The recent Covid-19 pandemic became synonymous with the term social distance. However, social distancing has been practiced in a variety of ways, probably since human societies formed.

Social distance is the cultivation of physical, psychological and cultural differences between different groups of people on the basis of class, race, gender, political thought, religion and their many subsets.

In Pakistan, social distance has been institutionalised for thousands of years. While the ruins of Mohenjo Daro and Harappa reveal no visible signs of class hierarchy, with the Aryan invasion, caste and class became entrenched. Each subsequent invader further consolidated hierarchies of power and privilege.

Power and privilege remain a hallmark of Pakistani society. The waderas [feudals] of Sindh, the zamindars [landowners] of Punjab, the Nawabs of Balochistan, the Maliks of Khyber Pakhtunkwa, the higher echelons of the business community and the top positions of the civil service are its more visible signs.

There are many other more subtle manifestations of privilege: an education in English, the ability to open a bank account, having religious credentials to interpret religious injunctions, even simple matters like access to water and electricity. An inherited name can confer privileges. Belonging to a certain family, tribe or a religious sect may open doors that would otherwise have been shut.

The zoning of city areas — some with lavish housing, wide roads, expensive shops, restaurants and art galleries, others congested and deprived of social amenities — divides the population into those that matter and those that don’t.

Privilege exists in all societies across the world. A WASP (white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant) is at the top of the power chain in America. The six million Freemasons around the world, one of the best-known ‘secret’ societies, are sworn to mutual support and loyalty to fellow Freemasons. Race has been a great divider as has been gender, migrant communities, the elderly or people with a disability.

It is natural that people who share common values, languages, racial or ethnic backgrounds are drawn to one another. However, divisions are also consciously maintained by exclusion and are guarded by creating distance. The more powerful a group is, the greater the distance. The American poet Amanda Gorman says, “To the oppressor, social distance is a humiliation.”

Personal property, the char diwari or four walls, is a cherished personal space, which, when breached by thieves, or as we have seen recently, by police or mobs, shakes the very foundations of personal security.

High walls, guarded gates and CCTV cameras are common sights. On the streets, distance is maintained in cars, some with blackened windows followed by security details, by those choosing not to mingle with ordinary people on the street, let alone travel with them on public transport.

The poet Bashir Badr expresses the fear of the disenfranchised: “Baray logon se milne mein hamesha fasla rakhna. Jahan dariya samundar se mila dariya nahin rahta” [Always keep your distance from powerful people. The river loses its identity when it mixes with the ocean].

A woman’s burqa sends a message to men to keep their distance. A uniform creates an institutional rather than personal identity. School or nurses’ uniforms, or the vestments of the clergy, are intended to encourage engagement. The army uniform, on the other hand, is intended to separate army personnel from the public. The author Godfrey Maringira writes, the training of recruits aims to “decivilianise” and depersonalise the soldier. Fortress walls, barbed wire, and in Pakistan, containers and red zones, are imposed to maintain physical distance.

Social barriers are increasingly being erased by social workers, disaster relief and charity organisations, by the socially mobile who aim to close distances by emulating higher lifestyles, by people in uniform who also identify as sons and daughters, spouses and parents. Literature and cinema often explore the crossing of social barriers, from Romeo and Juliet to Aurat Raj. The new world is heeding Habib Jalib’s advice: “Duniya tau chahti hai yunhi fasle rahain, duniya ke mashvaron pe na ja, is gali men chal” [The world wants the distances to remain. Do not be advised by the world, come along this lane].

Durriya Kazi is a Karachi-based artist.

She may be reached at durriyakazi1918@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, EOS, May 28th, 2023