Every person has a narrative. Most are inherited narratives of family, tribe or nationhood, some related from generation to generation, some reflected publicly in surnames, indicating a trade or a place of origin.

The Arabic tradition of kunyat, rather than referencing an ancestor, is forward-looking, honouring the next generation, adding abu [father of] or umm [mother of] a first-born son or daughter. It can also be a characteristic associated with the person, such as Abu Hurayra, “father of the kitten”, who was known for his love of cats.

Nicknames or pet names are given as a mark of affection or sometimes to distinguish between two persons of the same name, such as Saghir Lamba [tall] or Saghir Mota [fat]. Many of us grew up going to langrray ki dukaan [lame man’s shop], or had a relative called gori [fair-skinned] phupho.

Aliases may be used to disguise one’s true identity. The Victorian novelist Mary Ann Evans wrote books under the name of George Eliot to break into a male-dominated literary world. Blues singers and jazz musicians may be called Fats Domino or Blind Lemon Jefferson. The criminal world is filled with colourful names, such as Baby Face Nelson, the American bank robber, or Karachi’s own Kalu Current.

From personal nicknames to national identities, narratives shape how we see ourselves and how the world sees us. But can some of these imposed perceptions be changed?

On a more grandiose scale, Tipu Sultan became the Tiger of Mysore, William I became William the Conqueror, and Prince Salim became Emperor Jahangir.

However, the difficulty arises when one wants to change the narrative. This can be either because one has outgrown the previous identity or wants to dissociate from a group, or even an ancestry. Detractors of Pakistan’s first president, Iskander Mirza, referred to his descendancy from the infamous Mir Jafar.

For an individual, creating a new narrative may take time, but it is in their own control to a large extent. Many migrants to America anglicised names for greater acceptance. The actor Kirk Douglas was born Issur Danielovitch. Magician Harry Houdini was Erich Weisz and TV host Jon Stewart simplified his name from Jonathan Stuart Leibowitz.

For countries to change an imposed narrative is far more complex. Many African countries changed the names that were imposed during the colonial period. French Sudan became Mali, British East Africa became three countries: Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda. It has taken a genocide for Palestinian identity to be acknowledged.

The writer Allen Ginsberg said, “Whoever controls the media, the images, controls the culture.” The broad sweep of calling countries developed or under-developed, first, second or third world, global north or global south, ignores the narrative of individual countries. Identifying the Soviet Union, or now Russia, China, or Muslim nations as the bad boys of the world, is a controlled narrative.

Some countries have created their own successful narratives, such as Japan and Singapore. Japan erased its image as a defeated nation of World War II to become a global economic power, and Singapore went from a trading post of the East India Company to a global financial hub.

One of the most enduring ways to change the narrative of a country is through sharing its culture, and its art and literature. Cold War proponents would have us associate Russia with Lenin and Stalin, while it is really its writers, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Solzhenitsyn, the music of Rimsky Korsakov and the Bolshoi ballet, and artists Kandinsky, Malevich and Rodchenko, that have inspired the world.

Is Chile its rulers, Pinochet and Allende, or the poet Pablo Neruda? Is Colombia drug cartels or the novelist Gabriel Garcia Márquez? Are Latin American countries politically unstable, or the home of cha-cha-cha, rumba, samba, jive and salsa? Is Mexico a nation of would-be immigrants or artists such as Frieda Kahlo and Diego Rivera? No matter how often Modi violates human rights, India is seen as the land of Bollywood, ashrams and yogis.

America would have us believe the Cosa Nostra mafia of New York has been contained, but it has simply gone underground. Instead, Milton Glaser’s famous “I love NY” poster and Frank Sinatra’s song ‘New York, New York’ represent the city’s appeal. Europe has redefined itself as the champion of human rights, erasing its colonial past from school textbooks, and filling its cities with museums and performing arts.

Pakistan remains a globally diffident country, easy prey for believing the worst that is said of it. The suffix ‘-stan’, part of the name of seven countries including Pakistan, is used mockingly in fiction with names such as ‘Berzerkistan’. We laugh good naturedly at ourselves and add ‘Guppistan’ to the list.

The words of Manto, Iqbal, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Habib Jalib, N.M. Rashid, Bulleh Shah and the many love stories of every province in Pakistan remain largely unheard in the world, which sees Pakistan as a debt-ridden, politically dysfunctional country that harbours terrorists. Is it not time to take back the authorship? Is Pakistan ready to share its rich tapestry of crafts, music, literature and art with the world?

Durriya Kazi is a Karachi-based artist. She may be reached at durriyakazi1918@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, EOS, January 19th, 2025