty years later, the Pakhtoon is still languishing in the corners of Pakistani society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a dreadful condition. In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the declaration of objectives, they were signing a promissory note to which every Pakistani was to fall legatee. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that Punjabis have defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of the nationality are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, Punjabis have given the Pakhtoon, Sindhies and Baloch people a bad check, which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind Punjab of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of national justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of Pakistanis. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of ethical injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. It would be fatal for the country to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Pakhtoon. This sweltering summer of the Pakhtoon genuine restlessness will not pass until there is a refreshing spring of freedom and equality. Nineteen forty-seven is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Pakhtoon needed to guard, polish and drive and will now be happy will have a rude awakening if the country returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in Pakistan until the Pakhtoon, Baloch Sindhies and Serikies are granted their citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our country until the bright day of justice emerges. But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm verge, which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Pakhtoon community must not lead us to distrust of all the Punjabis, for many of our Punjabis brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, tired with driving others vehicles, polishing other’s shoes and building others palaces, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Pakhtoon's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Pakhtoon in central Pakhtoonkhawa cannot vote and a Pakhtoon in Karachi, Dubai and Riyadh believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty Indus. I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police and military brutality. You have been the experienced person of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is liberation. Go back to Peshawar, go back to Quetta, go back to Charssada, go back to Babara, go back to the Thakht Bai and to Sawabi, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not hesitate in the valley of despair. I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the Khushal Khan dream. I have a dream that one day this Pakhtoon will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal." I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Karak the sons of former freedom fighters and the sons of former Agents of Punjab will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day on the white hills of Swat the sons of the freedom fighters and the sons of the Walies will sit together at a table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the plains of Sibi, a desert, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my only daughter, my nephews will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the nationality of their fathers but by the content of their character. I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day the Pakhtoonkhawa, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little Pakhtoon boys and Pakhtoon girls will be able to join hands with little Sindhi, Balochi and Punjabi girls and boys and walk together as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day every valley shall be glorious, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together. The Indus will irrigate the dry plains of Kohat, Karak, Laki Marwat and Waziristan This is our hope. This is the faith with which look at the future. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful masterpiece of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. This will be the day when all of Pakhtoon will be able to sing their own songs with a new meaning, "My Pakhtoonkhawa, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring." And if Pakistan is to be a great country this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of Khyber and Kojak. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of Suliman. Let freedom ring from the heightening snow of Shangala! Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Tops of Chitral! Let freedom ring from the waves of Indus! But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Buner! Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Gadoon! Let freedom ring from every hill and every “Sanobbery hills” of Ziarat. From every mountainside, let freedom ring. When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every tribe and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, Pakhtoon men and Pakhtoon women, Yousafzaies and Kakar, Wazir and Mehsoods, Marwat and Khattaks, Achakzaies and Mandokhels, Afridies and Shinwaries, Tareens and Jogazeis Naizies and Duranies will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Khushal Khan spiritual, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!" Faiq Yousafzai
