The Illusion of Philosophy in Pakistani Thought: Rhetoric Over Reason

In South Asia, and particularly in Pakistan, poetry enjoys an exalted status. It is considered the vessel of the deepest human sentiments and is often mistaken for the highest form of wisdom. From the verses of Ghalib to the emotional depth of Faiz, poetry permeates everyday life, echoing through drawing rooms, television shows, and national celebrations. Nowhere is this more evident than in the reverence afforded to Muhammad Iqbal, who is frequently described as the “Philosopher of the East.” Yet this popular elevation of poetic expression to the rank of philosophical thought reveals a deeper malaise: a widespread misunderstanding of what philosophy is, and a cultural preference for eloquence over inquiry.

Philosophy, at its core, is a discipline of rational inquiry. It demands clarity, critical engagement, and logical consistency. It thrives on argumentation, self-doubt, and the readiness to examine one’s own premises. Poetry, by contrast, is inherently emotive and subjective. It seeks to move, not necessarily to prove. While poetry can raise philosophical questions or reflect on human existence, it does not - and cannot - replace the rigorous methods of philosophical reasoning. To mistake poetic expression for philosophical argument is to conflate two fundamentally different modes of thought.

Iqbal is the most striking case of this conflation. Though celebrated as a philosopher, he was, in truth, deeply skeptical of philosophy - especially in its Western forms. His Persian poem Asrār-e-Khudī (Secrets of the Self) is not a treatise but a lyrical diatribe against sterile intellectualism. He critiques Western rationalism for being spiritually bankrupt, for divorcing man from his inner essence, and for reducing life to mechanical analysis. He champions instead a dynamic, God-centered selfhood, inspired more by mysticism and prophetic insight than by dialectical reasoning. In his Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam, he does engage with metaphysical and theological issues, yet always through the lens of revelation and intuition, never through dispassionate critique or conceptual analysis. He philosophizes, perhaps, but only poetically and polemically.

This paradox - that Iqbal denies philosophy even as he is canonized as a philosopher - mirrors a broader phenomenon in Pakistani intellectual culture. Here, philosophical thought is often judged not by its internal coherence or argumentative strength, but by its emotional appeal, its cultural resonance, or its perceived loyalty to tradition. Eloquence is mistaken for depth. The use of philosophical vocabulary is often ornamental, not analytical. Concepts like “self,” “being,” or “freedom” are invoked poetically, but rarely defined, examined, or challenged. This leads to a form of cultural discourse where proverbs, poetic aphorisms, and ideological platitudes substitute for reasoned thought.

This tendency is reinforced by a reluctance to question sacred assumptions - be they religious, cultural, or national. Philosophy’s essence lies in questioning, in destabilizing the comfortable, in pushing boundaries. But in Pakistani society, such questioning is often viewed as subversive or even dangerous. Reverence for tradition stifles intellectual risk-taking. As a result, philosophy becomes either an object of suspicion or a tool of affirmation. When it is practiced at all, it is usually in service of ideology rather than inquiry.

Moreover, there is a pervasive disinterest in engaging Western philosophy on its own terms. While Iqbal references figures like Nietzsche, Kant, and Bergson, he often does so selectively and interpretively, bending their ideas to fit his vision rather than confronting them directly. This pattern persists in later generations, where Western thought is either romanticized or dismissed, but seldom studied with rigor. Name-dropping substitutes for reading. Genuine philosophical engagement - critical, informed, and systematic - is rare. It is easier to denounce Western metaphysics than to grapple with Hume’s skepticism, Kant’s epistemology, or Wittgenstein’s language games.

This conflation of poetic expression with philosophical depth serves a national function. In a postcolonial context, labeling Iqbal a philosopher affirms a sense of intellectual sovereignty. It provides cultural legitimacy and a source of pride. But this pride often comes at the expense of self-reflection. The myth of indigenous philosophical greatness becomes a shield against the uncomfortable realization that true philosophy - disciplined, self-critical, and conceptually precise - is largely absent from public life.

In truth, what passes for philosophy in Pakistan is often rhetoric in the costume of thought. The societal reverence for poetic mysticism, the defensive stance toward Western reason, and the national need for heroic intellectuals have all contributed to a climate where philosophy is misunderstood, underdeveloped, and misrepresented. To move beyond this condition would require cultivating a new intellectual ethos - one that values clarity over ambiguity, analysis over affirmation, and inquiry over ideology. Until then, philosophy will remain, for many, a beautiful word with little real meaning.