AS the term suggests, isolation wards in hospitals are meant to prevent contagious diseases from spreading. Patients cannot receive visitors, and ideally, the ward has its own ventilation system so that germs are not spread.

Countries, too, can be isolated if they are perceived by the international community as being sources of contagion in the form of violent, hate-filled ideology. Zealots and terrorists act as germs carrying this plague to other lands, so to safeguard themselves, others isolate the epicentre of the disease.

Increasingly, many Muslim countries viewed as breeding grounds of Islamic extremism are being placed on blacklists. Citizens of these states are finding it harder to obtain visas to enter a growing number of foreign destinations. And travel warnings are frequently issued to discourage outsiders from visiting these regions.

As walls grow higher, it becomes increasingly difficult for people from these two worlds to understand each other. I have been luckier than most in having travelled fairly widely and coming into contact with other faiths and cultures.

Over the years, I have crossed many borders, visited many cities, admired stunning buildings, and marvelled at dozens of historical sites. On my travels, I have eaten memorable meals, walked through miles of art galleries and many churches and temples. I have encountered friendship in unexpected places, and received kindness from strangers.

In Pakistan, too, I have met many foreigners, and some of them have remained friends for life. From them I have learned about different ways of seeing and doing things. Through these lifelong interactions, I have come to know something about the way the world works.

When I look back at how my life has been enriched by travel and meeting people from different parts of the world, I am deeply saddened by the knowledge that the vast majority of young Pakistanis no longer have these opportunities. Due to Pakistan’s toxic image, visas are increasingly hard to get.

And not just Pakistan. Other Muslim countries like Afghanistan, Somalia, Yemen, Nigeria, Iraq and Syria, among others, fall into the same category. Foreigners hardly ever visit these danger zones unless absolutely necessary.

As a result of this separation, perceptions and reality diverge. We are increasingly viewed as rabid zealots who wish to impose an unacceptable religious system on the rest of the world.

We, for our part, see the West as being Islamophobic, and unable to see that it is only a tiny minority of Muslims who are indulging in jihad.

But the truth is that it is not only the West that has placed us in an isolation ward: any Pakistani who has travelled in the Middle East will have noted the racism and xenophobia prevalent in Arab countries. But if they are reluctant to stamp our green passports with entry visas, it is because so many Pakistanis are engaging in jihad from Somalia to Syria.

Does this matter? Is it really important to walk through the Louvre Museum in Paris, see the paintings at London’s Tate Modern, or savour the many different cuisines the world has to offer? Are we any the poorer for not watching the sun set over the Bosporus, or rise over the Aegean Sea?

Many are quite happy to be in their comfort zone, surrounded by friends and family. For them, foreign experiences are full of unpleasant surprises. I was once with a group of senior civil servants and their spouses in Paris, and was dismayed to see them all troop off to a Pakistani restaurant for a meal.

As we turn increasingly inward, the rest of the world is moving on, unconcerned with us, excepting for the possibility of our contagious ideology being exported to other countries. We genuinely do not understand the consequences of our isolation: cut off from meaningful outside influences, we will stagnate and sink deeper into a swamp of ignorance and intolerance.

On a personal level, too, the cost of isolation is high. Our students are finding it harder than ever to get visas to study abroad. Foreign academics seldom venture to our shores. Our institutes of higher learning, already hard hit by extremism and intolerance, will see standards fall even lower.

And isolation carries an economic price tag as well. Foreign investment is hardly likely to flow into a country where overseas staff is in danger. As foreign citizens and legislators tire of pouring money into a country that hates them, donor fatigue is bound to set in.

Ultimately, it is not that the world does not sympathise with our plight: it’s just that it doesn’t see any evidence that we are doing anything about getting out of the hole we have dug for ourselves.

irfan.husain@gmail.com