Racism Against Sindhis: Pakistan’s Normalised Prejudice And Its Dangerous Silence

Entrenched prejudice against Sindhis, rooted in state and society alike, continues to shape politics, media, and everyday life, silencing dissent through fear and hostility

Racism Against Sindhis: Pakistan’s Normalised Prejudice And Its Dangerous Silence

The famous podcaster, writer, and probably the most sensible social media presenter in Pakistan, Shehzad Ghias Shaikh, is under fire these days. Why? Because he talks sense. He has started exposing the deep-seated prejudices against Sindhis prevalent in the country, especially in Karachi. As a consequence, he is facing serious threats to his security.

The malignant biases sown at the very inception of the country and nurtured over the decades have started bearing bitter fruit for everyone to taste. Remember the remarks of the first Prime Minister of the country: “Do camel-herders have a culture?”, mocking Sindhi culture?

Unfortunately, this blatant bigotry against the community, encouraged through the years, is not just condoned; it has been normalised in society.

I happened to watch, for example, a programme hosted by the famous cricketers Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis, and the singer Fakhr-e-Alam. They were making fun of a bowler named Shahnawaz Dahani from Larkana. I could not believe my ears when I heard the grandson of General Rani saying, “These people (obviously referring to Sindhis) are good for nothing. They have no talent, except for, probably, hospitality.” Both Wasim and Waqar laughed loudly and shamelessly in approval. But maybe Alam was right.

Perhaps Sindhis lack the talent to provide the services that his family has been rendering to General Yahya and, more recently, to Captain Amrinder Singh of Eastern Punjab. To their shame, Dahani recently proved his talent in an Abu Dhabi T10 League match, securing a nail-biting four-run victory for the Northern Warriors by defending only eight runs in the final over against the Asifn Stallions.

A few months back, when the Sindh government decided to put the Ajrak symbol on the licence plates of vehicles registered in the province, there was a lot of resistance, especially from one immigrant ethnic terrorist outfit, because Ajrak represented Sindh. Seemingly, the organisation is being revived by the powers that be to counter PPP popularity these days.

One Jamaat-e-Islami councillor in Karachi put an Ajrak number plate around the neck of a donkey, took a picture, and posted it on social media. This absurdity was not unexpected from a Jamaat follower. The current Ameer of Jamaat-e-Islami, Hafiz Naeem, himself from Hazara, had openly avowed to cleanse Karachi of Sindhis while he was running, luckily unsuccessfully, for the mayorship of the city.

Previously, Imran Khan, while in office as Prime Minister and even before, whenever he visited the city, publicly tried to incite the racial biases of Karachiites by ‘sympathising’ with them for being ruled by people from outside Karachi, Sindhis. No wonder he is the most hated politician in Sindh, at least.

From the ‘eternal truth’ uncovered by the first Prime Minister of Pakistan about Sindhis being uncultured camel-herders, to the royal decree by the country’s last dictator that Sindhis were a meritless, ignorant lot, one can clearly see a pattern, a continuum of state-orchestrated and propagated bias against Sindhis

I saw a tweet the other day in which some lady was unhappy that, while in Dolmen Mall, she heard people speaking in Sindhi. She was wondering what those people were doing in Karachi. What were Sindhis doing in the capital of Sindh?! That reminded me of a statement by the famous champion of the rights of the oppressed people of the smaller provinces, Khan Abdul Wali Khan.

During the first tenure of Shaheed Benazir Bhutto, Khan Sahib complained that there were a lot of Sindhis in the Sindh Secretariat and that no paper moved until it touched the hands of one Sindhi-speaking person or another. Someone should have asked him what language was spoken in the Frontier (now Khyber Pakhtunkhwa) Assembly. He should have compared the percentage of Sindhis in the Sindh Secretariat with the percentage of Pashtuns in the Frontier Secretariat.

In 1990, after completing my degree in the United States and working for a technology company for a few years, I applied for a job advertised by a head-hunting company for a multinational bank in Karachi. I was invited for an interview. The interview went well, during which I was also asked about my ethnicity.

There were two openings. One of my colleagues, a Punjabi, was selected for one of them. He was asked if he knew someone else with the same qualifications. The colleague referred my name to them. The recruiter, Mr Mansoor Qureshi, I still remember his name, said to my colleague, “Yes, we interviewed him and really liked him. He would probably have been the first person we would have hired. But he is a Sindhi.” The position was never filled because they could not find a suitable candidate, and a Sindhi did not deserve it.

One of my friends is a retired Pakistan Army colonel from Hazara. He never tires of talking about equality and brotherhood among Pakistanis, and so on. Recently, while chatting with him, I told him about the promotion of a Sindhi friend to the rank of major general. His casual reply was, “Yes. They have now lowered standards in the army to accommodate Sindhis in the higher ranks.”

Even in the United States, there has hardly been an occasion when I am in a gathering of Pakistanis and do not hear a racial slur against Sindhis. If they notice my presence, they try to make it look as if they are making fun of Zardari, Bilawal, or the PPP. But the target is obviously Sindhis.

General Musharraf, the soi-disant president of the country, while he was raping the country at gunpoint, was asked why the top positions under him lacked Sindhis. His answer: Sindhis do not merit top jobs.

From the ‘eternal truth’ uncovered by the first Prime Minister of Pakistan about Sindhis being uncultured camel-herders, to the royal decree by the country’s last dictator that Sindhis were a meritless, ignorant lot, one can clearly see a pattern, a continuum of state-orchestrated and propagated bias against Sindhis, right from the early days of the country to date. Even today, I find it hard to name one Sindhi minister or powerful bureaucrat in the Shehbaz government. The Supreme Court of the country went without a single Sindhi-speaking judge for a long time, up until the end of the Bandial era. The reason: some powerful judges did not want to see a Sindhi-speaking judge on the Court.

Ghias Shaikh, being the conscience of the country, is under threat. He has started speaking openly against the hatred prevailing against a major community in the country, and as a result, he is facing threats.

But that is quite understandable. When everyone, from a known urban terrorist group, to a troublemaking religio-political party, to a retired army officer, to the all-powerful military president of the country, practises racism openly and unabashedly with impunity, threats to people like Ghias Shaikh are not only understandable; they pose a clear and present danger to his life. I am not sure if the government has taken notice of these threats.

But the real question is this: Is this racism going to end someday? And how?

The writer is an independent political observer based in the USA.