For too long, Pakistanis have looked outward for enemies; India, America, Israel or conspiracies while pointing little blame inward. But our deepest problem is neither our neighbors nor any foreign power. It is a kind of national amnesia: a collective forgetting of our own talent, creativity and resilience. This psychological crisis is our real obstacle.
On every measurable front, we have performed dismally. Pakistan’s economy is hobbled by chronic imbalances. The World Bank reports that we still grapple with “recurrent fiscal and current account deficits, protectionist trade policies, unproductive agriculture and a difficult business environment” problems which remain largely unaddressed.
As a result growth has been “slow and volatile”. Poverty has soared once again, pushing over 42 percent of Pakistanis below the (US$3.65/day) poverty line in 2024. In a country of farmers, food insecurity and malnutrition persist, even as fields lie fallow for lack of innovation and investment.
Our social indicators are grim. Nearly one-third of school-age children are out of school and many who attend learn almost nothing. Our education system, too often focused on rote obedience, has failed to nurture thinkers and innovators. Instead of critical or creative thinking, students are trained to memorize and recite.
An inferiority complex sets in: every exam, every startup, every bright child seems a beat behind some foreign standard.
Meanwhile, polarization tears our communities apart. We cannot even agree on a narrative of what Pakistan is or should be. Civil society is divided among ethnic, sectarian and political lines, and the state allows little space for dissent or creative discourse.
Our institutions reflect these failures. Only 1.3% of Pakistan’s population paid income tax in 2024. This is not a mere statistic: it signals the collapse of civic responsibility. We fund our state with foreign loans and a tiny elite’s compliance, rather than a broad-based social compact. Year after year we run to the IMF to patch our deficits, with budgets crafted “to keep the IMF and investors happy, even if at a near-term cost to growth”.
Tax reforms are chosen for immediate relief (and to please external creditors), instead of for building a strong economy. Defense spending remains high, crowding out development, while subsidies prop up unproductive sectors.
But this is not an obituary. Pakistan has immense potential that we refuse to tap. Our people are clever, resourceful, and connected to their country in ways many nations envy. We have scientists, artists, and entrepreneurs rising against the odds. We have a demographic dividend: youth who could propel us forward if educated and empowered. The problem is that we’ve trained ourselves to look outward for solutions. We seek foreign loans, foreign plans and even foreign role models. We echo foreign media about our inferiority and corruption, and then treat those accounts as gospel truth.
What if we looked inward instead? Imagine aligning our purpose and policies with our true capacities. First, we must rebuild local productivity. Instead of importing what we can make, we should incentivize “Made in Pakistan” revitalize our factories, support small industries, and modernize agriculture with smart technologies. Second, we must rewire education.
Schools should teach civic values, ethics, and creative thinking, not just obedience.
If one-third of kids are out of school, we must make learning relevant and engaging so they want to stay. Third, food security has to be a national project: invest in drought-resistant crops, equitable land use, and infrastructure so no Pakistani family goes hungry.
In foreign policy, we need new horizons. Our so-called “loyalty” to outdated allies has cost us dearly; it’s time to forge relationships based on mutual benefit. Trade with emerging markets, collaboration in science and technology with neighbors, and a principled stance in international forums could break our isolation. We must welcome ideas, investments and technologies from all over the world, not just a privileged few. Building our strength will inspire the world to listen to us, instead of us begging to be heard.
Crucially, we must rebuild trust at home. We need a culture that rewards honesty and courage where telling the truth isn’t career suicide, where innovators are celebrated, not stifled. Civil society should flourish on fearless journalism, open debate and social entrepreneurship. Our artists and writers should be free to imagine a better future, instead of being silenced by fear. We rise on shared dreams, not shared debts. That is the moral imagination we need to restore.
Pakistan’s real enemy is not our rival across the border or some distant empire. It is the surrendering of hope, the belief that we cannot succeed. But this is a temporary state of mind, not an eternal fate. Nations have turned their fortunes around before Bangladesh went from refugee camps to an emerging economy, South Korea from war ruins to the world stage. There is nothing preordained about failure. Our strengths still exist: a young and growing population, a strategic location, a diasporic community ready to contribute.
What we need now is confidence and honesty about our failures, followed by collective determination to fix them.
It’s time to wake up that sleeping giant within us. Let us say openly: “We were built to rise.” A country can endure poverty, misfortune, and even temporary isolation. But no nation can survive if it forgets its own strength. Pakistan’s real crisis “forgetting that we can rise” can be overcome only when we believe again in what we, together, truly can achieve.
*The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of TDI.
