Caveats are important in life. We are taught that parentheses and modifiers contain non-essential information. They do not alter the essence of the sentence. Yet, much like punctuation, the absence of provisos in life can cost us dearly. Sometimes monetarily, and other times with emotional disillusionment. Almost everyone has been told that the world is their oyster, but no one adds that the hard shell around it is made of regimes, hierarchies, checkpoints, permissions, and even the colour of your passport.
Globalisation would have been any dreamer’s favourite chapter in a geography class. It promised a borderless world, where mobility was contingent upon willingness alone. A world where everyone travelled freely and intelligence determined where we could study. Also, if you were ambitious enough, you could offer your services in any country of your choice. And everyone could be fortunate enough to eat Pakistani mangoes. Demarcations were meant to be left behind, and hyper-connectivity rendered distance a relic of the past.
However, the trajectory of globalisation could not keep its promise. Once again, states have started to turn inwards and reassert the importance of territorial sovereignty. As we stand today, even the wind would be expected to seek approval before crossing a sky claimed by another.
The uneven distribution of resources made interdependence not just desirable, but crucial. Some states possess strategic advantage with mountain ranges, rivers and fertile soil, whereas others possess access to more minerals and better climates. The Scientist Jared Diamond, in Guns, Germs and Steel, argues that much of modern development can be traced back to geography alone, and that it has determined the fates of societies across the world. From this standpoint, location is decisive in shaping different developmental outcomes of nations.
This is the premise of economic integration because every state benefits from comparative advantage and global connectivity. The exchange of goods, capital, ideas, services, and people is in the interest of all states. This logic, however compelling, does not shed light upon deeper questions. We are not merely economic actors, and states cannot be reduced to economic units within a global marketplace. States embody identity, history and a shared sense of belonging that keep their people together. As globalisation gathered pace, these dimensions did not change, because they are rooted in human nature itself.
Humans do not just need economic integration and access. An essential aspect of human existence lies in the need for Identity and self-definition. This is also reflected in cultural and historic depictions; a popular South Asian drama, Dastaan, set against the backdrop of partition, captures this instinct. The protagonist, upon being stripped of her home and forcibly married to a Sikh man, insists that she can lose everything but never forget who she is. Humans have an irrepressible need to know where they belong. This also extends to political life. Another example can be seen in how populations prioritise self-determination over externally imposed liberation. It is akin to asserting that although it is messy and chaotic, it is my own mess and chaos.
As has happened in Iran, people can be critical of their government yet will stand unified and resist foreign powers claiming to free them through military intervention. The same lesson was also learned by the hegemonic state in Afghanistan. Discontent with those in power is still not a nod to surrendering political agency to outsiders. People want to feel dignified and there is dignity in choosing one’s own fate.
Thus, citizenship is more than legal status and passport; it is a relationship of mutual obligation and shared identity. It gives us certainty and clarity as to who bears responsibility for our welfare, what laws apply to us, and which community we can hold accountable for letting us down. Globalisation’s promise of a borderless world rested on the assumption that human beings are motivated by external incentives like prosperity.
We are not merely economic actors, even if we become disgruntled when we are not acting in pursuit of the same economic ends. We are, intrinsically, creatures of belonging first. We seek identity, continuity, recognition and the reassurance that comes from membership in a political community. Thus, borders endure not because we have not progressed but because they satisfy our deeply human needs for security, belonging and agency.
Borders are as old as the human race; in the early days, territories were demarcated by rivers, streams and mountain ranges, but modern borders have been defined by rolls of razor wire, passport controls and checkpoints. The debate is not whether the world should have open borders; it is whether states can and to what extent sustain openness without risking order. When countries progress, their laws become more transparent and intelligible so that people can better understand and follow them.
Imagining a world with no borders presumes a degree of trust in human beings that history does not substantiate. Proponents of globalisation need to be questioned: when they promised open borders, did they consider the plethora of issues that might accompany them? Such as organised crime, extremist activities, trafficking of drugs, weapons, and people, spread of communicable diseases, widening inequalities, issues of national identity and citizenship, etc. However, this is not a binary issue. The degree of openness a state can sustain depends upon its policy designs and institutional capacity. It will depend on the state’s ability to balance its humanitarian and security obligations with its economic needs and social cohesion,
My point is not to advocate for stringent restrictions and far-right approaches to migration. However, to continue to imagine a borderless world, where openness and free movement are paramount, is an illusion. We live in a densely connected system, which necessitates regulations and safeguards. Neighbourhoods sustain because doors exist; access is regulated, and security is in place.
Through the same lens, states should approach this with a precise balancing act, regulating their policies based on their institutional capacity. Therefore, the future should not mandate absolutist, blanket policies, but rather calibrated permeability. A state’s first obligation remains the protection of those within its jurisdiction. Pakistan’s own experience should caution against confusing openness with relinquishing safeguards. The consequences of which we continue to bear in lives lost, trust deficit in our leaders, and a generation shaped by the horrors of terrorism.