There was a time when national honors in Pakistan symbolized dignity and pride. Awards such as the Sitara-e-Imtiaz and the Tamgha-e-Husn-e-Karkardagi were reserved for those who had dedicated their lives in service to the nation. These medals were not mere ornaments; they were a state’s acknowledgment of its heroes—an affirmation that sacrifice, excellence, and commitment were valued.
Today, however, these awards appear to have been reduced to commodities. A marketplace has emerged where honors are traded, and crowns of prestige are being placed upon unworthy heads. Instead of recognizing merit, governments and institutions distribute these medals according to personal preferences, political alignments, or financial clout. Those who wield influence, wealth, or connections secure the highest accolades, while the truly deserving—soldiers, scientists, teachers, writers, and poets—are left overlooked and forgotten.
One is often left astonished by the names on the recipients’ lists. What great service, one wonders, entitles them to be celebrated as national heroes? Meanwhile, the real torchbearers of progress and patriotism remain unrewarded—simply because they lack the backing of a patron. This is where the insult lies: when society witnesses a medal of bravery pinned upon someone who has never faced danger, the inevitable question arises—are these awards granted, or are they sold?
The consequences are grave. When mediocrity is decorated, the stature of genuine heroes is diminished, and the younger generation loses respect for the very symbols that once inspired them. The essence of these awards has been tarnished to the point where their significance is in doubt. Have they become nothing more than tokens in a larger game of power?
If we are to restore their credibility, a transparent and impartial system must be put in place. An independent body should be established—free from political or personal influence—that judges only on the basis of service and achievement. Without such reform, these awards will remain items for barter, and national pride will continue to be auctioned off.
Once, these medals glittered like stars on the nation’s brow, illuminating dark nights with hope and inspiration. They were symbols of sacrifice, of hard work, of intellectual and artistic brilliance. But today, those stars seem to have fallen, and an auction board has been hung upon them. It is a national tragedy that what should be badges of honor have instead become certificates of sycophancy.
The most painful dimension of this decline is its encroachment into literature. Once a source of light and resistance, literature too has fallen prey to cliques, favoritism, and patronage. True poets—those who bleed on the page—are sidelined. Genuine writers, who articulate the wounds of society, are pushed into obscurity. Instead, prominence is given to those who pander, whose words reek of self-interest rather than truth.
This marketplace is a stain upon the forehead of literature. It insults the genuine artist and kills the dreams of young writers. The question is clear: when awards are stripped of fairness, when medals become favors, when stars are pinned on the undeserving—how will a nation recognize its true heroes?
The time has come to rescue these honors from auction and return them to their rightful pedestal of respect. If we fail, history will judge us harshly, and future generations will laugh at how cheaply we sold our dignity.
As one couplet reminds us:
Looking at the list of awards, one feels—
Some are spoons, others ladles.
Surely, the soul of Quaid-e-Azam must be restless.
Alas! Is this the realization of Iqbal’s dream?
The real tragedy is this: even when a few truly deserving names appear on these lists, they too are dragged into suspicion, overshadowed by the presence of flatterers and courtiers. And so, one final question remains:
will any patriot step forward to seek justice in the courts, and hold accountable those responsible for this disgrace of national honors?
