Celebrating Independence as a British-Pakistani

"When is British Independence Day?", asked my younger cousins on one of my trips home to Pakistan as we spoke about British and Pakistani culture. This question, which makes me laugh now, caught me very off-guard and took me a few minutes to formulate a response to. This answer was, to my despair and their disappointment: "We don't have one."

The actual Day of Independence in Pakistan ushers in a sort of national euphoria, best described as a huge "birthday party". Families spend time together and gather to hear tales inherited from their elders about life under British rule. Outside, there is a sea of green. Processions of cars drive past, flags waving out of windows, fireworks, patriotic music, and chants of "Pakistan Zindabad!"

It filled me with a novel sense of pride seeing almost every car displaying the flag and evoked an impressive unity for a country so diverse to unite under one national identity, if only for just one day.

This made the experience was as bittersweet as it was beautiful. I never felt fully able to enjoy Independence Day in all its vibrancy as I was always aware of the fact that whilst everyone celebrated the end of British rule, I was intrinsically tied to it and benefitted from it by residing in the land of the former coloniser.

Having grown up in Britain, I hadn’t often thought about ideas of “independence” or “freedom”, I never really had to in the same way former colonies do. Therefore, the idea of an Independence Day in itself confused me, as this was something I had taken relatively for granted. The fact it was actually celebrated was an even bigger surprise rather than being just an honorary holiday.

Despite colonialism being such a large part of British history, it seems quite odd that it is almost completely absent from the national curriculum. This puts Brits as a collective disadvantage as we are so unaware of the impact our country has on shaping so much of the history of the rest of the globe. This also made for some awkwardness as I listened to my cousins talk about the history of British presence in Pakistan as I was largely, if not totally unaware of the whole struggle for freedom as I had missed out on the chance to unite these two sides of my identity and history in my head as there were too many gaps in my knowledge.

Being British-Pakistani, it feels like you are always aligned with the minority, wherever you are. When in Britain, you are seen as Pakistani and your Britishness is overlooked and vice versa. This can make it somewhat uncomfortable when discussing topics such as colonialism and independence as there feels like there is a slight accusatory tone as people talk about what ‘the British’ did to the country. This is quite a complex issue to navigate as, despite not holding any ties to Britain back then, I still feel a sense of discomfort and shame when the actions of colonial Britain are conversed and merged with me by association.

How ever strange and contradictory the identities of British and Pakistani can be at times, this is ultimately to be expected, given the dynamic between former coloniser and colonised country.

Despite this, these identities can also be helpful. I have learnt to deal with owning dual identities by viewing them as linked to each other, instead of thinking I had to pick a ‘side’. One cultural frame of reference can help inform the experience of the other.

Ultimately, my life experiences have been neither British nor Pakistani, but British-Pakistani, just as the label would suggest.

Originally published on Roar News