Opinion

For a few hours this week, it looked like Washington and Riyadh had quietly closed one of the more consequential files of Donald Trump’s second term. On Wednesday, US Energy Secretary Chris Wright and his Saudi counterpart signed a civil nuclear cooperation agreement, a deal years in the making, offering American firms a foothold in a market Riyadh has long promised and long withheld. Then, a day later, the president reopened it himself. In a Truth Social post on Thursday, Trump declared the agreement “will be approved,” but added that it was “totally subject to Saudi Arabia joining the very respected and successful Abraham Accords.” He also inserted a second condition that had not been part of the signed text: no enrichment of nuclear material on Saudi soil. Within hours, press secretary Karoline Leavitt was telling reporters the deal was simply “off” unless the kingdom normalised relations with Israel, even though, by her own account, the president had not actually spoken to Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman since posting the ultimatum. It is worth sitting with how unusual this is. A nuclear cooperation agreement, negotiated over years and signed by cabinet level officials on both sides, was retroactively rewritten by a presidential social media post, with the Saudi government left to respond through silence, and American wire services unable to get so much as a background comment out of Riyadh. Steven Cook, a Middle East scholar quoted by NPR, put the underlying question bluntly: whether “a social post supersede a signed diplomatic agreement.” That a serious foreign policy analyst even has to ask the question tells its own story about how this White House does business. The Saudi position, however, is not new, and it is not merely stubbornness. The kingdom has said for years, through King Salman and now through the Crown Prince, that normalisation with Israel requires a credible pathway to Palestinian statehood. That position survived the first Trump term’s Abraham Accords push, the Biden administration’s own normalisation efforts, and it hardened further after the October 2023 Hamas attack on Israel and the war in Gaza that followed. Riyadh’s calculus is also generational: across the Arab and Muslim world, sympathy for the Palestinian cause remains a live political fact that no government, however close to Washington, can casually override. There is also an Israeli dimension worth naming honestly. Israel’s own unease was never really about Saudi Arabia’s civilian nuclear ambitions; officials have signalled for months that they had made peace with the idea, provided it came bundled with normalisation. What Israeli commentators and officials appear to actually fear is a Saudi Arabia empowered, prestige laden, and unbound to the Accords: a regional heavyweight whose recognition Israel still needs, and has not been granted, absent a resolution nobody has yet found for the Palestinians. That is the crux the deal has now run into, and it is not a problem Trump’s Truth Social account can post its way out of. None of this means the deal is necessarily dead. Trump has a long history of issuing maximalist conditions in public while negotiating something narrower in private, and Saudi Arabia has strong economic and strategic incentives of its own to keep the nuclear track alive. But the manner in which this condition was added, abruptly, publicly, and without prior coordination with Riyadh, is itself a signal worth reading. It suggests an American approach to the region that still assumes the old leverage of the first Abraham Accords era holds unchanged, even as the ground beneath it, in Gaza’s aftermath and in Saudi public opinion, has shifted considerably. Whether Washington adjusts to that reality, or simply keeps repeating the demand more loudly, will say a great deal about how the rest of this file plays out.

By Ali Hamza Alvi, Final Year Law Student, SLC, Superior University and Muhammad Imran, Staff Member, SAHSOL-LUMS Some individuals attain prominence because they occupy positions of authority; others earn an enduring place in history because they transform the destiny of humanity. Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela unquestionably belongs to the latter category. His greatness did not arise merely from his election as the first democratically elected President of South Africa; rather, it was forged through his unwavering commitment to justice, equality, human dignity, and reconciliation. Even during the darkest chapters of his life, Mandela remained steadfast in his conviction that freedom and human rights were worth every sacrifice. Nelson Mandela was born on 18 July 1918 in the rural village of Mvezo in South Africa’s Eastern Cape. He was raised in a society deeply scarred by racial discrimination, where the colour of one’s skin determined virtually every aspect of life. Under the oppressive system of apartheid, Black South Africans were systematically deprived of their political, social, and economic rights. They were denied equal access to education, employment, healthcare, and public services, while racial segregation was enforced through an elaborate framework of discriminatory laws. Witnessing these profound injustices from an early age inspired Mandela to dedicate his life to dismantling institutionalised racial oppression and establishing a society founded upon equality and human dignity. Recognising the transformative power of law, Mandela pursued legal studies with the conviction that the law should function as an instrument of justice rather than a mechanism of oppression. As a practising lawyer, he represented countless individuals who had been denied their fundamental rights solely because of their race. These experiences reinforced his belief that genuine justice could exist only where every individual stood equal before the law, irrespective of race, ethnicity, religion, or social background. His legal career became not merely a profession but a platform for challenging systemic injustice and advocating constitutional equality. Mandela’s opposition to apartheid inevitably brought him into direct conflict with the South African government. His relentless campaign against racial discrimination and political repression led the authorities to regard him as a dangerous opponent of the existing order. In 1962, he was arrested, and following the historic Rivonia Trial, he was sentenced to life imprisonment. Confined for twenty-seven years, much of that time on Robben Island under exceptionally harsh conditions, Mandela endured one of the longest incarcerations of any political prisoner in modern history. Yet imprisonment neither diminished his resolve nor extinguished his hope. Instead, it strengthened his moral character and reinforced his unwavering belief that justice would ultimately prevail. Life behind prison walls subjected Mandela to severe physical hardship and profound emotional suffering. He was compelled to perform exhausting manual labour, endured restrictive prison conditions, and remained separated from his family and loved ones for decades. Despite these immense personal sacrifices, he refused to succumb to bitterness or hatred. Mandela understood that resentment imprisons the human spirit just as effectively as physical confinement. Instead, he embraced forgiveness as a transformative force capable of healing divided societies. His profound insight that reconciliation, rather than revenge, offers the surest path to lasting peace would later become the defining philosophy of his public life. Following sustained international pressure, widespread domestic resistance, and growing recognition that apartheid was morally and politically indefensible, Nelson Mandela was released from prison in 1990. His liberation marked not merely the end of his personal imprisonment but the beginning of a new era for South Africa. Across the world, millions celebrated his release as a triumph of justice over oppression. Many anticipated that Mandela would seek retribution against those responsible for his decades of imprisonment. Instead, he astonished the international community by advocating reconciliation, peaceful dialogue, and national unity. He firmly believed that South Africa could achieve genuine freedom only by replacing hatred with mutual respect and by building a future founded upon forgiveness rather than vengeance. In 1994, South Africa conducted its first democratic elections based on universal adult suffrage, culminating in Nelson Mandela’s election as the nation’s first Black President. His inauguration represented far more than a political transition; it symbolised the moral triumph of democracy over racial tyranny and the realisation of aspirations long denied to millions of South Africans. As President, Mandela dedicated himself to fostering national reconciliation, strengthening democratic institutions, and promoting equality before the law. His administration sought to heal the wounds of the past by encouraging cooperation among citizens of every race, culture, and community, thereby laying the foundations for a constitutional democracy committed to human rights and the rule of law. Among Mandela’s most remarkable qualities was his extraordinary humility. Despite occupying the highest office in the nation, he remained approachable, gracious, and deeply respectful of others. He believed that authentic leadership is measured not by personal power or privilege but by one’s willingness to serve humanity with integrity and compassion. His conduct demonstrated that strength need not be accompanied by arrogance and that true authority is exercised through wisdom, empathy, and moral example rather than coercion. Today, Nelson Mandela stands as one of the most revered figures in modern history. His legacy transcends the geographical boundaries of South Africa and continues to inspire people across every continent. He demonstrated that courage is not the absence of fear but the determination to uphold justice despite fear; that forgiveness is not a sign of weakness but the highest expression of moral strength; and that enduring social transformation is achieved not through hatred or violence but through reconciliation, equality, and respect for human dignity. His life remains compelling evidence that a single individual, guided by unwavering principles, extraordinary perseverance, and profound compassion, possesses the power to alter the course of history and leave an indelible legacy for generations to come. Nelson Mandela’s life demonstrates that while another individual may one day attain comparable moral stature and global influence, becoming another Nelson Mandela in the truest sense is extraordinarily difficult. His greatness did not stem merely from his imprisonment for twenty-seven years or his election as the

Pakistan has never lacked economic advice. Since independence, successive governments have experimented with socialist planning, import substitution, nationalisation, structural adjustment, privatization, fiscal decentralisation, value added taxation, documentation drives, digital governance and, most recently, artificial intelligence in tax administration.  Almost every reform has been presented as the missing ingredient that would place the country on the path of sustained prosperity. However, Pakistan continues to oscillate between balance-of-payments crises, external dependence, fiscal instability and repeated recourse to the International Monetary Fund (IMF). This persistent failure raises a more fundamental question. Is Pakistan’s crisis primarily economic, or are economists asking the wrong questions? For decades, the dominant explanation has remained remarkably consistent. Pakistan is said to suffer from a narrow tax base, inadequate domestic resource mobilisation, weak public institutions, poor governance and inconsistent implementation of otherwise sound policies. According to this view, if taxes were broadened, exemptions withdrawn, administration digitalised and markets allowed to function efficiently, sustainable growth would eventually follow. There is much truth in these observations. They identify many of the symptoms. But they do not fully explain why technically sound reforms repeatedly fail in Pakistan while producing very different outcomes elsewhere. The reason, as suggested in earlier writings, is that Pakistan cannot be understood through the conventional assumptions of public finance alone. Economic policy does not operate in a constitutional vacuum; it reflects the incentives created by the political and legal institutions within which governments function. Orthodox economics generally assumes a constitutional order within which governments seek, however imperfectly, to maximise public welfare. Fiscal policy, taxation and expenditure are analysed as instruments for correcting market failures, financing public goods and promoting economic growth. Political constraints are acknowledged but usually treated as external distortions rather than integral components of economic analysis. Pakistan presents a different reality. Here, constitutional arrangements, political incentives, strategic considerations and informal institutions have shaped fiscal outcomes as much as, and often more than, economic policy itself. Taxation has frequently reflected the distribution of political power rather than principles of efficiency or equity.  Public expenditure has often been determined by strategic imperatives rather than developmental priorities. External assistance has repeatedly substituted for difficult domestic reforms. Elite bargains have preserved privilege while transferring the burden of adjustment to documented businesses, salaried individuals and ordinary consumers. These outcomes cannot be adequately explained by models that assume an impartial state pursuing coherent economic objectives. The analytical framework itself, therefore, requires reconsideration. This series proceeds from a simple but powerful proposition: before analysing taxes, budgets or debt, one must first understand the constitutional rules that shape political incentives. This is the central insight of Constitutional Political Economy (CPE).  Unlike conventional public finance, CPE begins not with taxes or budgets but with the constitutional rules, institutional incentives and political structures that determine how economic decisions are actually made. It asks a prior question: Who designs the rules under which economic policy operates, whose interests do those rules serve, and how do they shape incentives for both governments and citizens? Once that question is asked, many of Pakistan’s recurring puzzles begin to appear less mysterious. Why do technically sound tax reforms repeatedly fail? Why do successive governments rely on indirect taxation while avoiding politically influential sectors? Why has documentation remained elusive despite extraordinary advances in digital technology? Why does every external crisis quickly become a fiscal crisis? Why has debt expanded despite repeated stabilisation programmes? The answers lie not merely in economics but in the constitutional and political environment within which economics operates. This series proposes a different approach. Rather than examining taxation, debt or fiscal federalism as isolated subjects, it will analyse them as interconnected manifestations of Pakistan’s constitutional political economy. Future parts will explore how colonial legacies, post-independence constitutional choices, geopolitical dependency, elite capture, federal arrangements, judicial interpretation and administrative incentives have combined to shape Pakistan’s economic trajectory. The purpose is not to reject orthodox economics. Public finance remains indispensable. Sound taxation, efficient expenditure and macroeconomic stability are essential for any modern state. However, these instruments cannot achieve their intended objectives when the institutional environment within which they operate generates incentives that systematically frustrate reform. Pakistan’s crisis is not simply a fiscal crisis. Nor is it merely a crisis of governance. It is, more fundamentally, a crisis of constitutional political economy. Unless that deeper reality is understood, technical reforms, however well designed, will continue to produce disappointing results because they address the symptoms rather than the constitutional incentives that generate them. In the next part, we shall examine why the assumptions of orthodox public finance differ fundamentally from those of constitutional political economy, and why that distinction matters profoundly for understanding Pakistan. [To be continued]  ____________________________________________________________________ Dr. Ikramul Haq, Advocate Supreme Court, Adjunct Faculty at Lahore University of Management Sciences (LUMS), member Advisory Board and Visiting Senior Fellow of Pakistan Institute of Development Economics (PIDE), holds an LLD in tax laws. He was full-time journalist from 1979 to 1984 with Viewpoint and Dawn. He also served Civil Services of Pakistan from 1984 to 1996. 

When we talk about justice, we usually think about independent courts, fair and speedy decisions, and honest judges. But we often forget one important question: What about the justice-sector people behind all this? Judges have one of the most demanding jobs in society. Every day, they decide cases that affect people’s lives, freedom, families, businesses, property, and rights. They are expected to remain fair, independent, and impartial, no matter how difficult or ‘high profile’ the case may be. To recognize the importance of supporting judges, the United Nations General Assembly declared 25 July as the International Day for Judicial Well-being in March 2025. Judges also need healthy and supportive working conditions to perform their duties effectively. Being a judge is not easy. Many judges face heavy workloads, long working hours, difficult and emotionally charged cases, public criticism, security risks, and administrative responsibilities. These challenges can affect their physical and mental health. When judges are under constant stress, it can also affect the quality and speed of justice. Looking after judges is therefore not a personal favour; it helps the entire justice system. Healthy and motivated judges are better able to make fair decisions, uphold the rule of law, and maintain public confidence in the courts. The idea of judicial well-being gained international attention with the adoption of the Nauru Declaration on Judicial Well-being on 25 July 2024. The Nauru Declaration on Judicial Well-being is founded on seven guiding principles: (1) judicial well-being is essential to judicial independence and the effective administration of justice; (2) judicial stress should be recognized without stigma; (3) promoting judicial well-being is a shared responsibility of judges and judicial institutions; (4) courts should foster an ethical, respectful, and inclusive judicial culture; (5) awareness, education, prevention, and support measures should be encouraged; (6) each jurisdiction should develop well-being initiatives suited to its own needs and circumstances; and (7) all efforts to promote judicial well-being should respect human rights and fundamental freedoms. A 2021 survey by the Global Judicial Integrity Network of the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC), involving judges from more than 100 countries, highlights the growing importance of judicial well-being. The survey found that 76% of judges lack enough time to care for their physical and mental health, 92% experience work-related stress, 89% know colleagues suffering from stress or anxiety, 69% believe mental health remains a taboo subject in the judiciary, 83% say their court systems provide insufficient support, and 97% believe judicial well-being deserves greater attention. Judges also reported that poor well-being affects the efficiency of courts, the quality of judicial decisions, public confidence in the judiciary, access to justice, judicial integrity, and procedural fairness. These findings show that judges around the world face similar challenges. When judges receive proper support, they are better able to make fair and balanced decisions; work more efficiently; maintain high ethical standards; resist outside pressure; and strengthen public confidence in the courts. Supporting judges means strengthening the rule of law and improving the delivery of justice. Governments and judicial institutions should take practical steps to improve judicial well-being. These include reducing excessive workloads; providing confidential counselling and mental health services; creating peer-support programmes; offering leadership and well-being training; protecting judges from harassment and intimidation; and ensuring safe and healthy working environments. It is also important to create a culture where judges feel comfortable seeking support when they need it. In Pakistan, judges work under immense psychological pressure. The rapid growth of social media has changed the environment in which justice is delivered. Cases that are still pending before the courts are frequently debated online, with people openly expressing opinions and expecting decisions that match their own views. Such public discussion creates pressure on judges, even if it does not influence their legal reasoning or final decisions. Many judges are also present on social media or are more visible in public life than in the past. Their participation in public events and increased interaction with society have reduced the professional distance that traditionally existed between judges and the public. While greater engagement has its benefits, it also exposes judges to public criticism, expectations, and scrutiny, which can affect their psychological well-being. For a judge, there should be no distinction between an ordinary case and a so-called ‘high-profile case.’ Article 25 of the Constitution of Pakistan guarantees that all citizens are equal before the law. Every case deserves the same attention, fairness, and impartiality. However, media coverage and public opinion often create the perception that certain cases are more important than others. Even where judges remain completely independent, such external attention can create significant psychological pressure. Another challenge is public perception of the justice system. Justice is delivered by many institutions, including the police, prosecution, lawyers, prison authorities, investigators, and the courts. Delays and weaknesses often result from failures across the entire justice sector. Yet, when justice is delayed, or public confidence declines, the criticism is directed mainly at the judiciary. Judges become the visible face of the justice system and bear the burden of public dissatisfaction, even when the causes lie beyond the courts. This constant scrutiny, criticism, and pressure can affect judges’ morale and well-being. Pakistan has recently taken an important step by placing judicial well-being on the national agenda. To mark the International Day for Judicial Wellbeing, the Law and Justice Commission of Pakistan will organize the country’s first National Conference on Judicial Wellbeing at the Supreme Court of Pakistan on 25 July 2026. This initiative is a welcome beginning. However, promoting judicial well-being should become a permanent part of judicial reform rather than a one-day observance. Protecting judges’ well-being ultimately strengthens the rule of law and improves public confidence in the administration of justice. Justice is delivered by people. Judges are expected to remain fair, calm, independent, and ethical while making decisions that can change people’s lives. They can perform this important role best when their own well-being is protected.

In my view, Nawaz Sharif’s political revival is no longer just a possibility; it is clearly taking shape. His decision to return to the political frontline and personally lead the Pakistan Muslim League (N)’s campaign in Azad Jammu and Kashmir shows a leader who understands timing, patience and political strategy. The massive rallies in Muzaffarabad and Mirpur were not just election gatherings; they carried a much bigger political message. They demonstrated, in my opinion, that Nawaz Sharif still has the ability to attract large crowds and energise his supporters. For many party workers and voters who had been missing his direct presence, his return to the campaign stage created renewed confidence and enthusiasm. At the same time, these rallies sent a strong message to his political opponents and to those analysts who had predicted that Nawaz Sharif had retired from active politics. His presence on the ground has challenged that narrative and shown that he remains a central figure in Pakistan’s political landscape. During my last two meetings with Nawaz Sharif — one in the Galyat hills near Murree and another at Jati Umra, Raiwind — I observed a leader who appeared to be carefully planning his political revival. My impression was that he was not looking for a short-term political comeback but working on a long-term strategy. I have seen this before — not once, but twice. The first time was in 2006, when Nawaz Sharif came to London after leaving Saudi Arabia following his years in exile. I observed how he patiently rebuilt his political network, reconnected with party workers and gradually prepared the ground for his return to Pakistan’s political arena. The second time was before the 2024 general elections. During the more than three years he spent in London, I saw a similar approach — careful planning, political consultations and a gradual strategy to return at the right moment. In my opinion, the current phase follows the same pattern. Nawaz Sharif has relied on a team approach. At the centre, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif has focused on managing difficult economic, diplomatic and political challenges. His supporters believe his administration has helped improve Pakistan’s international engagement and presented the country as an important voice on global issues. On the other hand, Maryam Nawaz Sharif has emerged as a key part of this political strategy. As Chief Minister of Punjab, she has focused on development projects, infrastructure, public service delivery and administrative reforms. In my view, her performance has helped create the perception of a new generation of leadership within the PML-N. Punjab has, in my assessment, become an important example of the party’s governance message — that provinces can deliver through development, better infrastructure, improved administration and stronger public services. Nawaz Sharif’s political strength is also linked to his record as Prime Minister. His supporters highlight his focus on infrastructure development, including motorways, energy projects and large-scale national schemes. They argue that during his governments Pakistan moved towards economic stability, with greater emphasis on investment, connectivity and development. While political opinions about his governments differ, there is no doubt that Nawaz Sharif remains one of Pakistan’s most experienced political figures. With decades of experience in public life, he is among the most senior leaders in the region and has maintained relationships with world leaders. His experience in governance, diplomacy and international affairs remains one of his biggest political assets. Today, in my view, Nawaz Sharif is attempting another carefully planned political comeback. His direct involvement in the Azad Kashmir election campaign suggests that he is once again taking command of the political direction of his party. I believe his strategy is working because he is repeating a formula he has used before: patience, organisation, strengthening his team and returning to the people when he believes the political environment is favourable. History will ultimately be judged by the voters, but from my observations over the past two decades, Nawaz Sharif’s political revival appears to be following a familiar and carefully planned path.

Walk into any classroom and everything seems perfectly normal. Students are taking notes, chatting before class, and waiting for the lecture to begin. No one is arguing, no one is fighting, and everything appears calm on the surface. Yet for many students, there is a side of campus life that often goes unnoticed: bullying. For years, bullying has been treated as just a normal part of growing up, and honestly, many people will still argue that it is. Plenty still see it as harmless teasing, or worse, some rite of passage every student is simply expected to survive. The common response is often, “ignore it,” or “everyone deals with it, get over it,” as if that settles the matter. But ask the person actually on the receiving end, and it rarely feels harmless at all. What one student brushes off as a joke can leave another feeling embarrassed, isolated, and like they don’t belong anywhere in that room. The moment passes, but the hurt from it usually doesn’t, it lingers quietly while everyone else has already moved on. A student who gets mocked enough times eventually just stops raising his hand, or talking at all. Someone left out again and again stops trying to be included and stops showing up for activities.  Confidence is often the first thing to suffer, and academic performance also follows, when a student’s energy goes into avoiding attention rather than engaging in the class. By the time anyone notices, the damage is usually already done. Many would agree that this is because it does not appear all at once, it builds gradually and people mistake it for a bad mood, a phase, or anything but what it really is. As a student myself, this isn’t just something I’ve read about, I’ve seen how it feels to watch someone go quiet, to sit in a room that should feel safe and doesn’t. What I believe makes bullying so difficult to address is that it does not always look the way people expect. When people hear the word “bullying,” they often imagine physical confrontations. That’s not always how it turns out, though. In many cases, it is far less obvious and therefore much easier to overlook. It can take the form of repeated jokes at someone’s expense, hurtful nicknames, deliberate exclusion from social groups, or rumours spread behind a person’s back, things many of us have seen or experienced at some point. These behaviours are often considered as “just joking,” so a student ends up laughing along anyway, just to avoid seeming too sensitive, even when the comment is genuinely hurtful.  Emotional bullying is another common form including constant criticism, manipulation, or certain behaviours that slowly damages a person’s confidence and sense of belonging. This is probably the one most of us have gone through at some point in our student life, quietly, without ever really talking about it. And these days, it doesn’t even need a classroom to happen in. Social media, group chats, and anonymous messages have given it a whole new stage, extending its reach far beyond the campus walls. There is also a less-discussed form of bullying that affects some students whose parents work at the same school or college. These students are assumed to receive special treatment regardless of their actual performance. Their achievements may be dismissed as favouritism, and their hard work can be unfairly questioned. I admit it sounds strange, but it is a reality many students live with. While this may not involve insults or physical intimidation, constantly feeling judged for something beyond your control can be frustrating and humiliating. So why does bullying continue? Part of the answer is that mostly people underestimate its impact. A comment that seems minor to one person may stay with someone else for days or weeks. When unkind behaviour is overlooked, it can become normalized. What starts as a joke can slowly turn into a pattern. Worth asking too, is what drives a bully. Often, it is not insecurity but the confidence that comes from believing there will be no consequences. When nobody challenges the actions, it becomes a way of gaining attention, influence, or social status. That does not excuse the harm, but it helps explain why simply telling victims to ignore it doesn’t solve the problem. Now, the good part is that bullying is not inevitable. Small actions can make a meaningful difference. Teachers who recognize warning signs and students who choose to speak up when they witness unfair treatment all help create a better environment. Educational institutions should also make it easier for students to report problems without fear of embarrassment or retaliation. Perhaps most importantly, students themselves have more influence than they realize. A kind word, an invitation to join a group, or simply refusing to laugh at someone can change the atmosphere of a classroom.  Creating a respectful environment isn’t really about rules on a wall. It just needs one person willing to say something when everyone else stays quiet.

Pakistan’s banking sector is experiencing a fast pace digital transformation, which includes inception of new digital banks as well as digitalization of the banking services, like Raast, Roshan Digital Accounts etc. Nevertheless, this digitalization sometimes causes technology mistakes / errors in the banking systems as well. One such issue, though to a little extent, is the matter of mistakenly credited amounts to the customers’ accounts, due to system glitches. And unluckily, it is rare that the customers, who are beneficiaries of such mistaken credits, ever bother to intimate the banks about it or return the mistakenly credited amounts. The recovery of such amounts is though legally possible, however, since it is civil cause action, falling within the jurisdiction of civil courts, therefore, it becomes cumbersome for the banks to recover such amounts, easily and speedily. Needless to mention that the subject recovery does not fall within the jurisdiction of the Banking Courts and hence, speedy trial / summary procedure trial is not available for this kind of recovery. In addition, it is also difficult in these cases to have the support of the law enforcement agencies, due to some legal framework’s problems. Luckily, a learned Judge of the Lahore High Court Lahore has recently passed a remarkable judgement on the subject matter, which will support the banks, in such matters. The judgement is regarding a case, where a bank’s system mistakenly credited a significant amount to one of its customers, who utilized a major portion of the amount . The bank pursued the customer and he gave a cheque for the amount involved. The cheque was later bounced, due to insufficient funds in the account and the bank then lodged FIR against him under Section 489-F. He was arrested and his bail was refused by the lower Court, against which he approached the High Court. The High Court observed that the amount received by customer was not meant to be utilized by him, but it was to be retained and preserved by him for return back to the bank. The Honourable Court further observed that the customer was supposed and required to inform the sender/bank regarding the error and make arrangements for its return to the owner/bank. Furthermore, the Honourable Court observed that as soon as the customer became in a position to exercise his control over the property, the property stood entrusted to him impliedly, but he instead of returning the same to its owner/bank, withdrew significant amount and embezzled the same, as such offence punishable under Section 406 of PPC was fully attracted against him. This case will become a precedent that if a bank customer receives mistakenly credited amount in his account and utilizes it, then it will be an offence of Breach of Trust, under Section 406 of Pakistan Penal Code. The Judgement is reported as PLJ 2025 Cr. C 797 LHC.

The first part of this series argued that Pakistan’s recurring fiscal crises cannot be understood through conventional economic analysis alone. The distinction between public finance and Constitutional Political Economy (CPE) must now be explained. Both examine the role of the state in economic life, but they begin from different assumptions and ask fundamentally different questions. Traditional public finance is primarily concerned with what governments ought to do. In the classical framework associated with Richard Musgrave, fiscal policy performs three principal functions: allocation of resources, redistribution of income and macroeconomic stabilisation. Governments provide public goods, correct market failures, reduce unacceptable inequalities and use taxation and expenditure to promote stability and growth. This framework remains indispensable for analysing budgets, taxes and public expenditure. The International Monetary Fund’s discussion of Musgrave’s framework confirms its enduring influence on fiscal analysis. The difficulty arises when the state is treated as a single, impartial institution pursuing social welfare. In the real world, governments consist of politicians, bureaucrats, legislators, judges, regulators and numerous organised interests. Each operates under incentives and constraints. Political actors do not cease to pursue power, institutional advantage or personal interest merely because they enter public office. A tax system may therefore be inefficient not because its designers misunderstood economic theory, but because inefficiency benefits influential constituencies. An exemption may survive not because it promotes investment, but because its beneficiaries possess political power. Public expenditure may be allocated not according to social need, but according to the ability of institutions and groups to influence the budgetary process. Public finance generally asks: what tax would be efficient, equitable and productive? CPE asks a prior question: what political and constitutional arrangements will cause those in authority to adopt and administer such a tax fairly? This difference emerged most clearly in the work of James M. Buchanan, who was awarded the 1986 Nobel Prize for developing the contractual and constitutional foundations of economic and political decision-making. Buchanan argued that economists must specify their model of politics before recommending policies. They should examine the “constitution of economic polity”—the rules and constraints within which political actors make decisions—rather than assuming that government automatically acts as a benevolent guardian of collective welfare. In The Calculus of Consent, Buchanan and Gordon Tullock applied economic reasoning to collective decision-making. They distinguished between choices made within existing rules and choices concerning the rules themselves. Ordinary politics concerns decisions taken under established constitutional arrangements. Constitutional political economy examines how those arrangements should be designed, whose consent they require and what incentives they create. The distinction may be understood through the analogy of a game. Public finance often studies the moves made by players: whether a tax rate should be increased, expenditure reduced, subsidies withdrawn or borrowing limited. CPE examines the rules of the game: who may impose a tax, who may approve expenditure, how revenues are distributed, what majorities are required, which institutions are accountable and what remedies exist when power is abused. The rules determine the range of possible outcomes. Replacing one finance minister, tax administrator or economic adviser cannot fundamentally alter results if the institutional incentives remain unchanged. Buchanan and Geoffrey Brennan developed this insight further in The Reason of Rules. Their focus was not merely upon particular policy choices but upon the rules governing political and market interaction. CPE therefore does not ask only whether a government policy appears desirable. It asks whether the institutional process through which it is adopted protects citizens against arbitrary, discriminatory or predatory use of power. This approach does not imply hostility towards the state. A capable state is essential for education, healthcare, infrastructure, environmental protection, social security and economic development. CPE merely refuses to assume that state power will automatically be exercised for these purposes. A strong state without constitutional restraints may become strong against ordinary citizens while remaining weak before powerful interests. These insights are neither exclusively modern nor exclusively Western. Centuries before the emergence of public choice theory, Ibn Khaldun analysed taxation as part of the broader rise and decline of states. He observed that governments in their earlier stages could obtain substantial revenues from relatively moderate assessments, whereas later rulers frequently imposed heavier burdens but collected less as incentives weakened, production contracted and coercive expenditure expanded. Arthur B. Laffer subsequently acknowledged that the proposition associated with the Laffer Curve was not his invention and specifically identified Ibn Khaldun as an important precursor. Ibn Khaldun’s contribution, however, went far beyond a relationship between tax rates and revenue: he connected fiscal policy with political legitimacy, administrative expansion, elite consumption and institutional decline. The Constitution of Pakistan itself demonstrates that taxation is not merely an economic instrument. Article 77 provides that no federal tax may be levied except by or under the authority of an Act of Parliament. The provision embodies the constitutional principle that taxation requires lawful legislative authority; it is not simply an administrative technique for raising revenue. Article 160 creates the National Finance Commission and provides the framework for distributing specified revenues between the Federation and the provinces. Article 160(3A) further protects the provincial share by declaring that it cannot be lower than that provided under the preceding Award. These provisions represent a constitutional bargain concerning political authority, federalism and access to public resources. Revenue distribution is consequently not just an accounting exercise. It forms part of the structure of the federation itself. Article 140A requires the provinces to establish elected local governments and devolve political, administrative and financial responsibility to them. Fiscal policy cannot produce accountable public services when decision-making remains remote from citizens and constitutionally required devolution is treated as optional. Articles 37 and 38 contain important commitments regarding social justice, education, economic well-being, reduction of inequality and provision of basic necessities. They are Principles of Policy rather than directly enforceable Fundamental Rights, and Article 30 limits their judicial enforceability. Their inclusion nevertheless demonstrates that the constitutional purposes of revenue collection extend beyond achievement of numerical tax targets. The state collects resources to fulfil social and economic obligations, not

The Post-2027 Financial System in Pakistan strategy paper, released by the Ministry of Finance, is an important acknowledgement that the elimination of Riba [Quranic term for unjust gain and enrichment by exploitative use of capital without any real underlying economic activity] can no longer remain an open-ended constitutional promise. The paper correctly links the transition to the Federal Shariat Court judgment of April 28, 2022, and the Constitution (Twenty-sixth Amendment) Act, 2024, which inserted a deadline into Article 38(f) for the complete elimination of Riba before January 1, 2028. The main weakness is that the paper converts a binding constitutional requirement into a gradual, conditional and partly voluntary programme. The strategy therefore supports the objective of eliminating Riba while simultaneously preserving routes through which interest-based finance could continue after the constitutional deadline. The Islamic legal standard is stricter than the strategy’s policy language. The Federal Shariat Court held in Shariat Petition No. 30-L of 1991 and connected matters that Riba is prohibited in all its forms and manifestations, while the International Islamic Fiqh Academy’s Resolution No. 10 (10/2) of 1985 treats any stipulated increase on a loan or overdue debt as prohibited Riba. The Qur’anic rule permits the creditor to recover the principal but not an agreed increase merely because time has passed, while Sahih Muslim 1598 condemns the receiver, payer, recorder and witnesses of an interest transaction. The legal test is therefore based on economic substance rather than terminology. The contract does not become Islamic merely because interest is renamed as profit or mark-up where the financier receives a predetermined debt increase without genuine ownership or risk. The strategy’s most serious contradiction concerns foreign-owned financial institutions. The paper expects most domestically owned institutions to convert, but it makes the transformation of majority foreign-owned banks voluntary and later suggests that such banks may continue offering both conventional and Islamic products. The exemption is inconsistent with Article 38(f) of the Constitution because the constitutional character of Riba cannot depend on the nationality of shareholders. The same interest-bearing loan cannot be prohibited when issued by a Pakistani-controlled bank and acceptable when issued by a foreign-controlled bank [Rethinking Pakistan’s economic model—III: Banking, debt & Illusion of Reform, Minute Mirror, May 3, 2026] The exemption would create a two-tier market in which domestic banks bear conversion costs while foreign institutions retain conventional products. The strategy should instead impose an activity-based rule under which no licensed institution, regardless of ownership, may originate a new interest-bearing contract in Pakistan after December 31, 2027.   The treatment of existing conventional debt creates a second constitutional problem. The strategy promises that obligations contracted before the deadline will continue according to their original terms and that conventional public debt will be replaced only when each instrument matures.  The approach may preserve interest payments for years after January 1, 2028, where sovereign bonds, multilateral loans or syndicated facilities have long residual maturities. The concern does not mean that Pakistan should repudiate contracts, because unilateral default could trigger litigation, acceleration, cross-default and loss of market access. The Government must distinguish unavoidable transitional obligations from liabilities that can be refinanced, converted or redeemed early. The policy should require a debt-by-debt register showing principal, interest, maturity, governing law, conversion options, creditor consent and final sunset dates rather than granting a blanket exception until maturity. The language governing new finance is also too weak. The strategy says that the Government will “explore all options” for Shariah-compliant domestic funding and will “strive” to obtain Islamic foreign financing where reasonable and commercially viable options are available. The constitutional obligation is not a best-efforts commitment conditioned on pricing convenience. The revised policy should prohibit new interest-bearing public borrowing after the cut-off and require every proposed Murabaha, Ijarah, Istisna, Salam, Musharakah, Mudarabah or Wakalah structure to receive documented legal, fiscal and Shariah approval. The legislative programme must also identify the precise amendments required to the State Bank of Pakistan Act, 1956, the Banking Companies Ordinance, 1962, the Financial Institutions (Recovery of Finances) Ordinance, 2001, the Government Securities Act, 2006, the Securities Act, 2015, the Companies Act, 2017, the Deposit Protection Corporation Act, 2016, the Insurance Ordinance, 2000 and relevant tax, insolvency and provincial laws. The paper’s assertion that banking-law amendments are “minor” understates the scale of the required transformation. The monetary policy framework requires scrutiny because Shariah compliance cannot be achieved merely by relabeling conventional central bank instruments [Who will draft Riba Prohibition Law? Minute Mirror, April 7, 2026]. The strategy states that the State Bank will use Shariah compliant open market operations and standing facilities, yet SBP’s DMMD Circular No. 24 of 2021 provides that the expected return on its Mudarabah based standing facility equals the conventional overnight reverse repo ceiling rate. The use of a conventional benchmark does not automatically invalidate a genuine Mudarabah, but mechanical replication creates a material form over substance risk. The revised framework should require transparent profit pools, ex-post reconciliation of returns, genuine exposure to permissible assets and clear treatment of losses—Is Riba free banking possible?, Dawn, April 27, 2012. The framework should also explain how reserve requirements, lender-of-last-resort support, liquidity absorption, foreign-exchange operations and monetary transmission will function without continuing dependence on an interest-rate corridor. The proposed hybrid Ijarah-cum-Murabaha Sukuk and Assets Registry Company are practical responses to the shortage of sovereign assets, but they require stronger safeguards. The paper states that the hybrid structure could support Sukuk issuance approaching twice the value of underlying assets and that registered federal assets would remain in governmental use. The International Islamic Fiqh Academy requires Sukuk to establish true ownership, effective disposal rights and corresponding liability rather than fictitious or circular asset transfers. The registry should disclose title, valuation, encumbrance, beneficial ownership, usufruct and the exact risk transferred to investors. The treatment of retained earnings also requires a purification methodology separating lawful capital and trading income from identifiable interest-derived earnings. The paper’s statement that converting banks may keep retained earnings is incomplete unless independent Shariah audit, charitable disposal of prohibited income and transparent

In the autumn of 2005, the earth rose in wrath against the ancient hills of Kashmir. On the eighth day of October, a violent convulsion of 7.6 magnitude tore through the region, its epicentre lying a mere 19 kms northeast of Muzaffarabad. The tremor was felt far beyond Pakistan’s borders, reverberating through Afghanistan and Tajikistan, across the valleys of India, and even into the remote expanses of Xinjiang. It proved one of the deadliest natural disasters of that decade, claiming thousands of lives and reducing entire villages to rubble. For months the ground refused to rest; careful records later counted no fewer than 497 aftershocks between October and the following March. During such uncertainty a sobering lesson emerged; buildings erected with care and strength stood firm against the repeated tremors, while those raised hastily or without conscience crumbled into dust and despair. A parallel drama of sudden upheaval and lingering aftershocks has unfolded more recently, though this time the forces at work have been those of human conflict rather than nature’s blind fury. Late in February 2026, long-simmering tensions between Iran and USA erupted into open warfare, with Israel joining the fray in decisive fashion. Large-scale aerial and missile assaults struck hundreds of targets across Iran, homing in upon military bases, nuclear facilities, and centres of leadership. The loss of Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, in the opening strikes sent shockwaves through the region and beyond. Tehran responded with barrages of missiles and swarms of drones that lit the night skies and struck at targets across several countries. For several weeks in March and April the fighting intensified, leaving thousands dead—most of them in Iran and Lebanon—and threatening to engulf wider circles of involvement involving Hezbollah and other actors. Shipping in the Strait of Hormuz, that vital artery of global energy, faced grave peril, and the world watched anxiously as oil supplies trembled on the edge of disruption. A measure of relief arrived around the middle of June when a MOU was concluded between the United States and Iran. The accord promised a halt to major combat operations, the reopening of the strait to peaceful navigation, and the beginning of serious negotiations concerning Iran’s nuclear program. For a brief season hope flickered that reason might yet prevail. Yet by the seventh and eighth of July the ceasefire had fractured. Iranian forces struck at merchant vessels in the Hormuz passage; the United States answered with fresh waves of airstrikes and the reimposition of a naval blockade. Iran, in turn, launched retaliatory attacks upon American and coalition positions in Bahrain, Kuwait, Jordan, and elsewhere. As July draws toward its close, the pattern of nocturnal American strikes and Iranian counterblows continues, holding the Gulf in a state of restless tension. Though the principal theatre of war lies distant from our frontiers, its aftershocks have travelled with merciless swiftness to the streets and bazaars of Pakistan. The initial convulsion in global oil markets followed hard upon the early phase of hostilities. Petrol prices in Pakistan surged to an unprecedented four hundred and fifty-eight rupees and forty-one paise per litre on the third of April—a record born of disrupted supplies and fevered speculation. Diesel climbed still higher, touching five hundred and twenty rupees and thirty-five paise. The consequences touched every corner of national life; transporters raised their fares, farmers faced higher costs for machinery and transport, and ordinary households tightened their belts as inflation rippled outward. For a time, as diplomatic channels—including Pakistan’s own quiet mediation efforts—bore fruit and the strait began to function once more, prices eased and a measure of stability returned. Yet the renewed outbreak of fighting in July has shattered that fragile calm. Oil prices have again become uncontrollable, climbing under the pressure of uncertainty and fresh speculation. The government, its options narrowed by heavy reliance on international loans and a vulnerable economy, has found itself compelled to adjust domestic fuel rates almost daily, basing decisions as much upon forecasts of future trouble as upon present realities. Thus, the nation has endured a great initial shock followed by persistent aftershocks, much like the Kashmir earthquake two decades earlier. Each fresh tremor in the Gulf sends another wave through our foreign exchange reserves, our transport sector, and the fragile purchasing power of the common citizen. Industries dependent upon steady fuel supplies have curtailed operations; the cost of everyday commodities has risen in sympathy; and the burden has fallen most heavily upon those least able to bear it. Pakistan’s economy, long accustomed to navigating external storms while standing upon borrowed foundations, feels these disturbances with particular acuity. Even in these challenging times, the dry wit of everyday Pakistanis remains unshaken. One recalls an incident from the days when the Daily Pakistan newspaper was under the ownership of Akbar Bhatti. A reporter rushed into the newsroom one afternoon declaring that Bhatti Sahib’s car had met with an accident. Before concern could fully form, another veteran journalist remarked with a knowing smile that this surely meant salaries would not arrive on time that month. The quip, though light, spoke volumes about the precariousness of life and livelihood when those at the helm encounter misfortune. Pakistan has passed through many such seasons of trial—political upheavals, economic tempests, and natural calamities alike. Each time the nation has gathered its scattered strength, mended what could be mended, and pressed onward. The present difficulties arising from the conflict in the Gulf, with their daily toll upon fuel prices and economic confidence, constitute yet another test of our collective endurance. The strong institutions and resilient spirit of the people have served as anchors in the past; they remain our surest hope today. God willing, this too shall pass, and Pakistan shall emerge from these aftershocks steadier and more united, its foundations reinforced by hardship and its future secured by the unyielding will of its citizens.