Following the ouster of Sheikh Hasina’s autocratic government during the July Uprising, Islamabad and Dhaka have been actively thawing a diplomatic relationship that remained frozen for a decade. Pakistani military and diplomatic officials have warmly received their former compatriots. During the tenure of Bangladesh’s interim administration, which concluded this February, high-ranking delegates like Pakistan’s Deputy Prime Minister Ishaq Dar visited Dhaka. These engagements have spurred the renewal of trade routes, student scholarships, military cooperation, and intelligence sharing.

However, the enthusiasm of this renewed bilateral romance is overshadowed by a profound human tragedy unfolding in the labyrinthine, open-sewered slums of Karachi. In neighborhoods such as Musa Colony and Machar Colony, an estimated three million ethnic Bengalis endure a life of institutionalized invisibility. While Pakistan eagerly courts the Bangladeshi state, it continues to marginalize millions of Bengalis trapped within its own borders, treating native-born residents as unwanted entities.

This stateless community is a lingering legacy of the blood-soaked fracture of 1971. When East Pakistan seceded to form independent Bangladesh, hundreds of thousands of Bengalis remained in the west, finding work in Karachi’s fishing industries and ports. Over the last half-century, their population has swelled to encompass three generations who have only ever known Pakistani soil. These residents speak Urdu, cheer with the Pakistani flag at cricket matches, and sustain the local economy. Yet, they are systematically denied the modern world’s most basic prerequisite: the National Identity Card.

Lacking this digital gateway to civic life, individuals practically cease to exist in the eyes of the government. They are barred from voting, purchasing property, opening bank accounts, and securing formal employment. For the youth in Karachi’s Bengali enclaves, this lack of documentation builds an insurmountable barrier. Talented young cricket and football players are blocked from joining national teams or traveling internationally. Furthermore, the inability to legally register marriages forces families to arrange early marriages for their daughters, as their avenues for advanced education and professional careers are entirely blocked by the law. This administrative erasure ensures that poverty is structurally passed from parent to child.

The ultimate irony of this disenfranchisement is its direct violation of Pakistan’s own legal framework. The Pakistan Citizenship Act of 1951 expressly guarantees birthright citizenship to anyone born within the nation’s territory. For decades, rudimentary paper documents provided a fragile layer of protection. However, the crisis morphed into systematic discrimination in 2000 with the rollout of a centralized digital registry. Operating under the banner of national security, the state’s bureaucratic machinery began reclassifying long-term, native-born residents as “foreigners” and illegal Bangladeshi migrants, effectively weaponizing routine administration into institutional racism.

Pakistan’s failure to address this humanitarian responsibility contrasts starkly with the precedent set by Bangladesh. Following the 1971 war, Dhaka grappled with the complex presence of hundreds of thousands of Urdu-speaking Biharis who had allied with Pakistan and were stranded in squalid refugee camps. Through a lengthy political and legal process, the Bangladeshi judiciary ultimately granted citizenship and voting rights to the post-war generation born on its soil, choosing integration over permanent internal exile.

This domestic hypocrisy deeply undermines Islamabad’s ongoing charm offensive. While exchanging diplomatic pleasantries is easy, a nation’s true sincerity is measured by how it treats its most vulnerable populations. Former Prime Minister Imran Khan acknowledged this grave injustice in 2018, explicitly promising to grant citizenship to Pakistan’s stateless Bengalis. Yet, like many political vows, it quickly dissolved when confronted by the deep state’s security paranoia.

If Islamabad’s current leadership genuinely seeks a meaningful partnership with Dhaka, it cannot continue to ignore the existence of these three million people. Expressions of fraternal affection ring hollow when children in Karachi’s slums are denied education solely due to their ethnic heritage. True reconciliation demands justice for the living, not just moving past historical ghosts.

The responsibility to address this also rests with the new authorities in Dhaka. While the pursuit of economic integration and regional ties is a logical step, Bangladeshi policymakers must not let diplomatic euphoria eclipse fundamental human rights. The crisis facing the diaspora in Karachi must be a central issue at the bilateral negotiation table. Dhaka must insist that any comprehensive diplomatic reset includes guaranteed civil rights, healthcare, and dignity for Pakistan’s Bengali community.

*Siam Sarower Jamil is a Journalist and Researcher. He can be reached at siam33jamil@gmail.com*