Faith, forgiveness and the future

May 6 is etched in my memory – not because it ended in tragedy, but because it nearly did. That afternoon in 2018, as I stepped out from a routine community gathering in Narowal, a young man in the crowd pulled out a gun and shot at me. The bullet tore through me, but that day, something else was wounded more deeply than flesh – our collective spirit as a nation. That bullet, driven by hate and false religiosity, was not just aimed at me. It was aimed at the very dream of a peaceful, pluralistic and united Pakistan. As I reflect on that harrowing moment, what grieves me most is not personal pain, but the reminder of how deeply we are drifting apart, poisoned by division, and misled by the voices of intolerance.

The young man who shot me was not a foreign agent, a hardened criminal, or a militant with years in the mountains. He was one of our own – driven by a warped understanding of religion and intoxicated by a culture of political hate. That realisation shook me more than the bullet itself. He emerged from an environment where, despite our society’s strong values of tolerance and unity, a few have sought to exploit religion for political purposes and suppress dialogue with discord. His action, though condemned by the vast majority, is a symptom of a more profound crisis: the polarisation of our people and the presence of certain elements who seek to hijack our faith by preaching division.

My survival was a miracle, but the sickness in the section of our society remains. While I received overwhelming support and adoration in the months that followed, what I also saw were social media campaigns justifying violence, the silence of those who should have condemned it, and the troubling glorification of intolerance by certain elements. This left me feeling more wounded than any bullet could. When hate is nurtured in the garb of faith, when slogans replace arguments and when dissent becomes a crime, we are tearing apart the fabric of our beloved Pakistan.

The experience became a defining moment in my life. Rather than responding with fear, I chose hope. Rather than retreating, I chose to rebuild. Today, on the very soil where hatred struck, we are launching the Narowal Peace Dialogue Forum – a platform that transforms pain into purpose, and tragedy into transformation.

Pakistan today stands at a crossroads. The rampant polarisation is not accidental but manufactured. Certain groups and voices have made it their mission to weaponize religion and politics. They exploit the emotional and spiritual commitments of ordinary Pakistanis, turning them into tools for disruption. The cost of this intolerance is not just political instability but the erosion of trust, community and the foundations upon which our country was built. The tragedy is that Islam, a religion rooted in peace, mercy and justice, is being misrepresented by those who seek power through fear.

The Prophet (pbuh) said: “Do you want me to tell you of what is better than the rank of fasting, prayer and charity?” The Companions said, “Yes, O Messenger of Allah". He (pbuh) said, “Making peace between people among whom there is discord, for the evil of discord is the shaver.” We must return to that path.

As we work towards transforming our nation, we are working towards building a nation where faith is used to heal. Where difference of opinion is celebrated. We are now working towards promoting critical thinking, empathy, revitalising education curricula and institutional reform. We are now focused on instilling values in our youth that the true essence of religion is compassion, not condemnation. That democracy is built on dialogue, not destruction.

We are initiating interventions that align our educational systems, religious institution, and digital platforms with the goals of peace, stability and tolerance. We are working towards investing not just in infrastructure, but in values – tolerance, empathy, critical thinking and the dignity of disagreement.

I believe in the boundless potential of our people. But we cannot realize it unless we confront this culture of hatred head-on, which is why we are working towards a national curriculum that teaches critical thinking, not blind obedience. We are engaging with Ulema to preach unity, not division. As political leaders – myself included – we are prioritising healing over point-scoring.

Undoubtedly, we need justice – not just in the courts, but in our culture. Therefore, efforts are being made to ensure that no person is targeted because of their beliefs, their party, or their profession. Justice that protects the right to disagree without fear. Justice that is seen, heard, and felt in every town, classroom, and mosque.

There are no shortcuts to rebuilding a broken society. It requires each of us to step back from the edge, look inward, and make the conscious choice to listen, forgive and rebuild. Our history is rich with examples of tolerance and coexistence. Let us not allow the voices of extremism to erase that legacy.

We cannot allow the misguidance of a few to determine the destiny of the many. What happened to me is not a symbol of despair, but a call to action. I have now redoubled my efforts to reform our education system to instil critical thinking, empathy and an accurate understanding of religious values. Our children will now grow up learning that disagreement is not enmity, and that diversity is not a threat but a strength. Curriculum reform will include teachings on civic responsibility, tolerance, and the shared history of our diverse communities.

We have crafted a national strategy for interfaith and intrafaith harmony. Pakistan is home to many faiths and sects, each woven into the fabric of our society. We are working towards fostering spaces – both online and offline – where dialogue is encouraged, differences are respected and common ground is celebrated. The Narowal Peace Dialogue Forum is an example of such interventions. We are engaging with religious leaders, educators, media figures, and policymakers to amplify messages of peace and reject the voices that preach exclusion and hatred.

I am also cognizant of the fact that the digital age requires a new kind of vigilance. Online platforms have become breeding grounds for misinformation, conspiracy theories and radicalisation. We are working towards establishing robust frameworks to monitor and counter hate messaging online, not by silencing free speech, but by drowning out lies with truth. We are creating digital literacy programs in schools and communities that empower citizens to question what they see, resist manipulation, and engage responsibly in civic discourse.

As a nation, we must also learn to forgive – not as a sign of weakness, but of strength. Justice is necessary, but healing cannot come from punishment alone. We are working towards investing in de-radicalisation programmes that offer young people a way back from the edge. Compassion, not vengeance, is our compass if we are to truly rebuild trust.

On May 6, I could have lost my life. But instead, I gained a mission. A mission to ensure that no other parent must bury a child lost to hate, that no other leader is shot for words they speak, and that no Pakistani is ever again made to feel like an enemy in their own land. The bullet missed my heart, but it struck my conscience – and I intend to act.

This is not just the duty of the government, but of every parent, teacher, cleric, journalist, and citizen. The Holy Prophet (pbuh) said, “The Muslim is the one from whose tongue and hand the people are safe.” Let us make this teaching a lived reality in our streets, schools, and institutions.

To the youth of Pakistan, I say this: you are not the soldiers of anyone’s ideology but the builders of your own destiny. Let your hands raise books, not guns. Let your voices be used for debate, not destruction. And let your hearts remain open – to difference, dissent and humanity.

The future of Pakistan depends not on silencing each other, but on hearing each other. Not on dividing in the name of religion, but on uniting in its true spirit. It starts with a choice: to replace hate with hope, fear with faith, and division with the determination to build a country where every citizen feels seen, safe and heard.

The writer is the federal minister for planning, development, and special initiatives. He tweets/posts @betterpakistan