- By: Air Cdre Pervez Akhtar Khan (Retd), PAF
Somewhere in the rain-swollen drains of DHA Islamabad, a car floated — then vanished. A retired Colonel and his young daughter were inside. A flash flood turned a street into a stream, and two lives were lost.
And yet, the deeper tragedy was still to come.
It came online.
In the comment threads.
In the grins masked as GIFs.
In the gloating over death .
A father and daughter died — and some celebrated.
This was not just callousness. This was cooked-in contempt, the kind that doesn’t blink when it mocks death. And before we turn our fingers outward, the establishment must pause and ask itself: How did we get here?
When the Public Doesn’t Mourn With You Anymore
The truth is bitter. The uniform once stood tall — respected, even revered. But now, across wide swathes of the country — especially among the youth of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Balochistan, and erstwhile FATA — it is increasingly seen with suspicion, even scorn. A tragedy like this no longer unites us in grief. It divides us in commentary.
Let’s not be naïve. This hatred did not drop from the sky like monsoon rain. It was built, brick by brick, over years of mistrust and mishandling.
And yes — some of it is earned.
The Unasked Question in the Highest Rooms
I spent my life in uniform — training warriors, not careerists. My brothers, all five of them, served the Army with quiet dignity. Retired Colonels, every one. Not power brokers. Just men who worked hard, followed orders, and came home tired.
So when I say this, it comes with no malice, only grief:
The Army has lost something. And the people know it.
The crackdown on political dissent. The silencing of voices. The ever-tightening grip on civilian space. The image of omnipotence has curdled into one of impunity.
And now, even the innocent deaths of its own are mocked.
From Reverence to Resentment — What Changed?
Not long ago, martyrdom meant something. Today, even a shaheed’s name is met with a shrug, or worse, a meme. Not because the people have turned evil — but because they feel unseen, unheard, and discarded.
What we’re witnessing is not just class rage. It’s the boiling over of accumulated betrayal — real or perceived.
A Word to Those Who Sit at the Long Table
This is not about abandoning pride. It is about earning back the grace we squandered.
Most in uniform are honest, disciplined, and deeply patriotic. I know this — because they’re my blood. But institutions are judged not by the goodness of individuals, but by the collective direction of their decisions.
If people no longer mourn with you, that is your problem, not theirs.
No amount of medals can substitute for moral authority. No amount of protocol can paper over lost credibility.
What Must Be Done — Before It’s Too Late
InSelf-reflection must now be louder than parade-ground commands. The next war is not just on the border — it’s for the soul of the Republic.
Because if we allow this hate to fester… if we let a child’s death become just another meme… then the erosion is not just institutional. It’s civilisational.
And no uniform — green, blue, or khaki — will be spared that reckoning.