Pakistan’s Pragmatic Path and the Paradox of Selective Outrage

Fatima Bhutto — novelist, columnist, and daughter of Mir Murtaza Bhutto — recently took to social media to express what she called “shame” over Pakistan’s current direction. Reacting to my article Pakistan’s Pragmatic Turn: The End of Extremist Politics, published in The Times of Israel, she wrote on X (formerly Twitter):

“I have never been so ashamed of my country. Shame on this government and shame on everyone who has not resigned to protest this historic betrayal. Pakistan, your name will forever carry this stain, not just in our hearts, but in the hearts and memories of millions of people in the world.”

I have never been so ashamed of my country. Shame on this government and shame on everyone who has not resigned to protest this historic betrayal. Pakistan your name will forever carry this stain, not just in our hearts, but in the hearts and memories of millions of people in… pic.twitter.com/U1XXs4jfhq

— fatima bhutto ???????????????? (@fbhutto) October 29, 2025

Her words were heavy with emotion — but strangely detached from reality. What’s puzzling, however, is what exactly provoked such shame. Was it Pakistan’s decision to adopt a pragmatic foreign policy? Its resolve to curb militancy and outlaw extremist groups? Or the willingness to participate in international peacekeeping — a tradition that has earned Pakistan respect worldwide?

Like many of the so-called “leftist intellectuals,” Fatima Bhutto’s outrage seems selective. When extremist organizations mushroomed across the country, receiving patronage and funding, where was this shame? When Pakistan faced diplomatic isolation and economic collapse, where was this conscience? When violence, intolerance, and chaos scarred our society — not a word of condemnation. But now, as Pakistan moves in the right direction, curbing extremism and re-engaging with the international community, this group suddenly feels “ashamed.”

If you go through the timelines of these self-styled leftists, you will find endless propaganda — selective outrage, distorted images, and performative grief over Israeli actions in Gaza. Yet, not a word against Hamas — the group that started this war, the one responsible for bloodshed on both sides. Even after the ceasefire, when Hamas publicly executed Palestinians accused of “collaboration,” these moral guardians remained silent. Not a single condemnation. Their hypocrisy is astonishing — compassion without courage, rhetoric without responsibility.

Pakistan today stands at a strategic crossroads. The idea of joining the International Stabilisation Force (ISF) in Gaza, alongside Indonesia and Azerbaijan, and standing with the international community reflects a mature, forward-looking approach. It is not about taking sides — it is about taking responsibility. The ISF’s role is to stabilize Gaza, disarm militants, protect border crossings, make the Middle East peaceful, and facilitate humanitarian relief under a transitional Palestinian authority. For Pakistan, this is both a moral duty and a strategic necessity.

To be a respected player in the Middle East, Pakistan must be on speaking terms with both Israel and Palestine. That’s what diplomacy demands. It’s not betrayal; it’s balance. Those at the helm of affairs — elected representatives taking the military leadership on board— has both the mandate and the jurisdiction to define foreign policy. This is governance, not capitulation.

Fatima Bhutto, with her political background and family legacy, knows this well. If she and her brother — who is preparing to launch a new political party — believe in a radical, isolationist path that rejects Pakistan’s engagement with the modern world, they are free to present that vision to the people. But I doubt Pakistanis will vote for regression. The voters of today’s Pakistan want progress, stability, and international respect — not a return to the medieval politics of isolation and perpetual grievance.

What’s happening now is not betrayal — it’s evolution. Pakistan is moving from symbolism to substance. Its foreign policy, under Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and Field Marshal Asim Munir, reflects an alignment rarely seen before: pragmatic, measured, and future-focused. Islamabad understands that real influence comes from participation, not protest.

If Pakistan joins the Gaza peace mission, it won’t be as a combatant but as a peacekeeper — helping rebuild, stabilize, and secure a war-torn region. That is in line with our legacy: over 200,000 Pakistani troops have served in more than 40 UN peace missions worldwide. This is not new; it’s consistent with who we are — a responsible, respected contributor to global peace.

The irony is that those crying “betrayal” now had no shame when Pakistan was crippled by extremism. But as soon as the state asserts control, restores order, and reclaims dignity, they find reasons to be embarrassed. Perhaps because this new Pakistan leaves little room for their outdated narratives of victimhood.

The world is changing — and Pakistan is changing with it. We are learning that diplomacy is not surrender, and engagement is not compromise. The shame is not in choosing peace — it is in refusing to evolve.

Fatima Bhutto’s outrage may earn her applause from her echo chamber, but Pakistan’s future will be shaped by those who choose responsibility over rhetoric. Our voters, increasingly aware and pragmatic, know the difference. They are done with romanticized radicalism. They want a Pakistan that acts — not one that complains.

If joining the Gaza peace force helps Pakistan reclaim respect, stability, and global relevance, then this is not a stain — it is called scrupulousness, straighten (up), upliftment.
A statement that Pakistan is ready to lead, not lag.
Ready to engage, not isolate.
And ready, finally, to move from rhetoric to responsibility.