Barrister Usnman Ali , Ph.D.
“When fear appears in the eyes of the Pashtuns, you will behave. And when they rise in madness, you’ll see your torn collar.”
These words were delivered with fiery zeal by Sohail Afridi, the newly elected Chief Minister of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa , who proudly anointed himself the “champion of protests.” But his speech wasn’t just charged rhetoric ,it was a warning, a calculated message aimed at the state and its institutions. And yet, this language is not new. For generations, the same slogans, the same emotional appeals, the same glorification of “bravery,” “honour,” and “loyalty” have been used to mobilize and manipulate Pashtuns. Time and again, their emotions were weaponized. And once the objective was achieved, they were abandoned, wounded, forgotten, and left to rebuild from ruins.
People don’t vote to be dragged into street battles or endless agitation. They vote for governance, stability, and solutions. When a political party scrapes together 30 to 35 percent of the vote and forms a government, it does not inherit a blank cheque to rule unchecked. It must also respect the 65 percent who didn’t vote for it. Unfortunately, for over a decade, this principle has been ignored in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI), even while in government, never shed its oppositional skin. It preferred confrontation over governance, slogans over systems, and internal feuds over institutional reform. The result has been a steady erosion of the provincial administrative structure and public trust.
A responsible party would have chosen a leader who is honest, mature, visionary, capable of governance, and deeply connected to the people ,not a protest mascot. A real leader is one who champions reconciliation, peace, development, and prosperity. Upon taking office, their first mission should be to restore transparent governance, build merit-based systems, uphold the rule of law, and free institutions from political interference. Progress begins when governments focus on education, health, economic opportunity, infrastructure, social welfare, and digital transformation ,not on perpetual conflict. Visionary leadership thinks in decades, not election cycles. But in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, political leadership trapped in its own ego has repeatedly chosen protest champions who achieve nothing themselves and prevent others from doing so. This is how societies slide further into underdevelopment.
The Pashtun experience is not one of simple neglect , it’s one of systematic exploitation. Their homeland has, for centuries, been the arena for other people’s wars. Whether for the interests of the British Empire, local rulers, or global powers, Pashtun courage has been used as a shield and their bodies as battlegrounds. They raised slogans, proved loyalty, sent their sons to war, and the outcome remained the same: broken homes, impoverished lands, and blood-soaked soil.
During the British Raj, the Pashtun belt became a buffer zone to secure imperial frontiers. Declared a “martial race,” they were recruited as soldiers to fight Britain’s wars. When those wars ended, they were cast aside. Independence only changed the faces, not the logic. The appeals ,to tribe, faith, honour, loyalty, were recycled. Others made the decisions; Pashtuns paid the price.
The 1980s marked another cycle. When the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan, Pashtun youth were handed guns in the name of jihad and told they were making history. They fought. They died. Millions were displaced. Their land became a pawn on a global chessboard. And when the war ended, the world simply turned away. No schools. No hospitals. No jobs. One war ended; another kind of subjugation began.
The persistent underdevelopment of Pashtun areas is not a natural condition. It is the product of deliberate neglect. Even today, many communities lack clean drinking water, proper roads, functioning schools, and healthcare systems. This deprivation is structural , a way to keep a population undereducated, dependent, and easily manipulated. When people are denied education and opportunity, slogans become more powerful than reason. It becomes easy to rally them around emotions, to turn their loyalty into someone else’s political capital.
Another uncomfortable truth lies within Pashtun political culture itself: a historic tendency to trust personalities rather than build institutions. Tribal chiefs, religious leaders, politicians, warlords, and now cult figures, have commanded blind loyalty. These figures inflamed emotions in the name of honour and sacrifice, but when real danger came, they fled, leaving their followers behind to face the consequences. That is why institutions never took root, systems never matured, and the nation stands frozen in place , century after century.
History is crowded with such betrayals. The British used Pashtuns as soldiers of empire. Afghan rulers used their blood to cement power. Pakistani elites pushed them forward to serve their own ends. Global powers armed them during the Cold War, then overnight transformed them from “mujahideen” to “terrorists.” No one came back to rebuild their homes. No one invested in their children’s future.
And yet, many continue to follow slogans blindly, chasing one “saviour” after another. The enemy isn’t always external. It often lives in the culture of uncritical obedience that keeps delivering them to the edge of disaster. The world has changed. Nations rise not through guns and slogans, but through education, economic strength, and strong institutions. While others built universities, Pashtuns were handed rifles. While others built industries, they were thrown into wars. Courage is noble ,but without knowledge and progress, it serves others, not oneself.
The time has come for the Pashtuns to look inward, to learn from their past, and to break free from the chains of empty slogans. Education, strong institutions, self-respect, and awareness are the foundations of true power. No external force will carve their destiny for them. If they continue to follow hollow rhetoric and false messiahs, the outcome will be the same: destroyed homes, ruined lands, and despair. But if they reclaim their agency , if they transform raw emotion into informed consciousness , they can bend the course of history.
“My greatest sin is that I am a Pashtun.” This lament has echoed for too long. But it is not destiny. Destiny belongs to those who choose to change it.
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