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10/04/2026

After the Ceasefire:

Power, Perception, and the Unfinished Contest for Global Order

Mubasher Mir

The fragile ceasefire that followed the recent confrontation involving Iran, United States, and Israel has not brought closure; rather, it has exposed deeper fractures in the evolving architecture of global power. Wars rarely end where they appear to stop. Instead, they shift arenas—from battlefields to diplomacy, from missiles to markets, from overt confrontation to strategic recalibration. What unfolded in this conflict—and particularly how it ended—reveals not just military outcomes but the changing limits of influence, legitimacy, and global leadership.
At the heart of the crisis was a stark reality: the constraints on American power in a multipolar world. The diplomatic resistance from China and Russia—especially through veto mechanisms in international forums—underscored that unilateral action no longer guarantees uncontested dominance. This was not merely a procedural setback; it symbolized a structural shift.
For decades, the United States operated with a degree of strategic latitude that allowed it to shape outcomes across regions. Today, that space is increasingly contested.

The absence or hesitancy of traditional Western allies further complicated the situation. While European actors, including the European Union and United Kingdom, have historically aligned with Washington on major security questions, their cautious distance during this escalation signaled a recalibration of priorities. Domestic pressures, economic vulnerabilities, and war fatigue have made many Western societies less willing to support prolonged external conflicts—especially those perceived as lacking clear moral or legal justification under international norms.
This raises a deeper question: was the conflict purely about immediate security concerns, or was it part of a broader strategic contest? Increasingly, analysts interpret such confrontations through the lens of great-power competition—particularly the United States’ long-standing objective to contain the rise of China. In this context, regions like the Middle East and South Asia are not isolated theatres but interconnected nodes in a larger geopolitical chessboard.
China’s ascent has been defined not only by military modernization but, more significantly, by its focus on political economy—trade networks, infrastructure investment, and long-term energy security. Initiatives such as the Belt and Road have allowed Beijing to build influence without direct confrontation. Countries rich in energy resources, including Iran and Venezuela, have become crucial partners in this strategy. Any instability affecting these states inevitably reverberates through China’s economic planning.
From this perspective, the pressure on Venezuela and Iran can be interpreted as part of a broader attempt to disrupt or at least complicate China’s energy lifelines. Whether intentional or incidental, the effect is similar: instability weakens reliability, raises costs, and forces strategic recalculations. Yet, such approaches carry risks. They may provoke counter-alignments, deepen global polarization, and accelerate the very multipolarity they seek to manage.
The idea of “proxy balancing” also features prominently in contemporary geopolitical discourse. In South Asia, India has been seen by some as a counterweight to China, while Israel plays a similar role in the Middle East. However, proxy dynamics are rarely stable. Regional actors have their own interests, domestic constraints, and strategic cultures. Their actions cannot always be predicted or controlled by external powers.
The recent tensions between India and Pakistan illustrate this complexity. While narratives of victory and defeat vary depending on perspective, the broader lesson is that escalation in nuclear-armed regions carries immense risks with limited strategic payoff. Similarly, Israel’s confrontation with Iran demonstrates that even technologically advanced militaries face significant challenges when engaging adversaries capable of asymmetric and regional responses.
One of the most controversial aspects of the recent conflict was the reported operation near Isfahan. While details remain contested, the perception of failure—whether operational, strategic, or communicative—had tangible consequences. In modern warfare, perception can be as decisive as reality. A mission seen as unsuccessful can erode credibility, embolden adversaries, and weaken domestic support.
And domestic support is crucial. Democracies, in particular, cannot sustain prolonged military engagements without public backing. Reports of growing opposition within the United States, protests, and political polarization suggest that the conflict did not command unanimous support. The leadership of Donald Trump faced increasing scrutiny, with critics arguing that the administration had entered a high-stakes confrontation without sufficient consensus or clarity of objectives.
History offers consistent lessons on this point: wars fought without public legitimacy tend to become politically unsustainable. The Vietnam War, the Iraq War, and Afghanistan all demonstrated how domestic dissent can reshape foreign policy. In this case, the combination of limited international support and growing internal criticism placed the administration on the defensive—both strategically and politically.
Yet, it would be premature to conclude that the underlying objectives have disappeared. The strategic concern regarding China’s rise remains central to American policy thinking across administrations. What may change, however, is the method. Direct confrontation carries high costs and uncertain outcomes. Economic competition, technological rivalry, and alliance-building may offer more sustainable pathways.
The comparison often drawn between American “military economy” and Chinese “political economy” is instructive, though somewhat simplified. The United States still possesses unmatched military capabilities and significant economic influence. China, meanwhile, has leveraged state-led development and global integration to expand its reach. The contest between them is not merely about power but about models—how influence is built, sustained, and legitimized.
This brings us to a broader ethical question: the use and abuse of power. International norms, enshrined in institutions like the United Nations, emphasize sovereignty, non-intervention, and peaceful resolution of disputes. Yet, these principles are frequently tested—sometimes violated—by states pursuing strategic interests. When power is exercised without accountability, it undermines not only immediate stability but also the credibility of the global system itself.
Condemning power abuse is not about assigning blame to one actor alone. It is about recognizing a pattern that transcends individual conflicts. Whether it is preemptive strikes, economic coercion, or political interference, actions that disregard international law erode trust and fuel cycles of retaliation. In a world increasingly defined by interdependence, such approaches are not only unethical but also counterproductive.
The fear of a prolonged “new Cold War” between the United States and China is therefore not unfounded. Unlike the 20th-century Cold War, however, this rivalry is deeply embedded in global economic networks. Decoupling is neither easy nor entirely desirable. Similarly, regional rivalries—Israel-Iran, India-Pakistan—risk becoming entrenched, creating parallel fault lines that reinforce global tensions.
Energy security adds another layer of complexity. The world remains heavily dependent on stable energy supplies, and disruptions—whether due to conflict, sanctions, or political instability—have global repercussions. Rising prices, supply shortages, and economic uncertainty affect not just major powers but also developing nations already struggling with inflation and debt.
In this context, the path to peace requires more than ceasefires. It demands a rethinking of strategies. For the United States, this may mean reassessing approaches that rely heavily on coercion or unilateral action. For emerging powers like China, it involves balancing expansion with responsibility. For regional actors, it requires prioritizing stability over escalation.
Diplomacy, though often slow and imperfect, remains the most viable tool for managing complex conflicts. Inclusive dialogue, respect for sovereignty, and adherence to international law are not abstract ideals; they are practical necessities. Without them, the world risks drifting into a cycle of perpetual confrontation.
The recent conflict, therefore, should not be seen as an isolated episode but as a warning. It highlights the limits of power, the importance of legitimacy, and the dangers of strategic overreach. It also underscores a simple yet profound truth: no government, no matter how powerful, can sustain a war indefinitely without the support of its people and the acceptance of the international community.
As the dust settles, the choices made by global leaders will determine whether this ceasefire becomes a stepping stone toward stability or merely a pause before the next crisis. The stakes are not confined to any one region; they are global. In an era defined by interconnected risks—from conflict to climate change—cooperation is not a luxury. It is an imperative.
The world stands at a crossroads. Power can be used to dominate or to stabilize, to divide or to connect. The direction chosen will shape not only the future of international relations but the prospects for peace itself.

07/04/2026

Karachi - Political Diary - Mubashir Mir

Karachi has witnessed a significant acceleration in development activities, reform initiatives and public relief policies in recent days under the leadership of Syed Murad Ali Shah. Through various meetings, visits and policy decisions, the Sindh government has made it clear that its focus is on improving infrastructure, economic stability and providing public amenities.

The Sindh Chief Minister paid a surprise visit to the city’s important development projects, accompanied by Sharjeel Inam Memon, Nasir Hussain Shah, Mukesh Kumar Chawla and Murtaza Wahab. On this occasion, the progress of the Azeem Pura Flyover project was reviewed, which is nearing completion. According to the briefing, 45 percent of the work of the 700-meter-long flyover has been completed in just 27 days. The completion of the project is expected to significantly improve traffic flow at the city’s main intersection.

The Chief Minister also inspected the Shahrah-e-Bhutto project and directed that the pace of development works be further accelerated. He said that in a big city like Karachi, solving traffic problems is essential on priority basis and no delay will be tolerated.

The Sindh cabinet meeting approved a large-scale reform and development measures. These include surveying of slum areas using modern technology, which aims to eliminate land disputes and strengthen state governance. About Rs705 million has been allocated for the project and it will be completed through satellite imagery and GIS mapping.

To address Karachi’s long-standing water crisis, Rs13.9 billion was approved for the power infrastructure of the K-4 project. This move will help improve the water supply system in the city. Similarly, it was decided to purchase one million metric tons of wheat under the wheat procurement policy and keep prices stable, which will benefit both farmers and consumers.
Significant progress was also made in the infrastructure sector, including the construction and repair of roads, rehabilitation of flood-affected areas, and improvement of basic amenities in areas such as Lyari. Major projects were also approved in the education, health, and tourism sectors, including modern museums, expansion of educational institutions, and establishment of new health facilities.
The government has directed to expedite the process of providing financial assistance to the victims of the Gul Plaza tragedy. So far, 61 affected families have been compensated while hundreds of shopkeepers have also been provided financial assistance. The Chief Minister stressed on ensuring transparency and timely payment in this process and sought a plan for the reconstruction of the market.
The Sindh government's performance has also been appreciated at the global level. The World Bank expressed satisfaction over the progress on projects worth $4.1 billion, especially solid waste management and transport projects, which were considered important. Projects like the BRT Yellow Line and Jam Chakro Landfill will play an important role in the modernization of the city.

Regarding public relief, the Sindh government has introduced a major subsidy package of Rs 55 billion, which aims to reduce the impact of rising fuel prices. Under this, financial assistance will be provided to motorcycle owners, transporters and small farmers. At the same time, it was decided to keep transport fares frozen so that there is no additional burden on the public.

Additionally, a targeted fuel subsidy program has been introduced, which will provide affordable travel facilities to millions of passengers. Under this program, transporters will be provided financial assistance so that they can continue their services without increasing fares.
Overall, the focus of the Sindh government's recent policies and initiatives is public relief, infrastructure improvement, and economic stability. If these projects continue to be implemented with the same speed and transparency, new possibilities for development and facilities can arise in the entire province, including Karachi.
If you look at it, the government seems busy, but the public's problems remain the same. When provincial governments do not make the local government system effective, the public will remain in exile.

The Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) protested outside the Karachi Press Club against rising inflation and the hike in prices of petroleum products in Karachi, which was stopped by the police. The central areas of the city were blocked with containers, disrupting normal life and creating a curfew-like situation in many places. The police used shelling and baton charging to disperse the protesters, while more than thirty people, including women activists, were arrested.

The protest was led by Haleem Adil Sheikh and other leaders, who strongly criticized the government, describing inflation as the highest in history. They said that petrol, flour, sugar and other essential commodities have become out of reach of the common man, while economic pressure is continuously increasing.

On the other hand, the immediate effects of the increase in petrol prices were also evident on Karachi's transport. The fares of rickshaws and motorcycle services increased by an unannounced Rs. 20 to Rs. 150, while the monthly expenses of motorcycle riders were recorded to increase by thousands of rupees. Citizens say that transport costs have increased but salaries have remained the same, which is increasing financial difficulties.

In view of this situation, Syed Murad Ali Shah has said that more than 6.6 million motorcycles are registered in the province and the government will provide subsidy during April itself. He said that after consultation with the transporters, public relief measures are being taken to provide convenience to the low-income group.
Subsidies are not the solution to the problem, fuel prices should be reduced for everyone.
Zulfikar Ali Bhutto's death anniversary is observed every year on April 4 with great devotion and political fervor. He was hanged in Rawalpindi Jail on April 4, 1979, during the rule of General Zia-ul-Haq, which is considered a controversial and significant event in the history of Pakistan.
This incident still has a profound impact on the country's politics 47 years later. Bhutto is remembered as a popular leader who gave the slogan of "bread, cloth and house" and gave the country the 1973 Constitution, which remains the basic constitutional framework of Pakistan today.

Every year on his death anniversary, rallies, prayers, and political speeches are held, where workers pay tribute to his services. Bhutto's figure still lives on as a powerful symbol in Pakistani politics.

15/03/2026

SriLanka

Talk about China Part 7Eid in Beijing and Diplomacy in MotionThe restaurant’s Wi-Fi was flawless, an unexpected blessing...
13/12/2025

Talk about China
Part 7

Eid in Beijing and Diplomacy in Motion

The restaurant’s Wi-Fi was flawless, an unexpected blessing that allowed everyone in our delegation to connect with loved ones back home in Pakistan. These were the days of Eid-ul-Adha, and although thousands of miles separated us from our families, the spirit of the occasion flowed through video calls and warm greetings. Since the Covid-19 pandemic, the “online” mode of life—once merely an option—has become an embedded part of our daily reality. Across Pakistan, the ritual sacrifice was in full swing: the descendants of Hazrat Adam fulfilling the Sunnah of Hazrat Ibrahim (A.S.), offering animals in remembrance of the great trial.

Yet, as we reflected on the meaning of Sunnah Ibrahimi, a deeper truth emerged. We Muslims, in practice, have confined it largely to the sacrifice of animals, forgetting that the first act of Imam-ul-Anbiya (S.A.W.) in Makkah was to shatter the idols. Allama Iqbal, in his timeless verse, lamented:

(“Though there are idols in the bosom of the congregation, I am commanded to proclaim the call.”)

Today, many “idols” remain—idols not of stone, but of fear, power, and submission to the unjust. These silent tyrannies keep our tongues tied before oppression. The plight of Palestine stands as a stark testament: the fear within Muslim rulers, like invisible chains, prevents them from tasting the fruits of true freedom. If we truly understood the spirit of Sunnah Ibrahimi, we would muster the courage to break not only stone idols but also the towering idols of falsehood and injustice that haunt our age.

That morning, our convoy departed for an important engagement at the Chinese Foreign Office. Punctuality, as our guides Mr. Jason and Miss Tong reminded us, was non-negotiable. As head of the delegation, I would open the conversation, followed by contributions from colleagues: Dr. Muhammad Ali Ehsan, a seasoned scholar of China-Russia relations; Ahmed Malik, focusing on economics; and Shama Munshi, eager to speak on Pakistan-China cooperation.

The meeting room awaited us—neat, understated, and formal. A senior officer of the Foreign Office arrived with a junior aide. Both wore masks, but soon decided to remove them, allowing for clearer exchange. We addressed concerns circulating in Pakistan about the slowing pace of the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC). The officials dismissed such talk as political noise. Contrary to speculation, they assured us that key projects—particularly in Gwadar and several other cities—were progressing satisfactorily.

I raised a personal concern: the Pakistan-China Friendship Centre in Islamabad. A gift from the Chinese people, it had regrettably been commercialized by our own authorities. Cultural, academic, and literary programs—once envisioned as public treasures—were now priced beyond the reach of ordinary citizens. The senior official smiled knowingly as his aide noted down my words. What comes of it, time will tell.

The conversation broadened to geopolitics. The official pointed out, with quiet pride, that we were sitting in the very building where China had brokered the landmark peace agreement between Saudi Arabia and Iran in March 2023. For the Muslim world, and for Pakistan in particular, this was no small achievement. Years of hostility between these two powers had bled into our own society—fueling sectarian tension, targeted killings, and instability along our western borders. Economically, too, Pakistan had paid the price. The Saudi-Iran détente, mediated by China, was thus a diplomatic milestone of immense significance.

By bringing the two sides to the table, China had not only resolved a deep-seated regional rift but also demonstrated that partnership with Iran need not antagonize the Arab world. Soon after, Chinese investment flowed into Saudi Arabia, while a long-term strategic partnership agreement with Iran gained renewed momentum. In the language of diplomacy, it was a masterstroke.

Our exchange of questions and ideas continued in a cordial atmosphere. The meeting, originally expected to be purely formal, became an engaging and fruitful dialogue. At first, we were told a group photo might not be possible, but as the rapport deepened, Nauman made the request and it was granted. We gathered in the courtyard, the Foreign Office façade behind us, and captured the moment. Miss Tong, mindful of the ticking clock—the daily press briefing was about to start—hurried the session along. The cameras clicked, hands were shaken, and we made our way toward the adjoining hall.

The day had begun with Eid greetings over Wi-Fi and ended with the building of bridges in diplomacy. It was a reminder that while distance can separate bodies, shared purpose—whether in faith or in friendship—has the power to close even the widest of gaps.

Talk about China – Part 6Beautiful BeijingOur journey from Peking University continued at a steady pace, the mood light ...
28/11/2025

Talk about China – Part 6

Beautiful Beijing

Our journey from Peking University continued at a steady pace, the mood light and hearts lifted after a day rich with impressions. Dr. Muhammad Ali, Ahmed Malik, Shabbar Naqvi, Shama Munshi, Rukhsar Mujahid, Javed Malik, and even the usually reserved Noman engaged in thoughtful exchanges about the Urdu and Pakistan Studies Centre we had just visited. The evening meal awaited us at the hotel — a fusion of Chinese flavors and familiar notes — yet our return was far from swift.

Beijing, with its population exceeding 21 million, surges with life at dusk. Traffic clogs its wide boulevards, a reflection of its restless industry. Despite an impressive subway system spanning over 780 kilometers — one of the largest in the world — the rush hours remain a flood of humanity. A curious observation struck me: in all the hours spent navigating the city, not a single beggar had crossed our path. In China, it seemed, every hand had work, and where work thrives, hunger retreats into memory.

By the time we reached the hotel, the hunger born of travel had eclipsed the memory of lunch. In the lobby, Shama Munshi stood outside under the open night sky, speaking to her son in Pakistan. The smokers’ circle was in full swing, joined occasionally by Chinese guests, while a sleek service robot glided silently between tables, a small emblem of China’s seamless blend of tradition and technology.

From the high windows of our hotel — situated on the quieter fringes of the city — Beijing’s luminous expanse shimmered in the distance. Yet this was not China’s only metropolis of grandeur. Shanghai, Guangzhou, Shenzhen, Suzhou, and Wuhan each carried its own architectural and cultural signature. And now, 97 kilometers south of Beijing, a new city was rising from the plains of Hebei province — Xiongan New Area — President Xi Jinping’s ambitious vision of a fully digital, eco-friendly metropolis, destined to be the world’s largest economic zone. Launched in 2017 and overseen directly by the Central Committee of the Communist Party, Xiongan is designed with a central jewel — Baiyang Lake — where tech giants such as Alibaba have already planted their roots. Several government offices from Beijing are slated to relocate there, echoing historical precedents: in colonial India, the British founded planned cities like Lyallpur (now Faisalabad), Montgomery (now Sahiwal), and Jacobabad. Post-independence Pakistan built Islamabad, and today, with Chinese investment, Gwadar aspires to join this lineage of purpose-built cities.

Morning in Beijing carries its own discipline. By seven o’clock, the breakfast hall was alive with the slow gathering of our delegation. The spread leaned heavily toward Chinese cuisine, yet with a sprinkling of ingenuity — red chillies and black pepper — we shaped the dishes to suit our Pakistani palates.

Our ever-punctual guide, Jason, arrived after an hour’s drive, accompanied by our spirited host, Miss Tong. Both possessed that distinctly Chinese commitment to precision; no evasions, no shortcuts. I could not help recalling travels through Iran and Iraq, where delays and excuses often crept into itineraries, breeding irritation.

Among our group, there was a shared sentiment — the earlier visit to Tiananmen Square felt incomplete, and the absence of the Great Wall of China in our schedule was a genuine regret. But in China, movement is bound by official permits, and stubbornness yields little reward. The weather was agreeable, tinged with the promise of rain, and the Olympic Stadium was also a possibility — though subject to change at a moment’s notice.

As the bus rolled into the city, rain began to patter against the windows, softening the urban edges. Javed Malik was coaxed into song; he obliged with a classical alap, the notes weaving into the rhythm of the rain, and even Jason, our unflappable guide, swayed along.

The day’s first destination was the Summer Palace — the Yiheyuan, or “Garden of Nurtured Harmony.” Built during the Qing Dynasty and expanded in the 18th century under Emperor Qianlong, it is an imperial garden of staggering beauty. Spanning 2.9 square kilometers, it includes the man-made Kunming Lake (covering 540 acres) and the Longevity Hill, rising 200 feet above the waterline. The Palace is a study in how the Chinese have, for centuries, harnessed nature’s gifts — no plot of land left fallow, no drop of water wasted. In centuries past, Kunming Lake itself supplied water to Beijing, a testament to the nation’s long tradition of integrating beauty with utility.

In 1998, UNESCO recognized the Summer Palace as a World Heritage Site, praising it as “a masterpiece of Chinese landscape garden design.” Even in the monsoon rains, the pathways were free from stagnant water — a quiet lesson in urban planning that many modern cities, including ours, might well study.

Our entry was met with the hum of visitors. Recognized as Pakistanis, we exchanged smiles and handshakes with curious Chinese families; the warmth of their regard was the visible thread of Pakistan–China friendship. Cameras clicked, videos rolled, and our group’s vlogger seized the chance to record commentary. Shama Munshi mingled so easily with local families that I half-joked she might decide to settle in Beijing.

Time was short, and boating on Kunming Lake had been suspended due to weather. The smoker contingent retreated to their corner, while Dr. Muhammad Ali Ehsan studied the broad-leafed lotus plants drifting in the lake’s stillness.

A message from Miss Tong summoned us to the next leg of our day: the Olympic Stadium. As we boarded the bus, Jason passed around bottles of mineral water, his manner as considerate as it was efficient. He kept up a steady flow of conversation, noting that Beijing boasts seven UNESCO World Heritage Sites: the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace, the Temple of Heaven, Zhoukoudian, the Ming Tombs, sections of the Grand Canal, and portions of the Great Wall. These are magnets for millions of visitors each year.

Beijing today ranks among the ten richest cities in the world and is home to one of the highest concentrations of billionaires. Its governance blends socialist democracy with Chinese characteristics, shaped by Marxist principles, Maoist discipline, and the pragmatic reforms of later decades. Under President Xi Jinping — simultaneously General Secretary of the Communist Party and Chairman of the Central Military Commission — China’s march toward modernization has accelerated with extraordinary precision.

By the time we neared the Olympic Stadium — built for the 2008 Summer Games and later adapted for the 2022 Winter Olympics — the rain had thickened into a curtain. Miss Tong, in constant communication with her office, regretfully informed us that entering the stadium in such weather would diminish the experience. We accepted the change with a tinge of disappointment — another sight deferred to another day.

یورپا لیگ: ایک خوبصورت مگر غیر متوازن مقابلہ یورپی فٹبال کا منظر نامہ ہمیشہ سے دو طبقات میں بٹا رہا ہے: طاقتور اور کمزور...
28/11/2025

یورپا لیگ: ایک خوبصورت مگر غیر متوازن مقابلہ

یورپی فٹبال کا منظر نامہ ہمیشہ سے دو طبقات میں بٹا رہا ہے: طاقتور اور کمزور، امیر اور غریب، مرکزی اور حاشیے پر موجود۔ یورپا لیگ اسی تقسیم کی ایک خوبصورت مگر تلخ تصویر پیش کرتی ہے۔ ایک طرف یہ ٹورنامنٹ یورپ بھر کے سینکڑوں کلبوں کو عالمی سطح پر پہچان دیتا ہے، نوجوان کھلاڑیوں کو بڑی اسٹیج تک پہنچنے کا موقع فراہم کرتا ہے اور فٹبال کے ’’اصل جوہر‘‘ یعنی مقابلہ، جذبہ اور غیر متوقع نتائج کو زندہ رکھتا ہے۔ مگر دوسری طرف، اس کے ڈھانچے میں موجود کئی خامیاں اسے وہ مقام دلانے نہیں دیتیں جس کا یہ بجا طور پر حق رکھتا ہے۔

سب سے بڑی تنقید چیمپئنز لیگ کی ’’ڈراپ ڈاؤن‘‘ ٹیموں کی شمولیت پر ہے۔ جب مضبوط اور دولت مند کلب عین ناک آؤٹ اسٹیج پر یورپا لیگ میں داخل ہوتے ہیں تو وہ اُن ٹیموں کے لیے دیوار بن جاتے ہیں جو پورا سفر طے کر کے یہاں پہنچی ہوتی ہیں۔ اس سے مقابلے کی روح مجروح ہوتی ہے اور چھوٹی لیگز کی محنت ضائع ہو جاتی ہے۔

اسی طرح ٹورنامنٹ کا طویل فارمیٹ اور میچز چھوٹے کلبوں کے لیے خاص طور پر مسئلہ بنتے ہیں۔ محدود اسکواڈ رکھنے والی ٹیموں کے کھلاڑی مسلسل سفر اور مختصر ریکوری کی وجہ سے مقامی لیگ میں کمزور پڑ جاتے ہیں۔ انعامی رقم بھی کم ہے، جس سے یہ تاثر مضبوط ہوتا ہے کہ یورپا لیگ اب بھی ’’دوسرے درجے‘‘ کی ٹورنامنٹ ہے۔

یورپا لیگ کو مضبوط بنانے کے لیے چند بنیادی اصلاحات ضروری ہیں:

چیمپئنز لیگ ڈراپ ڈاؤن سسٹم ختم یا محدود کیا جائے۔

انعامی رقم میں واضح اضافہ کیا جائے تاکہ مقابلے کی اہمیت بڑھے۔
میچ شیڈول کو اس طرح ترتیب دیا جائے کہ مقامی لیگز اور کھلاڑیوں کی فٹنس متاثر نہ ہو۔

چھوٹی لیگز کی ٹیموں کے لیے خصوصی مالی سپورٹ یا ٹریول الاؤنس متعارف کرائے جائیں۔

اگر یہ تبدیلیاں کی جائیں تو یورپا لیگ صرف خوبصورت نہیں بلکہ منصفانہ بھی بن سکتی ہے — اور یورپی فٹبال کے نقشے میں اپنی اصل جگہ حاصل کر سکتی ہے۔

Part .5 – The Living Bridge: Peking University and the Blossoming of Urdu in ChinaIn the heart of Beijing’s Haidian Dist...
23/11/2025

Part .5 – The Living Bridge: Peking University and the Blossoming of Urdu in China

In the heart of Beijing’s Haidian District, a world-renowned bastion of learning stretches across 680 acres, its green expanse punctuated by a serene, unnamed lake. This is Peking University, a name that resonates not only within China but across global academic circles. Often referred to as the Harvard of the East, it stands among Asia’s most prestigious institutions. Founded on June 11, 1898, during the late Qing Dynasty, Peking University emerged from the reforms initiated by the Guangxu Emperor, under the guidance of reformist artist and official Sun Jianai (孙家鼐).

The university's evolution from the Imperial Capital University (京师大学堂) to a modern, multidisciplinary academic institution reflects the intellectual and political transformations of China itself. Over the decades, Peking University has not only produced Nobel laureates and top scientists but has also played a central role in cultural movements, including the May Fourth Movement of 1919. Today, instruction is primarily delivered in Mandarin Chinese and English, but its School of Foreign Languages offers a mosaic of world languages — among them, Urdu.

It was within this rich academic landscape that we found ourselves — guests in a realm where history breathes through red-tiled roofs and lakeside paths. Welcoming us at the university’s iconic gate was a gracious host, and accompanying them, a group of radiant students — Chinese in origin but draped in the culture and eloquence of South Asia. Their names — Aafia, Kainat, and Qudsia — were not their given ones. These names, drawn from Urdu literature and poetry, were lovingly chosen in homage to a language they had embraced not only intellectually, but emotionally.

As we meandered along the shaded pathways that skirted the tranquil lake, there was a sense of being not within a university, but a sanctuary of beauty and intellect — a city of knowledge where language becomes a bridge between civilizations. Amidst the laughter and snapshots taken by Nauman Nizami, our group was immersed in easy conversation with these exceptional students, whose fluent Urdu was as polished as their poise.

It was during this leisurely walk that Javed Malik, a poet by heart, inquired about the name of the lake that adorned the university’s campus. The students shrugged; it had none. "Then let us name it Qudsia Lake," he declared, eliciting peals of laughter that echoed against the calm waters. In that moment, a lake without a name was baptized with the joy of human connection and the spirit of cultural exchange.

Our destination was the Department of Urdu, located beside the Pakistan Study Center, and waiting to receive us at its entrance was Professor Tahira. A native Chinese and a distinguished scholar of Urdu, she personifies the bond between the two nations. Her name, like her students', was adopted out of affection for Urdu. Dignified, soft-spoken, and resolute, Professor Tahira has spent decades not only teaching but also writing about Pakistani culture, building bridges between Beijing and Islamabad through the subtle power of language.

Inside the modest yet well-equipped department building, the walls adorned with verses from Ghalib, Faiz, and Iqbal, the aura was one of reverence and intimacy. We were introduced to Professor Dr. Thang MingSheng, the head of the Pakistan Study Center. A man of profound calm, his face bore the wisdom of years and the warmth of a longtime friend. With serenity in his voice and a smile that disarmed formality, he welcomed each of us individually.

Professor Thang, a name deeply respected in Pakistani academic and cultural circles, has been a living testimony to Pak-China friendship. He has visited Pakistan over 180 times — a number both astounding and symbolic. His scholarship has contributed to the understanding of Pakistan in China, and in recognition of his efforts, the Government of Pakistan has honored him with the “Sitara-e-Imtiaz”, one of its highest civilian awards.

In the introductory session, Professor Tahira shared a brief overview of the Urdu department. "We currently have ten dedicated students," she said. “The love for Urdu is growing among young Chinese scholars. It’s not just the beauty of the script or the richness of its poetry — it's the emotion, the depth, the culture that it brings along.” Today, eight major Chinese universities offer Urdu language programs, including Peking University, Beijing Foreign Studies University, and Guangdong University of Foreign Studies, a number that is steadily increasing with the growing socio-political and economic ties between Pakistan and China.

Professor Thang expanded the historical lens even further. “The Urdu Department at Peking University was established in 1954, under the directive of Premier Zhou Enlai (周恩来),” he said. That year marked the beginning of a thoughtful academic partnership between the two nations — one not forged solely by trade or strategy, but by the sharing of knowledge and culture.

He continued: “Though modern China was born in 1949, following the victory of the Communist Revolution under Mao Zedong, the leadership then already foresaw the importance of cultivating strong ties with Pakistan. Premier Zhou believed that understanding a nation's language is the first step to understanding its people.” It was this vision that planted the seeds of Urdu in China — a language that once seemed foreign now echoed confidently in lecture halls and student dormitories.

The Pakistan Study Center, founded in the early 2000s, works in tandem with the Urdu department to promote not just language, but Pakistani history, politics, and culture. Joint research projects, student exchanges, and academic conferences form the backbone of its operations. With scholars like Dr. Thang, the center has produced significant research on Sino-Pakistani relations, including translations of Iqbal’s poetry, critical essays on Faiz Ahmed Faiz, and comparative studies of Sufi philosophy in Chinese and Islamic contexts.

The love for Urdu, however, is not confined to academia. The Chinese students we met, with their adopted names and fluent speech, were drawn to the emotion and aesthetic richness of the language. One student, Kainat, told us, “When I read Faiz, I feel as if the words are speaking directly to my soul. Urdu has this ability — to make you feel deeply, even when it is not your mother tongue.”

These students are part of a new generation of cultural diplomats, learning not just the words, but the history, idioms, and emotions of a language that stands at the crossroads of Persian, Arabic, Hindi, and Turkish influences. Through them, a new chapter of soft diplomacy is being written — not in embassies, but in classrooms and tea houses, in poems recited and couplets exchanged.

As we bid farewell to the department, the memory of the nameless lake lingered. A symbol of quiet beauty, of connections unspoken, now remembered fondly as Qudsia Lake. The camera in Nauman’s hands had captured not just the picturesque setting, but the subtle poetry of the day — of laughter shared across linguistic boundaries, of students stepping into roles of cultural ambassadors, and of a university that continues to honor the spirit of mutual respect and friendship between China and Pakistan.

In Peking University, we did not just visit a place of learning. We encountered a living archive of humanistic ideals, where students, scholars, and the very walls around them speak of the power of language to connect hearts and histories. In a time of fractured global discourse, this collaboration between two countries, anchored in Urdu, offers a reminder: that when nations speak to each other in poetry, diplomacy becomes a form of art.

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