For decades, Pakistan’s name has echoed through global headlines alongside two persistent companions: the burqa and the bomb. Whether it’s an image of a veiled woman walking on a crowded street or a panel of analysts dissecting regional terrorism, the global imagination of Pakistan remains tethered to a narrow set of visuals and ideas — one-dimensional, reductive, and often damaging.
This is not merely a media problem; it is a perception problem. And because perception often trumps reality, it shapes policy, fuels prejudice and distorts people’s lived experiences.
Since 9/11, Pakistan’s identity in the West has largely been constructed through a lens of security paranoia and cultural othering. Its social, political, and human complexities are flattened into simplistic tropes. In Hollywood films and primetime documentaries, Pakistan often appears as a blurry desert; its language mistakenly rendered in Arabic, its people stripped of nuance. Women are portrayed as passive, men as angry, and cities as perpetual war zones.
Indian cinema has long indulged in similar caricatures. In Bollywood, the archetypal Pakistani character dons a topi, speaks in hyper-formal Urdu, and wears surma-lined eyes — a theatrical relic or looming threat. As India’s cultural megaphone, Bollywood doesn’t merely entertain; it shapes sentiment. Its repeated portrayal of Pakistanis as villains, spies, or fanatics isn’t just lazy scripting — it is soft propaganda reinforcing state narratives. This isn’t ignorance; it’s intent. Misrepresentation isn’t accidental — it’s agenda-driven.
Even when the narrative appears to shift, as in the case of Nobel laureate Malala Yousafzai, the framing remains exceptionalist: a lone progressive defying an otherwise regressive backdrop. Her story is frequently told as a heroic stand against Pakistan’s cultural or political norms, rather than situated within them. Rarely are local educators acknowledged for supporting her early activism, or community members recognized for advocating girls’ education alongside her. The broader ecosystem of progressive Pakistanis — who’ve fought similar battles for decades — is often omitted.
This kind of selective storytelling doesn’t merely ignore reality; it erases it.
Consider the numbers. Pakistan is the world’s fifth most populous country, home to over 240 million people. It has one of the largest youth populations globally. Its creative industries, tech entrepreneurs, climate advocates, and artists are actively shaping new futures. Yet for most audiences outside the region, the country is encountered only through the prism of violence, volatility, or geopolitics.
Where are the stories of Muneeb Maayer, founder of Bykea? Or Danish Lakhani, whose fintech platform NayaPay was featured in Forbes Asia’s 100 to Watch list in 2024? What about Shazia Syed, the former CEO of Unilever Pakistan, and Shaista Asif, co-founder of PureHealth, both named among Forbes’ 100 Most Powerful Businesswomen of 2024? Or Faraz Khan MBE, founder of Seed Ventures?
They exist, but their stories rarely break through the narrative firewall erected by editorial gatekeeping and decades of geopolitical framing.
This isn’t about demanding good press or glossing over Pakistan’s very real challenges. It is about balance and responsibility. Western media plays a disproportionate role in shaping Pakistan’s global image and that image has been strikingly consistent for decades.
A recent study by The Narratives Lab examined 500 headlines from prominent Western media outlets between December 2024 and May 2025. The findings were stark: over 70% of coverage focused on terrorism, security threats, political instability, or conflict. Fewer than 1% of stories highlighted civic efforts, innovation, or cultural developments. One major U.S. news agency, for example, published 57 articles on Pakistan during the review period, only one of which celebrated Arshad Nadeem’s Olympic win. In the UK, a leading outlet published 96 pieces, with just one covering a positive milestone: the launch of Pakistan’s first textile museum.
This skewed representation is not coincidental. It stems from a confluence of factors: entrenched editorial biases shaped by decades of geopolitical tension, an industry-wide reliance on conflict-driven narratives for engagement, and a notable absence of Pakistani voices in global newsrooms.
Pakistan too often enters the Western media frame as a security subject rather than a society, resulting in an overwhelming focus on crisis, while creativity, reform, and civic life are underreported or rendered invisible.
“The problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story,”
Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
These entrenched patterns reinforce old fears, fuel public misunderstanding, and shape foreign and domestic policies that treat Pakistan as a problem to be solved rather than a society to be understood.
For the Pakistani diaspora especially students and professionals in the West, this narrative imbalance is more than a media concern. It materializes in classrooms, job interviews, and casual conversations. It reveals itself in moments of surprise when someone introduces themselves as Pakistani and fluent in English.
It places a dual burden on young Pakistanis: to excel in their fields, and to constantly explain or defend their country’s image.
Many are rising to that challenge. A new generation of global Pakistanis is reclaiming space. But without structural support, media access, narrative training, editorial allies, the burden remains uneven and unsustainable.
So how do we move beyond the burqa and the bomb?
First, by recognizing that in today’s world, knowledge is a tool, but narrative is power. And that power has long been unevenly distributed. Pakistan doesn’t need a rebrand or a Naya Pakistan. It needs a reframe. One that doesn’t deny complexity but embraces it. One that allows for contradiction, for pride and critique, tradition and change.
Second, by investing in narrative infrastructure. Journalism schools, cultural institutes, embassies, and diaspora networks must begin to see media literacy and storytelling as strategic assets, not side projects.
And finally, by holding international media accountable. With data. With dialogue. And with credible alternatives.
Pakistan deserves better than being reduced to a threat level or a dress code. It deserves to be seen as it is: layered, contested, and alive. We are more than the crises we survive. We are also the cultures we build, and the futures we imagine.
So the next time a global headline reads “Pakistan,” ask: Whose lens is this? Whose voice is missing? What’s the story behind the story?
Because a nation cannot be understood through silhouettes and shrapnel. Pakistan is more than the burqa and the bomb and it’s time the world caught up.
