Opinion

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

June 24, 1989, Comrade Jiang Zemin assumed the charge of Secretary General of the CPC just after the Tiananmen Square incident. This was orchestrated by ideological rivals, who instigated people with foreign support under the guise of corruption, inflation, political participation, and human resource development for the new economy. No doubt there were challenges, but the government was doing everything it could to control them and bring positive change to people’s lives. It required patience and time. However, the ideological rivals and foreign forces decided to exploit that window of opportunity and bring down the CPC.   Therefore, right after assuming the charge, Secretary General Jiang Zemin had to deal with Western countries’ false propaganda campaign against China. The West was propagating that China used brutal force and undermined human rights. However, it did not shake his determination to restore stability, the cornerstone of CPC policy. CPC is convinced that without stability, the country cannot move forward. After tackling it, he focused on economic reforms, especially after becoming President and paramount leader in 1993. From here, a new phase of reforms started. The CPC, with President Jiang at its core, began to juggle policies and options to sustain growth, ensure stable government revenue, and address people’s problems. Thus, President Jiang Zemin, with the guidance of elders, especially Deng Xiaoping, accelerated the reforms and the introduction of market-oriented policies. He took many innovative decisions to accelerate economic growth, enhance outreach, and strengthen international relations and security. First, he kick-started the first phase of privatization to reduce the burden on the State and spur private sector growth. The number of State-owned enterprises fell from 262,000 to 159,000. Almost 40 million people lost their jobs, but China continued the reform.  However, China’s privatization was led by a wise and smart policy. First, China identified the requirements for the private sector and SOEs to ensure a balance between tax and non-tax revenue. Second, China did not privatize critical industrial sectors or enterprises. Third, China established mechanisms to mitigate the impact on people and keep them engaged, thereby ensuring stability.   Second, President Jiang Zemin led China’s accession to the World Trade Organization (WTO). It was another landmark decision, which revolutionized China’s economic growth and development. After joining the WTO, China grew and developed by leaps and bounds. It also ushered in a new era of global economic linkages, which helped China develop rapidly and curb poverty. China is now the world’s largest trading partner, with over US$6 trillion in 2025, and the second-largest economy. Third, he prohibited the army from taking part in economic ventures.  Third, he introduced a strategy to revitalize the economy through science and education. He launched two landmark initiatives, Project 211 and Project 985, under this strategy. Project 211 was designed to build institutions for the 21st century. It was decided that 100 universities would be prepared for the 21st century.  For that purpose, 115 universities were identified. Project 985 was designed to create world-class universities, and 39 universities were under the project.   On the diplomatic front, he also achieved many successes. First, Hong Kong and Macau were reunited with the mainland. Second, he signed a friendship treaty with Russia and launched the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) in collaboration with Russia. Now, the SCO is one of the world’s major organizations in a multipolar world. Fourth, he also completed China’s accession to the World Trade Organization (WTO).  However, President Jiang Zemin’s most significant work was his theory of the Three Represents: the development trend of China’s advanced productive forces, the orientation of China’s advanced culture, and the fundamental interests of the overwhelming majority of the Chinese people. The Three Represents theory is a major work of the Party, following Deng Xiaoping’s theory, in building the modern Party. It reflects the CPC’s philosophy and Chinese political culture, which emphasize evolution and reform in line with ground realities. However, the interests of the people must be the paramount guiding principle. President Jiang Zemin started work just after assuming the position of Secretary General, following Tiananmen Square.  The analysis of Three Represents highlights three important things. First, it urges the Party to better serve the people and embrace new classes. Thus, Three Represents opened the Party’s doors to new classes including entrepreneurs, businessmen, and professionals. It was necessary to diversify and give development new impetus by making the Party more inclusive. However, it sparked debate among Party members and other circles. The conservative elements of the Party were not ready to accept the business community and entrepreneurs. However, there was wider support for the inclusion within and outside the Party.  Second, Three Represents encouraged the enhanced role of science, education, and technology in leading the new phase of development. Although the revitalization of the economy through science and education was already underway, there was a need to accelerate the process further.  Third, the Party envisioned that it must strive to modernize culture in accordance with socialist values and norms.  Simultaneously, President Jiang Zemin also encountered some serious problems. First of all, relations with the USA were a constant irritant. The USA continued to interfere in Taiwan and internal affairs. The situation was further complicated by the bombing of the Chinese embassy in Belgrade and the Hainan incident by USA forces. The Hainan incident was a complicated issue that threatened peace. Second, the third Taiwan Strait Crisis appeared during his tenure. On the domestic front, he had to face an intensive debate over the inclusion of business groups and entrepreneurs in the Party. Moreover, privatization, especially after accession to the WTO, generated debate in the country. However, he solved these issues with wisdom and smart policy.   In conclusion, the above discussion indicates that President Jiang Zemin assumed leadership at a critical rather than a difficult time. However, he steered the country with dedication, wisdom, and smart policies. The ultimate objective of his policies was to serve the people and build an inclusive Party in line with new realities. That’s why he is considered one of

The passing of Professor Amin Mughal in London on August 12, 2026, at the age of 91, has left me with an overwhelming sense of personal bereavement. I have lost a mentor, friend and former colleague; Pakistan has lost one of the last representatives of a generation for whom progressive politics was inseparable from humanism, scholarship, intellectual integrity and personal courage. Harris Khalique called his departure “یہ ماتمِ وقت کی گھڑی ہے”—an hour for mourning the times—and described him as “the last of the Mohicans who touched so many lives.” These words capture the magnitude of the loss. Professor Mughal belonged to a generation that imagined Pakistan as a democratic, pluralistic and egalitarian state—not as a security-dominated order governed by fear, dogma and privilege. Born in Punjab in 1935, he taught English at Islamia College, Civil Lines, Lahore. His teaching career there ended because of his trade union activities. For Professor Mughal, principles were never dispensable instruments of convenience. Losing employment did not silence him. Along with Professor Manzoor Ahmed, he helped establish Shah Hussain College, transforming an act of official victimisation into another avenue for education and intellectual resistance. As a leader of the National Awami Party, he was imprisoned more than once. His politics sprang from compassion for workers, peasants, minorities and all those denied dignity by structures of power. It was not the doctrinaire radicalism of slogans. It was a deeply humane commitment to freedom from exploitation, arbitrary authority and cultural suffocation. He was associated with Lail-o-Nahar and later with the weekly Viewpoint, edited by the legendary Mazhar Ali Khan. I had the privilege of working with Professor Mughal at Viewpoint from 1979 to 1984. Its modest office at 4-Lawrence Road, Lahore, became my real university. Mazhar Ali Khan, I.A. Rehman, Zafar Iqbal Mirza—affectionately known as ZIM—Alys Faiz and Amin Mughal represented journalism as a public trust rather than a commercial enterprise. Reflecting on those formative years in my tribute to ZIM, I wrote: “Amin Mughal and Alys Faiz were so proficient in writing that few could match their stature. They also taught me the art of journalism with great affection and dedication.” That remains one of the greatest blessings of my life. Professor Mughal taught by example. His scholarship was vast, his editing precise and his intellectual standards uncompromising. He corrected younger colleagues without belittling them and encouraged inquiry without demanding conformity. The Viewpoint collective stood firm during General Ziaul Haq’s brutal dictatorship, when truth invited censorship, dismissal, imprisonment or exile. Literature and journalism became important sites of resistance during those years. Professor Mughal understood that control over language, culture and historical memory was central to authoritarian rule. His engagement with Urdu and Punjabi literature was therefore never merely aesthetic; it was part of a larger struggle to recover suppressed voices and alternative visions of Pakistan. Forced into political exile in 1984, he settled in London and never returned to Pakistan. Exile, however, could not sever his intellectual or emotional relationship with his homeland. He worked for Daily Jang and, in the early 1990s, edited the Urdu daily Awaaz. Although the newspaper survived for only a little over a year, it represented another attempt to provide Britain’s Pakistani community with a serious and progressive public forum. Writing in The News on Sunday in 2008, Arif Azad recalled Professor Mughal as looking “his usual sharp and buoyant self, dressed in impeccable attire as is his wont.” He described him as belonging to “the vanishing breed of left-wing Pakistan intellectuals” in whom one could still discern the lofty and humane aspirations associated with Pakistan’s early journey. The description was exact. Professor Mughal’s impeccable dress reflected something deeper: an inner discipline, dignity and refusal to be diminished by adversity. Political persecution could deprive him of employment and homeland, but it could not deprive him of intellectual independence or personal grace. His Finchley home gradually became, in Arif Azad’s memorable formulation, “a port of call” for visiting writers, politicians and political and cultural activists from both sides of the border. For decades it served as an informal salon, archive and classroom. Generations of visitors encountered there a formidable memory, an incisive mind and a host of unfailing generosity. Even when he withdrew from active engagement in South Asian politics, he remained an enduring reference point for politically conscious Pakistanis in Britain. His interests ranged across philosophy, literature, history, political economy and contemporary affairs. He wrote perceptively on Bhagat Singh and, following Benazir Bhutto’s assassination, produced After Benazir Bhutto: Some reflections. Although he had opposed her politics, he recognised her courage and wrote that in the imagination of the masses she had acquired a mystical significance destined to inspire future struggles. That ability to rise above personal political preference and acknowledge truth distinguished him as a genuine intellectual. Professor Mughal’s life reminds us that exile is not merely physical displacement. It is also the condition imposed upon ideas that a state refuses to accommodate. Pakistan expelled or marginalised many of its finest minds and then wondered why intolerance, intellectual poverty and historical amnesia prevailed. Professor Mughal remained physically in London, but intellectually he never ceased to inhabit the Pakistan for which he had struggled. One by one, the great teachers of my Viewpoint years have departed. Their passing makes the country feel lonelier and its moral landscape immeasurably poorer. Professor Amin Mughal leaves no office, fortune or monument carrying his name. His true legacy survives in the minds he liberated, the writers he encouraged, the causes he defended and the generations he taught to question received wisdom. Farewell, dear mentor and friend. You lived in exile, but your ideas never left us. They will remain at home wherever people struggle for a democratic, pluralistic, just and humane Pakistan.

In the story of Pakistan’s creation, certain names shine with a brightness that time cannot dim. Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah stands as the founder of the nation, but standing quietly, resolutely, and often invisibly beside him for over two decades was his younger sister, Fatima Jinnah. History remembers her as Madar-e-Millat, the Mother of the Nation, a title she earned not through political office or public spectacle, but through an entire life of sacrifice, loyalty, intellect, and quiet strength. She was a woman decades ahead of her time, a qualified dental surgeon, a fiercely independent thinker, a stylish and modern presence in gharara and sleeveless blouse, and a woman who chose singlehood not out of misfortune but out of conviction. Her life offers Pakistani women today a template of dignity, purpose, and self-possession that remains as relevant now as it was in the twentieth century. Born on July 30, 1893, in Karachi, Fatima Jinnah grew up in a household that valued learning, even when it was unusual for girls of that era to pursue higher education. She enrolled at the University of Calcutta and earned a degree in dental surgery from Dr. R. Ahmed Dental College, becoming one of the first Muslim women in South Asia to qualify as a dentist. In 1923, she opened her own dental clinic in Bombay. This was no small achievement. At a time when most women of her class and background were confined to domestic roles, Fatima Jinnah built a professional identity through her own intellect and discipline. Her clinic flourished, and she earned both financial independence and social respect as a successful, self-made professional woman. She was, in every sense, a pioneer of women’s participation in modern professions in the subcontinent. Fatima Jinnah’s life took a defining turn following the death of Ruttie Jinnah, the Quaid’s wife, in 1929. Ruttie’s passing left both Muhammad Ali Jinnah and his young daughter Dina in a state of profound grief and vulnerability. It was at this moment that Fatima made a choice that would alter the course of her own life entirely, she closed her thriving dental practice and moved in with her brother to manage his household, raise Dina, and become his constant companion and confidante. This decision deserves to be understood not as a passive act of familial duty, but as a deliberate and enormous personal sacrifice. She was a woman who had built something of her own, a career, an income, an identity outside of any man’s shadow, and she set it aside willingly. From that point onward, she devoted herself entirely to supporting her brother’s political mission, managing his correspondence, organizing his household, accompanying him on tours across India, and providing the emotional steadiness that allowed him to focus on the arduous struggle for Pakistan. She sat beside him in All India Muslim League sessions, engaged with women’s wings of the movement, and became, in effect, his closest advisor on personal and even political matters. Few sacrifices in the history of the Pakistan Movement are as understated yet as consequential as this one. Fatima Jinnah’s devotion did not waver even after Pakistan was achieved. She remained with her brother through the exhausting, health-depleting years of his final illness. As the Quaid battled tuberculosis while simultaneously trying to steer a fragile new nation through its most turbulent infancy, it was Fatima who nursed him, traveled with him to Ziarat in his final days, and stayed resolutely at his bedside. When Muhammad Ali Jinnah breathed his last on September 11, 1948, Fatima Jinnah was there, not as a bystander, but as the one who had walked every step of that difficult journey with him. Her presence at his deathbed was the culmination of nearly two decades of unwavering companionship, sacrifice, and quiet strength. What makes Fatima Jinnah’s legacy even richer is the manner in which she carried herself. She was educated, articulate, and thoroughly modern in her outlook, yet she remained rooted in her cultural identity. She was famously elegant in her choice of dress, often seen in a gharara paired with a sleeveless blouse, a look that exuded both grace and quiet confidence. She wore her modernity with the same ease with which she wore her dupatta, never feeling the need to choose between tradition and progress. In photographs from that era, she appears composed, dignified, and utterly self-assured, a woman entirely comfortable in her own skin. Equally striking was her decision never to marry. In a society where marriage was, and often still is, treated as the singular measure of a woman’s worth and completeness, Fatima Jinnah chose a different path, not out of compulsion or circumstance, but by her own free will. She dedicated her life to her brother, to her country, and to her own principles. Later in her life, she also emerged as a formidable political figure in her own right, contesting the 1965 presidential election against General Ayub Khan and becoming a symbol of democratic resistance for a generation of Pakistanis. Fatima Jinnah’s life is not simply a chapter in a history book; it is a living lesson for Pakistani women today. She demonstrated that a woman could be professionally accomplished and personally devoted, modern in appearance and deeply principled in character, unmarried by choice and yet utterly complete as a person. She showed that sacrifice does not diminish a woman’s strength, it can, in fact, define it. In an age where women are still often measured by narrow societal expectations, Fatima Jinnah’s example urges us to reclaim our own definitions of dignity, purpose, and self-worth. As Pakistani women, we owe it to ourselves to emulate not merely her style, the elegant gharara, the graceful bearing but the substance behind it; her education, her independence, her unwavering integrity, and her refusal to be defined by anyone else’s expectations. Madar-e-Millat did not simply stand beside the founder of a nation; she stood as a model for what a Pakistani woman could be, then, and now.

​As Pakistan celebrates its Independence Day on August 14, the twentieth-century history of the South Asian subcontinent demands a reflective analysis that goes far beyond a mere anti-colonial struggle or a simplistic narrative of imperial power transition. The creation of Pakistan represents a profound, philosophical, and structural saga centered on collective economic survival, uneven development, and the discovery of a modern political identity. Western Orientalists and traditional nationalist historians of India have often tended to reduce the genesis of Pakistan to emotional religious fervor or the peripheral consequence of a British “divide and rule” strategy. However, when analyzed through the prisms of political economy and structural analysis, a distinct reality emerges: the Muslim demand for a separate homeland was fundamentally a rational, material response to systemic economic marginalization, structural imbalances, and the acute objective fear of becoming a permanent minority under Westminster-style majoritarian democracy. This trajectory unfolded with unbroken intellectual, economic, and constitutional continuity from the post-eighteenth-century decline down to the geopolitical remapping of 14th August 1947. ​To comprehend the evolution of Muslim nationalism in South Asia, a rigorous analysis of the post-1857 economic and structural disruption is indispensable. The collapse of the Mughal state and the consolidation of East India Company rule subjected Muslim society to a catastrophic economic crisis rooted in colonial land and fiscal policies. Through the Permanent Settlement of 1793 in the Muslim-majority region of Bengal, traditional landholding rights were systematically stripped from Muslims and transferred to a newly created non-Muslim landed class. As the historian W. W. Hunter observed in his seminal work, The Indian Musalmans, British administrative interventions pushed the Muslims of Bengal—who had previously constituted the ruling elite and agrarian proprietors—into a condition of severe peasant impoverishment and structural decay. This agricultural dislocation was paralleled by institutional disenfranchisement. The replacement of Persian with English as the official language in 1835 instantly alienated the Muslim intelligentsia and professional classes from the bureaucracy, judiciary, and civil service. In his analysis of the post-colonial state, the political economist Hamza Alavi conceptualized this segment as the “salariat”—a bureaucratic-bourgeois element whose economic dislocation and exclusion from state patronage generated deep structural grievances that ultimately fueled the demand for a distinct national identity. ​As industrial and commercial capitalism took root in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, its structure was inherently skewed. India’s emerging indigenous bourgeoisie—comprising Marwari, Gujarati, and Parsi capitalist networks—monopolized banking, insurance, and primary manufacturing. In burgeoning industrial nodes such as Bombay, Calcutta, and Madras, Muslims were largely relegated to the ranks of agrarian labor, petty artisans, or urban proletariats. As economic historian Benjamin Zachariah notes, the nature of Indian industrialization created a stark spatial and structural imbalance: Muslim-majority provinces like Bengal, Punjab, Sindh, and the North-West Frontier became agrarian hinterlands relegated to supplying raw materials—such as jute, cotton, and wheat—for external processing. While Bengal produced the vast majority of the world’s raw jute, the processing mills, financial capital, and commercial profits were strictly concentrated in Calcutta under non-Muslim mercantile ownership. This economic asymmetry solidified a growing realization among Muslims that an integrated, highly centralized economy in a united India would permanently trap them in an exploited periphery. ​Against this backdrop of economic and institutional decline, the intellectual trajectory of Muslim nationalism evolved in a deliberate, phased manner. Sir Syed Ahmad Khan’s Aligarh Movement sought the scientific renaissance and modernizing realignment of Muslim society. As early as the 1880s, Sir Syed critically dissected the mechanics of British parliamentary democracy, arguing that numerical majoritarianism in a multinational, heterogeneous subcontinent would inevitably result in the permanent hegemony of an ethnically and economically dominant majority. By the 1930s, Allama Muhammad Iqbal elevated this political economy argument into a robust philosophical and territorial framework. In his historic 1930 Allahabad Address, Iqbal rejected Western territorial nationalism, asserting that South Asian Muslims constituted a distinct nation in their own right, given their unique socio-legal and cultural matrix. Crucially, Iqbal linked the preservation of Muslim spiritual and cultural identity directly to territorial and economic self-determination in Muslim-majority regions. As political scientist Paul Brass observed through his theoretical lens of instrumentalism, Muslim nationalism in South Asia was not merely an abstract identity movement, but a structured mobilization by an educated, politically conscious elite seeking an equitable distribution of state power and economic resources. ​Translating this intellectual framework into a tangible, international constitutional reality became the historic mission of Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah. Rather than relying on hagiographic narratives, Jinnah’s political evolution must be evaluated through his rigorous legal and constitutional record. As historian Ayesha Jalal demonstrates, Jinnah’s primary objective remained the ironclad safeguarding of the economic, political, and administrative rights of Muslim-majority regions within the subcontinental architecture. For three decades, Jinnah operated as the foremost champion of constitutional guarantees within a united, federal India—evidenced by the Lucknow Pact of 1916 and his Fourteen Points of 1929. However, the centralized ethos of the 1928 Nehru Report, followed by the authoritarian conduct of Congress provincial ministries between 1937 and 1939, forced a decisive paradigm shift in Jinnah’s strategy. The twenty-eight months of Congress rule—marked by educational engineering, discriminatory economic measures, and the marginalization of Muslims in local administrations—proved that paper constitutional guarantees were fragile against an unchecked numerical majority. ​It was from the crucible of this constitutional failure that the Lahore Resolution of 1940 emerged, serving as the definitive blueprint for the creation of Pakistan. Jinnah articulated to the international community that the subcontinental impasse was not a minor minority-majority dispute or a sectarian problem, but an irreconcilable structural conflict between two distinct nations, two differing political economies, and two separate civilizational matrixes. The elections of 1945–46 delivered an overwhelming democratic mandate, confirming that Muslim agrarian masses, merchants, urban laborers, and young professionals unanimously viewed Pakistan as the sole guarantee of their economic emancipation and political sovereignty. Consequently, the Pakistan movement transformed from an elite constitutional debate into a broad-based socio-economic revolution. ​The emergence of Pakistan on August 14, 1947, remains a landmark event in global history, challenging classical theories of post-colonial state formation. It

Every 14 August, Pakistan awakens to the familiar colours of green and white. Flags appear on buildings, national songs fill the air, children dress in traditional colours, and speeches once again remind the nation of the sacrifices that accompanied independence. Yet Independence Day is not merely an occasion to celebrate the Pakistan we inherited; it is an opportunity to ask a more demanding question: What have we done with the Pakistan that was entrusted to us? On 14 August 1947, independence transformed millions of lives. Pakistan emerged from one of the most extraordinary political movements of the twentieth century, carrying the hopes of Muslims of the subcontinent for political security, social justice, dignity and the freedom to shape their collective future. Nearly eight decades later, the country possesses a substantial population, strategic importance, nuclear capability, a young generation, a resilient economy and a remarkable human resource. But the distance between Pakistan’s original aspirations and its contemporary realities remains a serious national question. The first mistake would be to interpret patriotism as silence about national shortcomings. Genuine patriotism requires the courage to identify weaknesses as well as the wisdom to recognise achievements. A country cannot strengthen itself by denying its problems. Nor can it progress through perpetual pessimism. Pakistan’s challenge in 2026 is therefore to move beyond both exaggerated self-congratulation and destructive cynicism. The political history of Pakistan demonstrates the consequences of institutional instability, confrontation and the excessive personalisation of politics. Governments have changed, political alliances have shifted, constitutions have been amended, and civilian and non-civilian institutions have repeatedly struggled over the appropriate boundaries of authority. The result has often been a political culture in which winning power becomes more important than strengthening institutions. This is particularly dangerous for a federation as diverse as Pakistan. Punjab, Sindh, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Balochistan, Gilgit-Baltistan and the regions of Azad Jammu and Kashmir possess distinct histories, cultures and political concerns. National unity cannot be imposed through administrative uniformity. It must be constructed through justice, representation, constitutionalism and an equitable distribution of opportunity. The recent political and social tensions surrounding Azad Jammu and Kashmir offer another reminder that national integration cannot depend exclusively upon slogans. Reports of violent protests, deaths and political grievances in the region demonstrate how quickly unresolved questions of representation, economic opportunity and political legitimacy can become matters of national concern. At the same time, the ongoing electoral process indicates that democratic participation remains an important mechanism through which political differences can be addressed. The lesson for Pakistan is broader than any particular political dispute: the federation becomes stronger when citizens believe that institutions listen to them. Religion presents another essential dimension of Pakistan’s identity. The country was created in the name of a political and social vision deeply connected with the religious consciousness of the Muslims of the subcontinent. But Islam cannot be reduced to national symbolism, political slogans or ceremonial references. Its deeper teachings demand justice, honesty, compassion, accountability, dignity and responsibility. The Qur’anic concept of Ummah is fundamentally connected with moral solidarity. It does not mean that differences disappear; rather, it teaches that human beings and communities are bound by principles of justice and mutual responsibility. The Qur’an repeatedly places justice at the centre of social life. Consequently, a religiously inspired Pakistan should not merely ask whether society looks Islamic from the outside. It should ask whether the weak receive justice, whether public resources are protected from corruption, whether the powerful are accountable, whether minorities live with dignity, and whether the poor have meaningful opportunities to improve their lives. Pakistan’s constitutional framework itself reflects this relationship between Islamic values and democratic citizenship. The Objectives Resolution, incorporated into the Constitution, describes democracy, freedom, equality, tolerance and social justice as principles to be observed, while also affirming the rights of minorities to freely profess and practise their religions and develop their cultures. This constitutional balance is important because religious identity and citizenship should not be presented as competing ideas. A confident Islamic state does not need discrimination to demonstrate its faith. It demonstrates its moral strength through justice. Protection of minorities is not a concession to another culture; it is part of the constitutional and ethical responsibility of the state. Pakistan’s social crisis, meanwhile, is perhaps more complicated than its political crisis. Millions of Pakistanis continue to demonstrate extraordinary resilience, entrepreneurship and generosity. Pakistani professionals have achieved distinction around the world, while ordinary citizens routinely support relatives, neighbours and communities in times of hardship. Yet social inequality, unemployment, educational disparities, population pressure, inflationary pressures and unequal access to healthcare continue to limit the potential of a large part of the population. The most important national resource is not the country’s geography, minerals or strategic position. It is its people. A nation with a young population cannot afford an education system that merely produces certificates. Pakistan needs education that produces critical thinkers, scientists, entrepreneurs, skilled workers, ethical professionals and responsible citizens. Artificial intelligence is rapidly transforming economies and professions, making it even more urgent for Pakistan to reform its educational priorities rather than simply expand enrolment. The same principle applies to women and young people. A country cannot speak convincingly about development while large sections of its human capital remain underutilised. Pakistan’s future competitiveness will depend increasingly upon the quality of its education, digital capacity, scientific research, vocational training and entrepreneurial ecosystem. Independence also has an international dimension. Pakistan’s geography has historically placed it at the intersection of major geopolitical interests. Its relationship with China, Saudi Arabia, Türkiye, the Gulf states, the United States, Europe, Afghanistan and other regional partners reflects the complexity of its strategic environment. But the strongest foreign policy is ultimately built upon domestic strength. Economic stability, political credibility, social cohesion and institutional continuity provide a stronger foundation for diplomacy than dependence upon temporary geopolitical alignments. National security, therefore, should be understood in a broader sense. A secure Pakistan is not merely one with strong borders and capable armed forces. It is also a Pakistan where a child can

Every 14th of August we hear the same national narrative. Speeches recall 1947, flags are hoisted, and anthems are played at midnight. The symbolism matters. It reminds us of the cost of independence and the idea of Pakistan. Yet symbolism without substance risks becoming ritual. If we are to understand what independence means in 2026, we must look beyond the ceremony and toward the quiet, persistent work that sustains the nation through every crisis. That work is rarely televised. It is carried out by teachers in under-resourced schools, by health workers walking door to door, by engineers keeping the grid alive during heatwaves, by farmers adapting to erratic weather, and by young people building livelihoods from laptops in small towns. These are the stories of resilience that deserve a central place in our understanding of Pakistan, 79 years after its founding. Resilience is not an abstract virtue. It is a measurable response to constraint. Pakistan has faced recurring fiscal stress, energy shortfalls, climate shocks, and security challenges. In each case, state capacity alone has been insufficient. What has prevented collapse is a dense network of civic and professional effort that fills gaps, innovates under pressure, and restores basic function. Consider education. Official data continues to show millions of children out of school and low learning outcomes. At the same time, thousands of low-fee private schools, community learning centers, and volunteer tutoring initiatives operate in the same neighborhoods. They do not appear in headlines, but they keep children literate, prepare them for exams, and create a pathway, however narrow, to higher education. The same pattern appears in health. Lady Health Workers and polio teams travel on foot in heat and in risk, maintaining immunization coverage and maternal counseling in areas where clinics are distant or overburdened. Their work is repetitive, underpaid, and essential. Without it, disease surveillance and primary care would deteriorate far more rapidly. Economic resilience is visible in the informal sector and in the emerging digital economy. Pakistan’s labor market has never been able to absorb all new entrants through formal jobs alone. In response, millions have created their own employment: workshops, transport, retail, agriculture processing, and services. In the last decade, a new layer has appeared. Freelancers in Lahore, Karachi, Islamabad, Peshawar, Quetta, Multan, and Faisalabad now earn foreign exchange by writing, designing, coding, and providing remote services. They pay no rent for office space, require little imported capital, and learn through online courses. This is not a substitute for industrial policy, but it is a real expansion of opportunity. It represents a form of independence: the ability of an individual to earn without waiting for a large institution to hire them. The state’s role here should be to reduce friction, ensure reliable electricity and internet, and simplify taxation and payment systems, so that this energy is not wasted. Climate resilience is now inseparable from national security. Floods in 2010, 2014, and 2022 displaced millions and damaged infrastructure worth billions. Drought and heatwaves threaten wheat and water. The response has included both engineering and community adaptation. Farmers are experimenting with drought-tolerant varieties and more efficient irrigation. Urban volunteers organize tree planting and waste management in their streets. Provincial and federal programs have attempted large-scale afforestation and watershed management. Progress is uneven and often underfunded, but the impulse is clear: adapt or lose. The most effective adaptations are local, because they are designed around specific soil, rainfall, and social networks. National policy can support them by providing data, credit, and technical extension, but it cannot replace the judgment of people who live on the land. What ties these examples together is a refusal to wait for perfect conditions. Resilience in Pakistan is not optimism. It is a practical calculation that problems will persist, and that action must proceed anyway. This attitude is visible in small businesses that maintain generators and solar panels to cope with load-shedding, in parents who pool money to hire a tutor, and in journalists and lawyers who document cases despite pressure. It is not heroic in the cinematic sense. It is tedious, repetitive, and often thankless. That is precisely why it matters. Nations are built not only in founding moments but in the accumulation of ordinary competence over decades. As we mark 79 years, the task is to recognize this resilience and to institutionalize it. Recognition means collecting data that captures informal work, community schools, and local adaptation, and then designing policy around them. Institutionalization means protecting merit in recruitment, ensuring predictable funding for primary services, and removing regulatory obstacles for small enterprises and freelancers. It also means telling a different story about Pakistan. The dominant story is one of crisis and rescue. The more accurate story is one of persistence and incremental gain. Both are true. But a country that only narrates its crises will train its citizens to expect failure. A country that also narrates its resilience will train its citizens to contribute. Independence, therefore, is not a date. It is a practice. It is the practice of showing up to teach, to heal, to build, to adapt, and to hold institutions accountable when they fall short. The midnight speech reminds us why we began. The morning work determines whether we continue. If we wish to honor 1947, we should honor those who, without fanfare, keep Pakistan functioning every day between 15th August and the next 14th. Their work is not perfect, and it is not sufficient on its own. But it is the foundation on which any serious reform must rest. To see it, to name it, and to support it is the most patriotic act available to us now.

The effects of the defence agreement between Pakistan and Saudi Arabia were witnessed by the entire world during the recent US-Iran-Israel war. At the same time, there was continuous speculation about whether the scope of this defence agreement could be expanded in the coming days. For years, the defence of major Middle Eastern countries has largely depended on the United States. However, during the recent conflict, the US appeared unable to fully protect either these countries or even some of its own military bases in the region. When Iran attacked Saudi Arabia, Pakistan immediately issued a strong warning, stating that if Iran wanted to protect its own territorial integrity, it should avoid any aggression against Saudi Arabia; otherwise, Pakistan would honour its defence commitments. Soon afterwards, the world witnessed a different situation in areas where Pakistani forces were present. While attacks continued in various parts of the region, areas protected by Pakistani forces experienced a markedly different security environment. Against this backdrop, international newspapers began suggesting that the United States’ influence in the Middle East could be entering a period of decline. As the poet famously said: “Insha Ji, get up and leave now; What is the point of becoming attached to this city?” The peace talks between Iran and the United States, hosted by Pakistan and referred to as the “Islamabad Accord”, created further diplomatic momentum. Shortly after the first meeting, discussions surrounding the Pakistan-Saudi defence agreement began attracting global attention. Influenced by these developments, other countries in the region also started exploring the possibility of joining or cooperating with the defence arrangement. Pakistan is the world’s only nuclear-armed Muslim-majority country. Saudi Arabia is one of the world’s most influential oil-producing states and holds immense religious significance for Muslims worldwide. Türkiye, meanwhile, has established a strong reputation for its drone technology and non-nuclear missile capabilities. The combination of these three countries could have significant strategic consequences for the region. Their growing defence cooperation is unlikely to be viewed favourably by either the United States or Israel. Even before the reported expansion of the defence arrangement, statements from the United States and Israel indicated growing concern. The role of American military bases and radar systems located in several Muslim-majority countries has also come under greater scrutiny, particularly over their alleged role in supporting Israel during the conflict. One US think tank reportedly described the emerging regional landscape as involving two major blocs: a Sunni alliance and a Shia alliance, with Israel and the United States potentially prepared to confront both. Such assessments could be interpreted as an indication of changing strategic dynamics and a possible reduction in American and Israeli influence across parts of the region. As mentioned earlier, several other countries are reportedly watching the development of the Pakistan-Saudi defence partnership closely. Egypt is also said to have participated in preliminary discussions, and its potential inclusion in the future cannot be ruled out. If Egypt joins the arrangement, the strategic balance could become even more significant. Egypt controls the Suez Canal, one of the world’s most important maritime trade routes on which a substantial portion of global commerce depends. It also possesses one of the region’s strongest naval forces and a large fleet of military aircraft. Access to Egyptian territory and strategic waterways could therefore have major implications for the Middle East, Israel and Europe. With Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and potentially Egypt forming a broader strategic group, the combined military capabilities of these countries, supported by Saudi Arabia’s enormous energy resources and financial strength, could create a formidable regional bloc. This is one reason why the emerging defence arrangement is increasingly being compared with Article 5 of the NATO treaty. Under Article 5, an armed attack against one NATO member is considered an attack against all members, triggering a collective commitment to assist the country under attack. NATO invoked Article 5 for the first and only time in its history following the terrorist attacks against the United States on September 11, 2001. In the coming days, countries such as Egypt, Bangladesh, Kuwait and Jordan could potentially become part of broader defence cooperation, although their formal participation would depend on future diplomatic and strategic decisions. At present, Israel, the United States, India and Iran all appear to have concerns about the potential consequences of such an alliance. However, the coming months will reveal its actual structure, scope and strategic impact on the region.

Many Pakistanis, especially the youth in colleges and universities, while celebrating Independence Day every year (August 14, 2026, marks seventy-ninth), express bafflement as to how a state purportedly created in the name of ‘Islam’ is juxtaposed with the term ‘Republic. They wonder how a Parliament, where majority is not that of theologians, working under Westminster model, retains, amends and enacts mainly Anglo-Saxon laws and yet claims that Shariah is supreme. In Europe and the United States and elsewhere, the term republic connotes a State that precludes monarch and clergy. In our context, the predominant view (though totally misconceived) is that divorced from religion, politics is “changezee” (chaos, anarchy and disorder). جلالِ بادشاہی ہو کہ جمہوری تماشا ہو جدا ہو دیں سیاست سے تو رہ جاتی ہے چنگیزی What poet Dr. Muhammad Iqbal emphasizes in the couplet, Jallah badshahi ho ya jamhori tamasha ho; Juda hon deen siyasat se, to reh jati hai changezee, is that ethics contained in holy Quran should be part and parcel of governance. The majority misconstrue deen (Quranic term seerat-e-mustaqeemright path) as conventional mazhab (religion). By reading the second stanza in isolation, the clergy interprets and insists that politics should only be in the name of their brand of conventional (orthodox) religion. They and many others conveniently ignore the first stanza of the couplet. The couplet unambiguously conveys that whether it is monarchy or democracy, governance sans ethical framework of deen is changezee. With conventional mazhab comes Shariah that is a contentious issue since the adoption of Objectives Resolution of 1949. In a fragmented society marred by sectarian hatred (not merely genuine differences over interpretation of Islamic laws) it has becomes a permanent source of conflicts with claims and counter claims on how to run the State. Ziauddin Sardar (born in Lahore and who left Pakistan in 1960 at the age of nine, now author of not less than fifty books with world-wide acclaim of a public intellectual specialising in Muslim thought) says that if you equate Islam with state, then religion becomes a reason of the state and that state becomes the power of religion. Basically you produce a totalitarian system”. Ziauddin elaborates that the very idea that “Islam is equal to state is a totalitarian equation. We dont have to go very far; we just have to see recent history. Wherever Islam has been equated with state, we have produced totalitarian systems, like Iran, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Afghanistan, you name it”. Of course, Saudi Arabia is now drifting away from influence of clergy, but not monarchy. According to critics of Objectives Resolution, it was a departure from the ideals of Quaid-e-Azam, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, of equality for all citizens and his principles of fair governance. Using it as a ploy, they say that all governments, both military and civilians, managed to convert Pakistan into an exploitative State where ultimately the Shariat Court held land reforms against Islam. According to them, Quaid-e-Azam did not want to make Pakistan a theocratic but certainly an egalitarian state. Objectives Resolution, passed by the first Constituent Assembly on March 12, 1949 under Liaquat Ali Khans leadership is undoubtedly one of the most important documents in the constitutional history of Pakistanit served as preamble for the Constitutions of 1956, 1962 and eventually became part of the 1973 Constitution when the Eighth Amendment was passed in 1985. The proponents of Objectives Resolution claim that it confirms the true genesis of Pakistan by reiterating, Sovereignty of the entire Universe belongs to Allah alone and authority should be delegated to the State through its people under the rules set by Allah”. Therefore, it has become a blend of Islam and Western democracy. Liaquat Ali Khan explained the context of the resolution in his speech delivered in the Constituent Assembly on March 7, 1949 claiming it to be “the most important occasion in the life of this country, next in importance only to the achievement of independence”. He said that we as Muslims believe that authority is vested in Allah Almighty and it should be exercised in accordance with the standards laid down in Islam. He added that this preamble had made it clear that the elected persons would exercise the authority, which is the essence of democracy, and it eliminates the dangers of theocracy. The events that followed proved him wrong as clergy started asserting its own authority instead of that of Allahs by saying religion is what we interpret”. The logical outcomes of the Objectives Resolution were: (a) movement against Ahmadis, (b) clergys campaign against Ayub Khans regime in the name of Islam, (c) support of religious parties and right wing to military crackdown in East Pakistan culminating into dismemberment of the country and (d) Zulfikar Ali Bhuttos compromises with religious leaders. The matter did not end there. It paved the way for an 11-year dictatorial and nightmarish rule [1977-1988] of General Ziaul Haq. Zias legacy was reflected in the formative political years of Mian Nawaz Sharif, three time elected Prime Minster of Pakistan. Military dictator late General Pervez Musharraf who deposed Nawaz Sharif on October 12, 1999, and all others who followed him failed to undo Zias legacyunfortunately since 1977, religious bigotry is haunting us. The militants and terrorists derive their ideological strength from the notion that real authority rests with Allah and they are waging jihad to make Pakistan a true Islamic polity. The Objectives Resolution, being part of our Constitution, though emphasizes existence of a Muslim State based on the principles of justice and equity for all, yet contradicts the concept of a secular State free of any religious obligations. Shariah as body of laws cannot be free of sectarian biases, thus, one cannot reconcile the two conflicting ideas. For example, in Indonesia, the debate whether you can have an Islamic state was a long drawn one with much depth, and they finally reached the conclusion that Islam and politics are linked, not through the state but through a civic society. It means that if you are a

The real meaning of 14th August and the unfinished journey of Pakistan Every year, on 14th August, Pakistan dresses itself in green and white. Flags appear on buildings, vehicles and streets. National songs fill the air. Speeches remind us of the sacrifices of our forefathers, and we proudly celebrate the creation of Pakistan on 14 August 1947. And rightly so. Pakistan was not created without sacrifice. Millions suffered displacement, countless families were torn apart, and an entire generation endured enormous pain to establish a homeland. But every Independence Day should also make us ask a difficult question. What does independence actually mean? Is independence merely the absence of foreign rule? Or is true independence something much deeper? A country may possess a flag, a national anthem, a constitution, a parliament, an army and a sovereign territory, and yet its people may still remain trapped in poverty, injustice, corruption, ignorance, inequality and institutional weakness. If so, then perhaps political independence has been achieved, but the journey toward real national freedom is still incomplete. Freedom from whom, and freedom for what? The independence of 1947 gave the people of this land the right to govern themselves. But self-government carries a responsibility. The purpose of independence was not simply to replace foreign rulers with local rulers. It was to create a society in which people could live with dignity, justice, security and opportunity. The real question, therefore, is not whether Pakistan is an independent country. Of course it is. The real question is: Have we built the kind of society for which independence was meant to provide the opportunity? A nation is not truly free when an ordinary citizen cannot obtain justice without influence. A nation is not truly free when merit is defeated by connections. A nation is not truly free when public resources are treated as private property. A nation is not truly free when people are forced to pay bribes to obtain services that are already their legal rights. A nation is not truly free when the powerful can escape accountability while the weak struggle to be heard. And a nation is certainly not truly free when its citizens themselves participate in the corruption, dishonesty and lawlessness that they condemn in their rulers. The uncomfortable truth, governments are not the only problem We often blame politicians, bureaucrats, institutions and rulers for everything that is wrong with Pakistan. There is certainly plenty to criticize in our institutions and governance. But there is another uncomfortable question that we must have the courage to ask: What about us? Can a dishonest society produce an honest system? Can people who routinely evade taxes demand an honest government? Can someone who gives a bribe to get his work done then claim that corruption exists only in government offices? Can a person who uses political connections for personal benefit demand meritocracy when someone else gets an opportunity through influence? Can we demand justice from the state while refusing to practice justice in our own homes, businesses, workplaces and communities? This is where the real challenge begins. A nation’s character is ultimately reflected not only in its rulers, but also in the everyday conduct of its citizens. Corruption does not survive because only corrupt officials exist. It survives because there is often an ecosystem in which the giver, receiver, beneficiary and silent observer all contribute to its continuation. Independence without character is incomplete. The greatest weakness of a nation is not necessarily poverty. Nations can recover from poverty. They can recover from economic crises. They can rebuild after wars and natural disasters. But when dishonesty becomes socially acceptable, when corruption becomes a normal shortcut, when merit becomes negotiable and when people stop believing that laws should apply equally to everyone, the foundations of the state itself begin to weaken. This is why national independence must eventually become moral and civic independence. We must become independent from the mentality that says: “If everyone is doing it, why shouldn’t I?” We must become independent from: Corruption, bribery, nepotism, political favoritism, tax evasion, dishonesty in business, misuse of public property, intolerance, lawlessness, the worship of wealth and status, and the belief that rules are only for ordinary people. These are not merely personal weaknesses. When they become widespread, they become national problems. The mirror of 14th August Perhaps this Independence Day we should look into a mirror instead of merely looking at the flag. The flag tells us that we have a country. The mirror asks us. What kind of people are we becoming? We proudly say that Pakistan is a nuclear power. We proudly celebrate our armed forces, who have made enormous sacrifices in defending Pakistan. But a truly strong Pakistan must also possess strong institutions, rule of law, economic stability, justice, education and honest citizenry. We speak proudly about our sovereignty. But do ordinary citizens have economic, social and legal security? We celebrate democracy. But do we practice democratic values in our everyday lives? We demand accountability from rulers. But are we prepared to hold ourselves accountable? These questions may be uncomfortable, but Independence Day is precisely the right occasion to ask them. Real independence begins with the individual. We often imagine that changing Pakistan requires a great leader. Of course, competent and honest leadership matters. Good institutions matter. Strong laws matter. Independent courts matter. Professional administration matters. Transparent elections matter. But no institutional reform can permanently succeed if society itself refuses to change. Real national transformation begins much closer to home. It begins when a citizen decides. I will not give a bribe. It begins when an official decides: I will not misuse my authority. It begins when a businessman decides: I will not deceive my customer. It begins when a taxpayer decide. I will fulfil my responsibility. It begins when a teacher decides. I will teach honestly. It begins when a student decides. I will earn my degree through knowledge, not cheating. It begins when a voter decides. I will not sell my vote for