Quotes of the Day

Pakistan's president, Pervez Musharraf, must be puzzled. The country's image abroad remains far worse than the reality. The international media give scant coverage to our rapidly expanding economy, with GDP growth of over 8% and so many opportunities that every month another friend of mine seems to join the "brain gain" of those quitting jobs in New York and London to return home. Few stories are written about the dynamic youth culture expressing itself on our new television and radio stations, or through underground events like the massive rave that took place in Lahore last month. Little is told of the excitement of those like my sister who teach in our universities and are witnessing dizzying increases in resources and enrollments.

Despite my reservations about the semi-democratic nature of Musharraf's regime, I am willing to give him credit for these positive developments. But I am also increasingly disturbed by some of his recent actions. First, he appeared to side with religious bigots opposed to a mixed-gender "mini-marathon" in Lahore and failed to condemn the police harassment of the race's supporters, including leading human-rights lawyer Asma Jahangir. Then he backed a travel ban on gang-rape victim Mukhtar Mai, preventing her from rallying support abroad for her cause. Under pressure from the U.S., the government has since granted her permission to leave Pakistan, though now that her case is being heard by the Supreme Court, she will stay for the duration.

I believe Musharraf is probably sincere in his desire for "enlightened moderation"—for, in other words, a more widely respected and tolerant Pakistan. But he is undermining this goal by failing to shed attitudes he has inherited from the Pakistan he wishes to leave behind.

Pakistan's appalling image today is the direct consequence of the systematic repression of basic civil liberties by governments throughout our history. This was first done under the guise of national security. My parents' generation lost their right to vote and to criticize the government because their rulers claimed that dissent would leave the country vulnerable to India. Then repression was done in the name of Islam. My generation lost the right to romance without fear of harassment, and the ability to express ourselves in theater or dance, because our rulers claimed they were protecting us from hell itself.

The arms of the state—the police, the military, the intelligence services, even the tax collectors and building inspectors—were encouraged to act as though we citizens of Pakistan required their permission for anything we wished to do. We could not ask an official: What power do you have to stop me? Instead, they asked us: What power do you have to proceed? Slowly, our economy, schools and cultural life collapsed. Many of those who could leave fled abroad. Many of those who could not leave became radicalized.

The rest of the world, watching the increasingly repressive and radical state Pakistan was becoming, formed a negative impression of the country. This will not be easy to dispel because it is partly based on reality. Changing the image will take time. But it can happen, because Pakistan is itself changing. With the relaxation of restrictions on economic activity, media and education, some of our civil liberties are being restored. We are already less repressed—and in less danger of radicalization—than we were only a few years ago.

The problem is that the instinct to curtail our freedoms remains, not least in Musharraf himself. Like rulers before him, he appears to have little regard for civil liberties when they conflict with his political objectives. Hence his willingness to act in what he calls the "national interest": initially denying a gang-rape victim the right to travel (she might reflect badly on Pakistan), or tolerating the roughing up of supporters of a mixed-gender race (presumably because he thinks Pakistan is not yet ready for such an event).

This attitude must change. Pakistan will be respected only when we respect our own people, and Pakistan will be tolerant only when we protect the nonviolent expression of all shades of opinion. "Enlightened moderation" cannot simply be dictated from above. It will have to take root below, and for that to happen, the government needs to cease renting out stolen civil liberties and restore them to their rightful owners—the people from whom they were taken without consent.

I remember being stopped at Lahore airport a couple of years ago. I had already passed through security, check-in and immigration. But there was a fourth hurdle to be cleared. A young army officer was taking our names to see if we were on the government's exit control list and therefore prohibited from traveling abroad.

"You're the guy who wrote that novel?" he asked me.

My heart pounded as I said, "Yes."

He looked at his computer. "Good job," he said finally, letting me through. "We need more writers."

It was a nice thing for him to say. But it did not obscure the fact that I wished he had not been there to stop me at all.

• Mohsin Hamid
• Pakistan is changing fast, but the instinct to curtail freedoms remains