Buying time not future

A few years back, the 18th Amendment was introduced with the promise that devolution of power is necessary to solve the people’s problems. It was necessary to empower people and bring resources to the ground level to positively impact their lives. The devolution of power was promised through the establishment of strong local governments.    However, devolution stalled at the provincial level.  Provincial governments refused to grant the promised autonomy to local governments. Moreover, local governments do not have financial autonomy at all, which is a prerequisite to empower them. For example, political parties at the provincial level use it to get maximum financial resources and autonomy, but refuse to devolve it to local governments.  Therefore, instead of benefiting people and the country, it has added to problems. Now, it is on the verge of collapse. Many voices ask to roll back the 18th Amendment, and they are justified.     Now the debate has started about creating new provinces, and the size of provinces is portrayed as a problem, as devolution of power and local governments were portrayed before the 18th Amendment. However, before creating new provinces, there is a need to learn from the failure of the 18th Amendment. It is necessary to analyze the reasons for the failure of the 18th Amendment. There can be many reasons, but the most prominent ones were governance and political culture. Thus, there is a need to first understand these before venturing into creating new provinces.    What is governance? There are different ways to define governance, but for me, “governance is an art and a science for satisfying people’s needs, building institutions to protect their interests and life, and keeping people’s aspirations or dreams alive. Governance is a basic ingredient of state-building and sustaining it; rather, it shoulders the existence of the state. Why? Because it ensures justice and social justice, provides security, and protects people from injustice and security threats. It holds true from ancient times to modern statehood. Hence, it is used to measure a country’s success and failure.    Over time, humans have developed different models of governance. In modern history, there are three prominent models: Western, socialist, and empathy-based (Islamic) models. The Western model, based on Liberal democracy, prefers democratic governance, which hinges on elections and accountability. It works through the slogan “government of the people, by the people, and for the people.” Unfortunately, over time, this slogan and accountability began to weaken, and elections alone remain the main component. Moreover, manipulation of the election process and the use of money further weaken the system, as marginalized people get pushed out of the system. Popular slogans, identity, ethnicity, and hate become the driving force.      The socialist model is based on the slogan of people-centric governance and the whole-process people’s democracy. People-centric governance means all policies and actions must be people-oriented, and outcomes must serve the people and bring positive change in their lives. The whole process of people’s democracy means that the interaction between the state and the people is continuous, not just at election time. Moreover, the merit and character of governance actors are determining factors to ensure people-centric governance. This model was invented in China and is practiced there, where it has achieved remarkable success.     The Islamic model hinges on three fundamental pillars: empathy, people, and accountability, in accordance with Sharia law. Empathy and people must be the focus of all policies and actions at all levels. People’s say must matter at all levels. Accountability must be ensured at all levels, without any discrimination. Famous incidents of Hazarat Umer (RA) and Hazarat Ali provide the true essence of accountability and governance. Lastly, the actors of governance must have the highest virtuous character and should not engage in any form of prejudiced behavior. Unfortunately, it is not practiced anywhere in the contemporary world.       From the above comparison, it can be inferred that despite differences in philosophy and actions, the goal of each model remains the same: to serve the people. Serving the people is the key to sustaining power and the state.    Unfortunately, Pakistan does not follow any of these models. Pakistan has its own style of governance, which is a mix of everything, and we cannot say exactly what it is. However, the most prominent features of our governance are relationship-based networks, misuse of power, and a money- and power-driven system. The system is devised through complicated webs of laws, rules, and requirements. It makes the system prone to corruption and rent-seeking behavior, exclusiveness, and clubs of interest groups, which have become common elements. The system operates through money in exchange for favors, business deals, or power and influence, and is facilitated by relationship-based networks.    It has given rise to a new type of governance model: elusive governance. There is no systematic way to plan and execute the plans. Plans are being made for short-term gains, not with proper planning or a futuristic approach. Haphazardness has become the most prominent feature of governance. People and people’s interests are largely missing. Let’s try to understand it with an example from Islamabad, the seat of government.    A few years ago, the Pakistani government initiated the Safe City program. The government spent billions of rupees to complete the Safe City program. It was sold as a program to secure the people. After that, a new government came to power and initiated the construction of signal-free corridors by building underpasses and flyovers. The government again spent billions of rupees to build the signal-free corridors. People were told it was being done to serve them by facilitating mobility. The process is still going on.     After spending hundreds of billions on the Safe City program and signal-free corridors, the government one day decided to install check posts at major points. The installation of check posts severely disrupts traffic flow and puts the lives of hundreds of people at risk across the city every day. Now, a common-sense question is: why do governments spend

Pakistan was achieved on the fourteenth of August in the year nineteen hundred and forty-seven, after sacrifices of a magnitude that still stir the soul and a struggle whose tirelessness remains an enduring lesson. Millions crossed borders in those turbulent months, leaving behind ancestral homes, familial graves, and the familiar soil of generations, so that a new homeland might rise where Muslims could live according to their faith and their free will. We stand now upon the threshold of the eighth decade of that hard-won independence. I, a Pakistani by birth and by conviction, have myself lived nearly fifty-eight years within the borders of this free land. This country conferred upon me an identity that no foreign power could erase, furnished me with the means of an independent existence—schools in which to learn, roads upon which to travel, markets in which to earn my bread—bestowed a measure of respect in the eyes of the world, and, in some degree, granted me a name among my fellows. Yet the question returns, quietly and persistently, like a debt long deferred; what have I given in return? Have I ever paused long enough, in the press of daily concerns, to weigh that debt with honesty? The same inquiry must be put, with equal seriousness and without partiality, to the institutions that were meant to serve as the pillars of the state, and to the rulers and authorities who have held power through these eighty years. What account can they render of their stewardship? Parliament was intended as the voice of the people; the courts as the guardians of justice; the civil service as the steady hand of administration; the universities as the nurseries of thought and character. Have these bodies discharged their duties with fidelity, or have they at times become arenas of personal ambition, partisan calculation, and the slow corrosion of public trust? The rulers who succeeded one another, whether civilian or military, received the same inheritance of soil, of people, and of hope. What have they added to the national store of justice, of prosperity, of self-respect, and of unity? The record is mixed, and the gaps are painful to contemplate. Have we, as a people, ever undertaken a true reckoning of our collective performance—not the ritual of speeches on national days, but a sober examination of conscience? And if such an accounting was made, did it lead to any genuine reformation of our ways, or did we merely resume the old habits once the anniversary had passed? Where, in truth, does Pakistan stand as a state at this present hour? We possess a land rich in rivers and fertile plains, a people endowed with resilience and talent, a strategic position that nature itself seems to have marked for consequence. Yet we continue to wrestle with the burdens of poverty that still touch too many homes, with the lingering shadows of disorder in parts of the country, with the uneasy balance between institutions that ought to complement one another, and with the persistent temptation to place private gain above the common good. Have we preserved, or have we frittered away, the sacred trust that our ancestors placed in our hands when they bequeathed us this country? That trust was not lightly given. It demanded vigilance against tyranny, honesty in public dealing, a willingness to educate the young in both knowledge and character, and a readiness to place the welfare of the whole above the advantage of the few. Looking back across the decades, one is compelled to ask whether that demand has been met in full measure. I do not exempt myself from this examination. For nearly six decades I have drawn from the well of national life—the protection of law, the opportunity to work and to speak, the simple privilege of calling myself a citizen of a free land. Have my contributions matched the gifts received? Have I laboured, in whatever sphere was allotted me, to strengthen rather than weaken the fabric of the republic? Have I spoken truth when silence was easier, practised fairness when partiality promised profit, and taught the rising generation that freedom is not a birthright to be consumed but a responsibility to be renewed? Honesty requires that each of us answer such questions in the solitude of his own heart, without the convenient shield of collective excuses or the comfortable habit of blaming those who came before. Enough, then, of evasion. The hour has come for every citizen, high or low, including the writer of these lines, to conduct a personal audit. Let each examine what he has taken and what he has returned. Let the institutions examine their fidelity to the purposes for which they were created. Let those who hold authority examine whether their decisions have served the enduring interests of the state or the fleeting interests of the moment. Only through such unsparing self-examination, followed by the hard work of reform, can the trust of the founders be renewed and the promise of Pakistan still be fulfilled for those who will inherit what we leave behind.

Development is the process of creating lasting improvements in the lives of people by addressing their genuine social, economic, and public needs and not merely constructing new infrastructure, completing projects, impressive photographs, or utilising the allocated public funds. In a true sense, the real measure of development is whether the real problem has been solved, and whether the interventions have created sustainable public value and an evident change in social or economic conditions of the society. A project should begin with a clearly defined problem and public need. Its vision, goals, activities, and measurable indicators should follow the problem. In professional project management practices, all these elements are recorded in the planning and design phase. In Pakistan, we have mastered the art of reporting these elements without achieving any meaningful results. Imagine a public park surrounded by a steel fence. Children and families using the park are visible from the road. If funds are available and privacy is the genuine concern, the executing agency can add steel sheets, plant trees, or use temporary screens. Each solution is inexpensive and retains the existing structure. However, if the focus is primarily on expenditure, the agency may remove the functioning fence and replace it with a new brick wall. This may have a longer life, but is not necessarily the most economical or appropriate solution. Considering Pakistan’s fragile economic outlook, many major development projects are financed through foreign loans. Such funds are eventually repaid, often with interest. Money spent on an unnecessary intervention is no longer available for genuine public need. This is a recurring weakness in Pakistan, where success is measured by the money spent, not by the effectiveness of the solution. This recalls Peter Drucker’s observation. “There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all.” The continued existence of infrastructure built during the Mughal and British periods is in contrast with contemporary projects, which deteriorate within years. This might be a romantic comparison, influenced by the fact that we see only the structures that survived, but durability and long-term public value are not central to our project culture. The same mindset is evident in urban beautification schemes. Imagine a local government installs a 15-foot-high statue. The project is indeed beautiful and will produce attractive photographs for official reports, but if the same statue is mounted on thoughtfully designed columns, the shaded seating can be utilised by daily wage workers who gather at bus stops, on footpaths, and in other public spaces because no designated facility is available. This is not an encroachment issue, but a planning failure. Planners and designers should use one intervention to achieve multiple objectives. Imagine a decades-old roundabout, with a working fountain surrounded by grass. During hot afternoons, labourers and children visit the site to cool themselves in the fountain’s spray. Officials might consider this behaviour undesirable and wish to block access. They can barricade it through small trees or shrubs, but the typical response will be to uproot the entire structure, construct a new fountain, and replace the grass with artificial green carpet. The public behaviour may reflect the unavailability of affordable recreational areas or public bathing facilities. Yet, the official solution destroys a functioning public asset, removes a natural green area, and spends substantial funds without addressing the underlying need. Needs assessment appears in project reports, but they are rarely conducted with sufficient depth. Imagine a posh housing society, where tubewells were eventually replaced by private borewells. Residents have spent a considerable amount to arrange their own water supply. Now, if any government agency has received funds for water distribution, they should spend it in areas where the people are still digging borewells or have no access to clean drinking water. However, again the typical response will be to spend millions in this posh area, where households have already arranged their own water supply. The fall of the water table is the real problem, which in this case will persist after spending millions. Pakistan has an extensive planning structure, which includes the federal and provincial bodies, planning departments in government organizations, consultants, and project management units. In 2025-26 alone, the National Economic Council approved the national development portfolio of 4.224 trillion. Such substantial expenditure should produce visible and lasting improvement in people live. The problem, therefore, is not insufficient funding, but how projects are identified, designed, approved, and evaluated. The same problem is visible in education, health, and administrative projects. Consider a basic health unit or education facility with a leaking roof. The available funds should be directed to fix the roof. However, funds are allocated to boundary wall, new signage, and in some cases, for an entirely new building. Similarly, for decade, government departments are trying to digitise their operations. For a quick solution, these departments procure specialised softwares, which has high licensing costs, and inadequate training mechanisms. After years of implementation, enforcement, and expenditure, the same departments revert to paper files or to a new software. The first step should be, to strengthen the capacity of all relevant staff in problem identification and root cause analysis. Every project initiation document should clearly identify the problem, public need, examine alternatives, and link the proposed intervention to public value. These elements should always be in quantifiable terms. Moreover, the project indicators should measure the extent to which the problem is solved and the post-completion evaluation should validate the visualized public benefits. Institutions move energetically, spend heavily, and report extensively, but bypass the original problem. Pakistan does not simply need more projects; it needs projects to solve problems; it needs interventions that respond to genuine needs, preserve what already works, and provide sustainable public value. The true measure should not be the amount spent but the resolution of the problem. Unless problem-solving becomes central to planning and evaluation, fund utilisation will continue to be mistaken for development and detour away from progress we seek. Writers  Dr. Sikandar Bilal Khattak  Academician with Research Interest in Sustainable Systems Can be

Pakistan’s debt problem has entered a new phase. The headline figure is alarming: total debt and liabilities reached Rs. 99.59 trillion by the end of fiscal year (FY) 2025-26. The deeper concern, however, lies in the composition of this debt, the burden of servicing it and the channels through which public borrowing now affects every productive sector of the economy. According to the latest State Bank of Pakistan data, total debt stood at Rs. 97.88 trillion. Gross government domestic debt reached Rs. 59.44 trillion, while external debt amounted to Rs. 36.20 trillion. Central government debt increased by 7.39% over the preceding year to Rs. 83.64 trillion. External debt and liabilities stood at US$138.85 billion. These numbers confirm the central argument developed in the a ten-part series published in these columns [‘Bankruptcy of ideas—X: Debt, Taxes & Democracy’, Minute Mirror, June 21, 2026]. Pakistan has not merely borrowed against its future. It has increasingly borrowed to service earlier borrowing, while failing to create sufficient productive capacity from the accumulated debt.   ‏The external debt-servicing profile for FY2026 makes this particularly clear. Pakistan serviced US$21.59 billion of external debt during the year. An extraordinary US$10.14 billion—nearly half of the annual amount—fell in the final quarter alone. Quarterly servicing was 2.63 times the amount paid in the preceding quarter, mainly because principal repayments jumped from US$2.70 billion in the third quarter to US$8.81 billion in the fourth. This concentration of repayments is as important as the overall debt stock. A country may carry a large debt if its economy generates sufficient revenue, exports and foreign exchange to service it. Pakistan’s difficulty is that debt obligations have expanded much faster than the productive and export capacities needed to meet them. The debt accumulated over decades cannot be attributed to one government or one fiscal year. Persistent fiscal deficits, a narrow and inequitable tax base, losses of state-owned enterprises, the energy-sector circular debt, excessive recurrent expenditure, exchange-rate depreciation and repeated balance-of-payments crises have all contributed to it. Borrowing became the preferred substitute for reform.  Governments borrowed because they could not tax influential sectors, restructure loss-making enterprises, reduce wasteful expenditure or build a competitive export economy. External lenders financed temporary stability, while domestic banks financed the fiscal deficit. Each arrangement postponed difficult decisions without removing the causes of the crisis. The Ministry of Finance reported public debt at 70.7% of GDP by June 2025. The ratio may improve when nominal GDP grows faster than debt, especially during periods of inflation, fiscal consolidation and lower interest rates. A declining debt-to-GDP ratio, however, does not necessarily mean that the debt burden has become harmless. Pakistan’s debt stock is still increasing. What has improved is the immediate cost of servicing parts of it. Total debt and liabilities servicing declined from Rs. 13.16 trillion in FY2025 to Rs. 11.97 trillion in FY2026. Interest payments on debt fell by more than 23%, from Rs. 9.47 trillion to Rs. 7.27 trillion, largely because lower policy rates reduced the cost of servicing domestic government debt. Interest payments on gross government domestic debt consequently fell from Rs. 8.08 trillion to Rs5.99 trillion. This is welcome relief. It should not be presented as the end of the debt crisis. Lower interest rates reduce the flow cost of debt; they do not extinguish the stock. Principal repayments on external debt and liabilities increased from Rs. 3.47 trillion to Rs. 4.47 trillion during FY2026. Pakistan therefore obtained relief on domestic interest payments while facing a substantially heavier external repayment burden. The distinction is between debt management and economic transformation. Pakistan may be moving from an acute debt-accumulation crisis towards a more manageable financing position. It has not escaped debtocracy—the system in which fiscal policy, taxation, banking, foreign relations and development priorities become subordinate to the requirements of borrowing and repayment. Debtocracy does not remain confined to the accounts of the Ministry of Finance. It is transmitted throughout the economy. The first channel is the banking system. Government securities offer banks sovereign backing, liquidity and attractive risk-adjusted returns. Lending to the government is easier than evaluating businesses, financing innovation or supporting small and medium enterprises. A large domestic borrowing requirement therefore creates continuous competition for available liquidity. The result is crowding out. The State obtains the funds it requires, banks earn relatively secure returns and the private sector bears the adjustment. Productive businesses face limited access to credit, higher risk premiums and shorter financing horizons. Smaller enterprises suffer the most because they cannot compete with the sovereign for bank liquidity. This creates a financial system that can remain profitable while the productive economy remains weak. Deposits are mobilised from citizens and businesses, channelled into government securities, and then used substantially to meet recurrent expenditure and service earlier debt. Banking expands without an equivalent expansion in productive capacity. The second channel operates through foreign exchange. External debt repayment creates demand for dollars. That demand places pressure on reserves and the current account. Any resulting exchange-rate depreciation increases the rupee value of external liabilities and raises the domestic price of imported fuel, machinery, raw materials and intermediate goods.  The chain is direct: External repayment creates foreign-exchange demand; reserve pressure increases exchange-rate sensitivity; depreciation generates imported inflation; and inflation raises working-capital requirements and production costs. Debt consequently becomes a corporate balance-sheet issue. An industrial enterprise may have no external loan, yet still bear the effects of sovereign external debt through a weaker rupee, costlier imports, higher energy prices and restricted access to domestic credit. Consumers ultimately pay through inflation, reduced employment and lower real incomes. The third channel is fiscal. Every rupee allocated to debt servicing is a rupee unavailable for education, health, water, climate resilience and productive infrastructure—unless the State raises additional revenue or borrows again. Pakistan then enters a circular arrangement: borrowing creates servicing obligations, servicing compresses development expenditure, weak development limits growth and revenue, and insufficient revenue necessitates further borrowing. This is why a primary surplus, though necessary, is not sufficient. It can stabilise debt dynamics, but

   For as long as the world can recall, the United States have controllably preserved their seat as the strongest one in the council of global superpowers- defeating the Nazis, USSR and setting their currency as the medium of trade and exchange. However, in recent events this strong hold seems to have become weakened as on the other side of the world a new power emerges, a power that the United States considers the biggest threat to their existence- the new super power China.   Ironically, China was still developing and submerged in poverty a few decades ago holding up its communist views and rejecting the new capitalist western world. Though they were not completely cut off on giving this new ideology a try, opening their first economic zone in Shenzhen in 1980 to pursue foreign investments and market based economic trade. Soon enough they realized the potential it had and once they started, they were quite impossible to stop.   It was in the 2010s that China had found numerous ways to include itself in the exporting and manufacturing industry. Every household was filled with items labeled “made in China”, however they were referred to as a low quality item hence cheaper. China nevertheless learnt, and they were fast learners. They knew that in a world dominated and feared by the United States they would have to have a friendlier approach. They started helping countries including Pakistan and many African nations with infrastructure projects in exchange for leverage and usage of their resources.   On the outside it seemed like a friendly deal, a helpful one even, but China knew that this was their way into achieving ultimate domination. The US was watching this very closely knowing very well what kind of abomination was taking place in front of their eyes, yet they could only spread propaganda about it, calling it “Debt trap Diplomacy” and “Predatory Lending”. The world did not give much thought since theyfinally had someone helping them without any threats and sanctions which they had experienced harshly in the past with the United States .   Uptil now, the USA still had the upper hand on oil and currency domination which was soon to get shaken up as well. Bill Clinton had put a ban on trading Iranian oil in his regime and so was done to Russia after they invaded Ukraine, meaning almost the whole world trading in US dollars could not buy Russian and Iranian oil.  Few of the other powerful currencies that could trade without the US dollar are euro, Japanese yen and Chinese yuan. Thus only China had the willingness to buy the sanctioned oil in their currency under different company names, trade routes which the US would find it difficult to identify and stop.   The United States has had  a history of having these geographical threats against major countries in order to secure their position. The same goes with China, with them using the strait of Malacca in southeast Asia as a passage they could close which would disrupt 80% of China’s oil trade. Chinese leaders have called this the “Malacca Dilemma” in the past.   Since the Iran war, it has come to light that China has once again found a path out of this misery and showed the world silently that this dilemma is far gone. When the whole world was panicking due to the Strait of Harmoz shutting down, China with no hurdles dropped their oil imports by 50% and started using their oil reserves which were more than double than usa. This was a direct showcase to the USA that even if they block straight out of Malacca- China will survive and wont go into an economic shutdown.   Now it is very evident that China has secured its position as an export leader, having significant oil reserves, defenses as well as the support of major countries through mutual diplomacy, and the US is forced down on its knees- especially after the Trump and Biden administration. The US has no options but to comply with China which was seen when Trump and his billionaire delegation visited China- which they were deemed to be intimidated by.

By General Ghulam Mustafa (Served in different staff and command assignments, commanded a Corps, raised and commanded Army Strategic Force Command) & Engineer Arshad H Abbasi, Co-founder, Energy Excellence Centres at NUST and Engineering University Peshawar, International Transboundary Water Expert  Prime Minister Sahib, With the deepest respect, and as one voice among the 260 million you lead, we write to you today not to doubt your resolve, but to place before you what we believe you deserve to see in full — because a nation that trusts its Prime Minister also trusts him to be given the whole picture. On August 13, 2026, on the eve of our Independence Day, you stood at the inauguration of the Yadgar-e-Fatah monument in Islamabad and gave voice to what every Pakistani feels in their heart. “I declare in clear terms that every single drop of Pakistan’s water is our red line,” you said, warning that if India “does not come to its senses,” it would be “responded to directly.” We were moved by those words, Sir, as was the nation. It was the latest chapter in a warning you have repeated for over a year, since India placed the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty in abeyance following the April 2025 Pahalgam attack — a treaty that had, for six decades, survived three wars precisely because water was once considered too sacred, too existential, to be weaponized. It is with humility, then, and not with any wish to add to your burdens, that we ask you to consider what has been happening quietly at the river’s source while that red line was being drawn. What Has Been Happening in Ladakh: Almost two and a half months before your Independence Day address, on May 27, 2026, India inaugurated what it proudly called a first: the country’s inaugural Rock Check Dam, built across the Indus itself near Upshi village in Leh district, at 11,400 feet. Built in a mere seven days from 180 metric tonnes of interlocking riverbed boulders, without a gram of cement, it now holds back a 1,500-foot pool capable of storing 40 million litres — roughly 200 acre-feet — of Indus water. We respectfully submit that it may be something more: the opening move of the Sindhu Jal Samriddhi Abhiyan, a Ladakh-wide water campaign launched by Lieutenant Governor Vinai Kumar Saxena. It does not stand alone, Sir. It sits alongside the newly restored 43-kilometre Igoo–Phey canal; the Mahey Tokpo–Raldho canal at 14,000 feet, drawing from Yaya Tso Lake; the Brakdongthang Bodh Kharbu canal in Kargil; solar-powered lift-irrigation schemes at Latoo and Karsha; and Project Him Sarovar, a plan for fifty to one hundred small reservoirs across Leh and Kargil, unveiled on April 10, 2026, to capture glacier melt that would otherwise flow downstream toward us. We ask this humbly: for whom is all this water truly being gathered? Leh district is home to barely 160,000 people. It is also home to the Western Air Command’s most strategically dense high-altitude military footprint on India’s borders — Leh Air Force Station, the newly upgraded Mudh-Nyoma fighter base, Thoise Air Force Station feeding the Siachen front, and the world’s highest airstrip at Daulat Beg Oldi. Add the XIV “Fire and Fury” Corps and the newly raised divisions garrisoning eastern Ladakh, and a different picture may be emerging — one where the deepest beneficiary of this irrigation campaign is not the Ladakhi farmer but the soldier and the forward base that no longer wishes to depend on a single vulnerable mountain road. The massive military presence, characterized by extensive garrisons and airbases in the fragile Siachen and Ladakh regions, acts as a primary catalyst for glacial retreat, directly exacerbating climate vulnerabilities in downstream Pakistan We say plainly, Sir, out of fairness: under Annexure E of the treaty, India is permitted non-consumptive storage of up to 0.40 million acre-feet on the Indus main stem in the Ladakh sector, and a 200-acre-foot check dam, judged alone, is a small thing against that number. Our concern is not any single dam. It is the pattern — check dams, canals, lift schemes, and a hundred small reservoirs, each defensible on its own, together forming a system capable of holding back water at precisely the moment a suspended treaty leaves India no obligation to release it. You declare that Pakistan will not cede a single drop of water, yet the reality is otherwise. The diversion of Indus waters—driven by a stated Indian policy of zero flow to Pakistan—is already underway. Regrettably, your own ministries have taken this matter to global forums, even as the people of Ladakh bravely oppose this very diversion into their fragile permafrost lands.   Respectfully, we also note that your own minister is now questioning the very stability of governance in Pakistan. If that is so, Sir, we urge you—with humility and candour—to look inward before raising your voice outward. And downstream, Sir, is where our entire modern economy waits. Tarbela Dam alone generates close to 4,888 megawatts today, with capacity meant to rise toward 6,418. The 4,500-megawatt Diamer-Bhasha Dam and the 4,320-megawatt Dasu Dam were built on the assumption of a river that keeps flowing. To choke that flow at its source, even gradually, even in the name of a farmer’s canal, is to threaten the affordability of electricity for a nation already straining under its cost — and the food and economic security bound up with it. We wish to be clear: this is not written against Ladakh’s own people, or their right to a better harvest. It is worth remembering, respectfully, that Ladakh’s own most prominent son, the engineer and activist Sonam Wangchuk, our friend too, has spent years warning — through repeated hunger strikes over Ladakh’s fragile ecology and constitutional status — that his homeland’s landscape is being reshaped less for its own people than for priorities decided in Delhi. He has carried that protest in his own body, across multiple fasts since 2024. A Humble Word on Timing- We say this, Prime Minister