By Latif Jamal
One of the greatest tragedies of our collective history is that we have repeatedly been ruled by individuals who see themselves not as guardians of the state, but as its owners. Rulers who treat the people as subjects and themselves as masters. Instead of wisdom, they practice arrogance; instead of humility, they display pride. Their hearts are not made of compassion but of stone. Justice lies crushed beneath their feet, while mercy remains absent from their political vocabulary. Their minds, much like their appetites, are filled with unchecked greed. For them, welfare and development are nothing more than transactions designed to serve personal interests.
Such rulers often speak eloquently about humanity, democracy, and rights, yet remain prisoners of ambition, lust for power, and material gain. Expecting genuine reform from such a ruling elite is an illusion. History repeatedly shows that when a ruling class prioritizes its own survival and profit, it does not hesitate to sacrifice the collective interests of entire nations.
It has often been attributed—whether to Einstein or another thinker—that the world is dangerous not only because of bad people, but because good people remain silent in the face of injustice. When those who recognize exploitation choose silence, oppressive systems flourish. If principled citizens collectively raise their voices against wrongdoing, even the most powerful structures of exploitation can collapse.
History offers powerful lessons. When French society grew weary of centuries of feudal oppression, new liberal, secular, democratic, and socialist ideas emerged. These ideologies shattered the idols of feudalism and reshaped political consciousness. In contrast, feudalism in medieval Europe was deeply intertwined with the Catholic Church, where popes wielded both spiritual and political authority, portraying themselves as earthly representatives of God. Eventually, this concentration of power was dismantled—not by moral persuasion alone, but by political resistance and structural transformation, most notably during the reign of King Henry VIII.
While a detailed comparison of European feudalism would require extensive discussion, its social and political consequences bear striking similarities to the current conditions in Sindh. A common argument today is that Sindh’s governance and institutions should be controlled by those who belong to Sindh and speak the Sindhi language. In principle, this demand is valid and largely uncontested. Without local ownership of governance, the restoration of Sindh’s cultural identity and historical dignity remains impossible.
However, ownership and control are not merely symbolic or linguistic matters. They are deeply tied to sovereignty, freedom, and self-determination. Throughout history, nations deprived of control over their land, resources, and institutions have suffered political, cultural, and economic marginalization. When external forces—or internal exploitative elites—control a nation’s resources, progress becomes impossible.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau famously wrote in The Social Contract: “Man is born free, yet everywhere he is in chains.” He further argued that when rulers ignore public interest and ownership rights, they obstruct freedom and national development. But a far more dangerous situation arises when local elites themselves become brokers of national resources, facilitating external exploitation in the name of local representation. Such actors are more harmful than foreign plunderers because they operate under the guise of legitimacy.
The history of the Indian subcontinent offers a clear example. Before British colonization, political authority and economic autonomy existed, albeit weakened by internal conflicts. The East India Company exploited these divisions masterfully. As historian James Talboys Wheeler notes in India Under British Rule, the Company rarely attacked strong adversaries directly. Instead, it formed covert alliances with dissatisfied local rulers and elites.
British domination was not achieved solely through military power or administrative efficiency. Historians such as William Dalrymple, P.J. Marshall, R.C. Majumdar, and Stanley Wolpert agree that British success stemmed largely from local collaboration, internal rivalries, and elite betrayal driven by personal interests. Indian princes, nobles, and ministers surrendered sovereignty piece by piece in exchange for protection, wealth, and privilege. The Battle of Plassey in 1757 stands as a symbol of how collaboration enabled conquest.
This historical reality exposes a critical truth: merely placing locals in positions of authority does not guarantee protection of national resources. Real sovereignty exists only when power rests with the true stakeholders—the people—not with a facilitative elite serving external interests.
The same pattern is visible wherever national interest is subordinated to personal gain. When local rulers are ready to mortgage land and resources to foreign interests, when political alliances are built on self-interest rather than collective welfare, national autonomy becomes blurred and fragile. Such actions are as destructive as direct foreign occupation.
Colonial Africa offers another grim lesson. British and French empires seized control of land, minerals, and agriculture in countries like Nigeria, Kenya, and Zambia. Indigenous populations were stripped not only of resources but also of political voice and economic autonomy, resulting in poverty, displacement, and social fragmentation. In Colonialism and Its Legacies, scholars emphasize that colonialism was not merely political rule but a systematic seizure of identity, economy, and sovereignty—often facilitated by local collaborators.
Similarly, in South America during Spanish and Portuguese colonization, indigenous resistance was suppressed through alliances with local elites and tribal leaders. Entire civilizations lost land, culture, and autonomy due to internal collaboration combined with imperial ambition.
Frantz Fanon, in The Wretched of the Earth, rightly observed that imperial powers maintain control by activating local intermediaries—chiefs, elites, and institutions—who legitimize exploitation from within.
To understand the current power structure in Sindh, one must analyze this historical pattern of collaboration. Linguistic identity or provincial origin alone is not a safeguard. True ownership lies in control over resources, land, and decision-making authority. Political facilitation that enables exploitation—regardless of who performs it—is an act of hostility towards Sindh.
Sindh cannot be protected through hollow slogans or symbolic representation. Nations survive through real sovereignty over their resources. When local rulers act as facilitators for exploitative forces, they become as dangerous as external oppressors. Genuine freedom requires sustained political struggle and collective ownership.
As revolutionary leader Amílcar Cabral once stated: “Freedom is only possible when people become owners of their country’s resources.”
Any facilitation that enables plunder—whether by outsiders or local elites—is fundamentally anti-Sindh. And recognizing this truth is the first step toward genuine resistance and self-determination.
