Echoes of History — Unheeded in Pakistan
By Asim Imdad
ILQA Publications
ISBN: 978-969-640-338-8
303pp.

Asim Imdad Ali, the author, explaining the reason for writing Echoes of History — Unheeded in Pakistan, says that some readers of his earlier works, Circular History of Pakistan and Blind Spots in Pakistan’s History, posed “insightful” questions. “How long [has it] been like this, walking around in circles? The short answer: it has been like this for a while now… Are we the only ones trapped in such a political predicament? The short answer is, astonishingly, no.”

He seems to imply that, in Pakistan, instead of gaining objective lessons from history, we tend to beat around the bush and hide behind fables, while repeating our mistakes again and again.

Ali pursued postgraduate education at the School of Law at King’s College London, completed a master’s degree in Public Administration at the Harvard Kennedy School and served in the Pakistan Administrative Service.

The first thing that grabs the reader’s attention in Echoes of History is its outstanding English. In fact, while the highbrow, rich vocabulary and the substantial use of unique, uncommon diction make the book remarkable in the literary sense, on occasion it distracts the reader from the chain of the narrative, the flow of thought and the continuity of the case being made by the author, like a stream which disappears under the soil only to re-emerge on its subsequent course. To comprehend the articulation of arguments in this book requires effort, if not struggle, to connect the dots.

A recent book attempts to decode the patterns of power and politics in Pakistan by connecting these dynamics with examples from ancient and modern world history

Similarly, the proliferation of hundreds of impressive quotations — from William Shakespeare, Aristotle, Sigmund Freud, Niccolo Machiavelli, Rudyard Kipling, Sun Yat-sen, George Orwell, Victor Hugo, Karl Marx and innumerable others — is another challenge a reader has to confront to place the arguments in perspective vis-à-vis the book’s subject.

Notwithstanding the above remarks, Ali offers an uncommon perspective on history and mythology to describe the reverberations of history that have been disregarded in Pakistan, albeit in a hyperbolic manner. Although he often paraphrases what we mostly know in Pakistan and read all the time about the political culture and turmoil, he takes the trouble to connect these dynamics with patterns and examples from ancient and modern world history.

For instance, in a section titled ‘Cultology’, he discusses the fate of cult figures such as Adolf Hitler, who committed suicide along with his mistress, and Benito Mussolini, who was executed by Italian partisans and his body, along with that of his mistress, was hung upside down publicly at a petrol station in Milan.

It transpires, according to the author, that historically there is only one model of control: the ancient, classic one of ruling through the force of might, money and the authority of the state. The names and titles have been changing, but the general infrastructure remains an oligarchy of families, syndicates (mafias) and elitism.

“The generals and commanders in their uniforms (potentates), the politicians with their electoral badges, business barons with deep pockets and even deeper connections (princes), judges in their black robes and the media moguls wielding digitally empowered usernames (prelates), all serve as modern masks for age-old archetypes,” he writes.

Ali discerns that, despite evolving law, judiciary and justice in a state to replace violent revenge, states still resort to the old culture of violence. Man never changes his passions and desires. That is why he doesn’t learn from history, because he is not guided by knowledge and intellect but by his heart.

“Like many states, Pakistan is governed by an oligarchy of one percent (or even less),” he asserts. “Power remains lucratively locked in the hands of potentates, princes and prelates. The totem pole is clear: the men on horseback still hectoringly call the shots. This has been our core model of governance for centuries. We perform rituals of horizontal power shifts — new faces, same hierarchy.

“Some other groups have attempted veritable vertical redistribution to at least get a second chance (however fleeting) in the race of life. Not us. Our 99 percent is excluded from every critical decision. That is the root of public angst. If the meek have but a slim chance of inheriting the earth elsewhere, what hope do they really have in Pakistan? Perhaps even less — and should their turn come, it will likely arrive later than anywhere else.”

He describes well-known realities such as military rule behind elected governments, dynastic politics and the emergence of the business/industrial class as rulers, as well as the role of the judiciary as their collaborator. But in more flowery language and complicated diction.

In the chapter ‘No Revolution in Subcontinent’, Ali analyses why the Indian Subcontinent has never experienced a true revolution. He argues that there has never been a popular uprising that led to fundamental vertical change in societal structure and power dynamics. He differentiates a ‘revolution’ from revolts, rebellions, the toppling of monarchs and invasions. A revolution brings vertical changes, while the rest of the upheavals are basically horizontal shifts of power.

He believes three factors stand as the reason for the absence of a revolutionary “groundswell” in the history of the Indian Subcontinent. One, a lack of urban density due to the dominant, widely spread-out and loosely linked villages. Two, a superficial “transfer of power” at the time of decolonisation. And, three, a deeply held belief in predestination among the populace.

Referring to the French Revolution of 1789, he writes: “The distinction between revolts and revolutions may not carry the same weight that it once did for the king who lost his head over confusing the two [mistaking the revolution for a revolt], but it is crucial when evaluating underlying motives, manifestos and machinations of those who seek our consent, contribution and cash for their grand plans, proposals and policies.”

Echoes of History — Unheeded in Pakistan can be an effective academic textbook for higher studies in the history of power tussles. However, it may not be as handy for a general readership.

The reviewer is a freelance writer and translator.

He can be reached at mehwer@yahoo.com

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, April 12th, 2026

Trouble in the streets of Kuala Lumpur

This concerns the story “Trouble in the streets of Kuala Lumpur” by Huzaifa Shaikh (YW, February 21). The message in the story comes across in a slightly indirect way.

On the surface, it felt like a suspenseful and dramatic experience, but underneath that, it highlighted how quickly situations can change, especially when you are in an unfamiliar place.

The story showed that even in a city that seemed safe, beautiful and welcoming, one careless moment, like trusting a stranger too quickly, can lead to danger. It quietly reminds readers to stay alert and cautious, no matter where they are.

At the end, the sudden return home brought a sense of relief, almost as if the whole experience was a harsh wake-up call. It reflected the idea that home is a place of safety and comfort, something we often take for granted until we face something unpleasant.

Abdul Haadi
Karachi

II

I liked the story “Trouble in the streets of Kuala Lumpur” by Huzaifa Shaikh. The writer built an interesting atmosphere, especially with the details of the city, the food and the busy streets, which made the later incident in the story feel even more unexpected and dramatic.

The contrast between the peaceful description of Kuala Lumpur earlier and the sudden danger later was quite striking.

Bilal Hussain
Sukkur

More than the class joker

This is regarding the story “More than the class joker” by Mahnoor Sohail (YW, February 21). It was an interesting story that reflected how people are often judged by what is visible, like their humour, popularity or success. However, their real struggles remain hidden.

The writer reminded readers that behind someone’s smile there can be responsibilities, pain and sacrifices that others know nothing about. It also encouraged readers to be more understanding and less quick to assume that everyone’s life is easy.

Sara Nadeem
Islamabad

The amazing world of caves

I really loved reading the cover article “The amazing world of caves” by Shahmeer Asif (YW, February 28). The article was full of interesting information about caves that we hardly know about.

All the caves mentioned were so unique and one of a kind that I was amazed to learn about them. I request the YW team to publish more informative articles like this that tell us about unusual places around the world.

Jawad Ahmed
Sukkur

Published in Dawn, Young World, April 11th, 2026

You walk into a forest and there’s that deep, woody, earthy smell that just hits you. The fog, the dampness and that cool mist in the morning, and your senses pick them up immediately without you having to try. The air around you right now is doing the same thing. It could be your room, an air freshener you sprayed or just that heavy summer heat in the air. Whatever it is, the air is always giving you a sense of what’s around you.

But think about it on a bigger scale. That air didn’t just appear. It has been moving, over oceans, over deserts, through cities and over open fields. It has passed over places that are green, alive and beautiful. And it has also passed over dirty places, neglected ones and some that are literally burning.

Burning could mean wildfires, but it also includes places where wars are taking place. War is the most heinous crime on earth and should never happen in any way. It doesn’t just kill people. It destroys everything around them, too! The roads, the hospitals and the schools, all gone or damaged. Businesses shut down. Families fall apart. People who survived the bombs now can’t find work, can’t afford food and can’t access a doctor. The whole system, the everyday life, just collapses. And rebuilding takes not years, but generations.

For the past few decades, the severe effects of climate change on Earth is impossible to ignore; the heat is rising and things are not going back to normal. And now with the wars and bombardment in Palestine, Lebanon, Iran and the whole Middle East, things are just getting messier and going out of hand.

War doesn’t just destroy cities. Some of its worst effects travel quietly, through the air we breathe

Bombing and explosions do enormous damage to the environment. Ecosystems get destroyed and oil fields catch fire. All of this pumps more and more carbon into the air. The whole system that keeps life going on this planet is slowly breaking down. Humans, animals, plants, the soil under our feet, the water we drink and the air we breathe — all are suffering. None of this is winning anyone anything. The ones causing the destruction are not safe either.

What actually burns in a war?

In a regular house fire, it is wood, plastic and fabric that burn. The smoke is really bad, but it’s basically organic stuff: carbon, mostly. Your body can deal with ‘some’ of that. War is different. In wars, a fuel depot may get hit, a factory catches fire or military vehicles burn. Here, we are not dealing with wood and basic stuff anymore. The stuff in these includes plastics, heavy metals, industrial chemicals, rubber and electronics — things that were designed to ‘not to catch fire’, so when they do, what comes off them is seriously dangerous.

The scientific term for these particles is PM2.5: particulate matter that’s smaller than 2.5 micrometres. For comparison, a human hair is about 70 micrometres wide. Imagine how minuscule these particles can be; you can’t see them with your naked eye and a regular cloth mask basically does nothing to stop them from entering your respiratory tract. They go straight into your body and start irritating your lungs before you even know it.

Children and the elderly are more vulnerable and the damage is not immediately visible; it builds up silently. By the time a child starts coughing more than usual or gets tired too quickly, it is evident that their lungs just don’t work as well as they should; the harm was already done a long time ago.

The atmosphere has no checkpoints

When a massive fire starts, say, an oil refinery gets bombed and fire erupts, the heat doesn’t only push smoke sideways. It pushes it up, way up, high enough to reach what’s called the ‘jet stream’ (the term used in aviation), which is essentially a fast-moving river of air that circles the planet at high altitude. Once smoke gets up there, it can cover hundreds of kilometres in a single day.

Organisations like Nasa and the Conflict and Environment Observatory, track these plumes using satellites. During the early years of the war in Ukraine, when fuel depots were being hit, researchers could watch the resulting smoke clouds drift across the Black Sea and affect air quality in Turkey and Georgia. Not metaphorically, measurably. The numbers in those countries actually changed.

This is why even those countries that have no involvement in any conflict can wake up and see the sun looking pale orange or smell something faintly chemical in the air. It’s the effects of someone else’s war that quietly arrives at their doorstep.

Soot changes more than just the air

When you wear a black shirt in summer, many of you feel hot. And if you change to a white one, you immediately feel better. Why? Because black absorbs heat while white reflects it. The same thing happens in the sky. When war fills the air with black carbon, basically soot from burning fuel and chemicals, it acts the same way a black shirt does. It is the same physics but on a far bigger scale.

However, in the case of a shirt, you had the option to change, but in the case of the sky and environment, unfortunately, you alone cannot change them. That soot comes back down and falls on land, snow, ice, glaciers and mountain tops. Once soot covers snow or ice, it stops reflecting sunlight the way it normally would and starts soaking up heat instead. This causes it to melt way faster than it naturally should. For millions of people who depend on glacier and mountain snow as their only source of drinking water or water for agriculture, this is nothing short of a disaster.

When rain becomes a problem

Clean rain is one of the healthiest natural blessings. It rinses everything, fills rivers and gets absorbed in the ground. But when fuel depots catch fire, military equipment melts and factories burn, the air is then filled with sulphur and nitrogen. And when the rain falls, it picks these harmful chemicals up on the way down.

So what reaches the ground is not really clean rain. It arrives carrying something it shouldn’t. And that small contamination, over a few seasons, starts showing in the soil. Trees struggle to grow, lakes and ponds turn hostile to fish — they stop reproducing and smaller creatures also disappear. Recently, when it rained around various parts of the country, you might have heard your parents restricting you from playing or going out in the rain, because this was the main concern.

Blocked light, smaller harvests

Plants thrive in sunlight. That’s basic biology. What’s less obvious is how much difference even a small reduction in sunlight means to agriculture. Where there is heavy fighting, the air above becomes full of smoke and dust for months. That haze stays between the sun and the ground like a dirty sheet. The sunlight that gets through is weaker than it should be. Studies have found this can cut solar radiation by 10 to 20 percent in conflict areas.

Now that sounds like a small number until you think about what it means for a farmer. A farmer’s crops still grow, just not enough. And in farming, not enough is not a small problem. That 10 percent difference can be the line between a family eating properly and a family going short.

War’s damage doesn’t stay where the war is taking place. Right now, because of the conflict involving Iran, the Strait of Hormuz, the single most important oil route in the world is blocked. Pakistan is already facing the results. Fuel price has shot up. And when fuel goes up, everything becomes more expensive — flour, rice, vegetables, transport, local bus fare and the electricity bill. The war is taking place somewhere else, but the price hike is happening at our local market today!

What’s actually possible?

It would be dishonest to wrap this up with a simple action plan that makes it feel manageable, because the scale of it genuinely isn’t simple. But thankfully, now air quality monitoring has become more accessible. Apps like IQAir pull from a global network of sensors and give you real-time data on what you’re breathing.

Knowing what the air is like gives you a chance to protect yourself. You can choose to stay in, keep your windows closed and wear a proper mask that filters out PM2.5 when you do go out. None of this solves the bigger problem, but it does mean you’re breathing in a lot less of the harmful stuff every day.

We keep on pushing everyone to plant trees. Why? Because they are a gift to us from Mother Earth, they hold the earth and living things together. Don’t take them for granted. Trees clean the air around them. Of course, a few plants can’t undo years of pollution rising from industries and factories or even the aftermath of explosions, but they still make a real difference for the neighbourhood. The air right around those trees becomes cleaner, and this is what we actually want.

Why does this matter?

The atmosphere is shared. The sky above Karachi, Multan, Peshawar, Gaza, Tehran and Kyiv is all the same sky. What burns there reaches everywhere. But what we choose to know, talk about and demand change — that matters!

We are a generation that has access to information like no generation before us. We can see the satellite images. We can check the air quality on our phones. We can read the research; therefore, we must pay attention and do our part.

Clean air isn’t a luxury. It’s something we’re all meant to have. But right now, war is taking it away, not just from those living through it, but from all of us in ways we don’t always see. Maybe it’s time we stop treating it like someone else’s problem.

Published in Dawn, Young World, April 11th, 2026