New Provinces

The recent press conference by ISPR Director General Lieutenant General Ahmed Sharif Chaudhry was presented as a significant and comprehensive briefing outlining Pakistan’s strategic direction, national priorities, and approach to security, governance, economic stability, terrorism, and external interference. Lasting more than two hours in Rawalpindi, the briefing went beyond a routine security update by addressing sensitive national issues in detail and providing operational information supported by data, charts, and presentations. It emphasized transparency, offered the military’s perspective on the country’s security environment, and sought to provide clarity on the state’s actions and long-term plans. The conference highlighted the breadth of the challenges facing Pakistan and outlined what was described as a unified path forward, while emphasizing the armed forces’ commitment to national security and sovereignty. A central theme of the address was that good governance is essential for Pakistan’s long-term security and stability, with the argument that military operations alone cannot eliminate terrorism and extremism without stronger administrative and institutional capacity. The DG ISPR described security and governance as closely interconnected and cited the National Action Plan (NAP) as a consensus framework requiring effective implementation through measures such as countering extremist narratives, disrupting terror financing, and strengthening institutions. Referring to Pakistan’s population of around 240 to 250 million, he suggested reviewing whether the existing four-province administrative structure adequately serves the goal of good governance and said that, if an administrative reset is considered necessary, it should be decided by the country’s political leadership through constitutional and legal processes reflecting the will of the people. He also underscored the distinction between the military’s responsibility for security and the authority of civilian institutions over political and administrative reforms, reaffirming that such decisions should remain within the constitutional framework. A significant portion of the press conference was dedicated to providing a stark and detailed update on the country’s counterterrorism efforts, presenting an overwhelming amount of operational data. The DG ISPR revealed that security forces have conducted a staggering 40,348 intelligence-based operations (IBOs) across Pakistan so far in 2026, which averages to nearly 200 operations every single day. This relentless operational tempo is a testament to the proactive and aggressive posture adopted by the security forces to root out militancy from every corner of the country, leaving no safe haven for terrorists to operate. Of these, the majority—over 31,000—were carried out in Balochistan, underscoring the province’s central role in the national security strategy and the immense efforts being invested to bring stability to that region. He reported that a total of 3,145 terrorism incidents had taken place in the country in 2026, with 1,971 reported from Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, 1,148 from Balochistan, and 26 from other parts of the country. The results of these operations, he stated, have been significant, with 2,084 confirmed terrorists eliminated. This, he emphasized, translates to an average of 10 terrorists being killed every day, which he described as the highest operational ratio ever achieved in the country’s history. This high kill ratio is indicative of the intelligence-led nature of the operations, where precise targeting minimizes collateral damage and maximizes the impact on terrorist networks. However, he also acknowledged the heavy price paid for this peace, revealing that 819 Pakistanis have embraced martyrdom this year in the fight against terrorism. This somber figure includes 303 Pakistan Army personnel, 194 police and other law enforcement officials, and 322 innocent civilians. The sacrifice of these brave individuals, he noted, is a debt that can never be fully repaid, but it underscores the determination of the nation to prevail against the scourge of terrorism. He also disclosed that 28 suicide bombings have occurred nationwide, the majority of which, he alleged, were carried out by Afghan nationals. This disclosure highlighted the nexus between cross-border terrorism and the instability in Afghanistan, a point he elaborated on to stress the need for effective border management and regional cooperation. In a crucial clarification that resonated deeply with the public, the DG ISPR addressed the concept of a “hard state,” dispelling any misconceptions about its meaning. He explained that a “hard state” does not refer to military rule, nor does it imply a repressive or authoritarian regime. Instead, he defined it as a country where the Constitution and the rule of law are enforced equally for every individual without any discrimination or elitism. It is a system where all matters are resolved through constitutional and legal mechanisms, and where every citizen is equal before the law, regardless of their social or political standing. This vision of a “hard state” is fundamentally about strengthening the state’s institutions and legal frameworks to ensure justice and accountability for all, thereby creating a more stable and prosperous society where the rights of every citizen are protected. He used this definition to counter the narratives of those who fear a strong state, arguing that a “hard state” is the ultimate guarantor of democracy and individual freedoms, as it prevents the strong from exploiting the weak and ensures that the law is the supreme authority. Turning his focus to the complex security situation in Balochistan, the DG ISPR adopted a nuanced approach that combined a firm security stance with a clear commitment to development and public engagement. He firmly rejected the narrative that the security situation in the province is deteriorating, calling it a deliberate and coordinated campaign to create a false perception. He alleged that certain elite groups and tribal leaders (sardars) have historically opposed social progress to preserve their own power structures, and he stressed the need to empower the people of Balochistan instead of these traditional power brokers. The state’s priority, he declared, is to resolve the genuine grievances of the province’s residents while continuing decisive operations against militant groups who seek to disrupt the peace. He outlined a comprehensive development agenda for the province, detailing that the state would engage directly with the people of Balochistan rather than with disruptive elements. To this end, he highlighted that billions of rupees are being invested in socio-economic development projects across the province.

Every year, Pakistan measures the toll of disasters in human lives. We count the dead, the injured, the displaced, the houses destroyed and the roads washed away. These figures shape government responses, determine compensation, and influence future planning. Yet one category of victims remains almost invisible: animals. Whether floods sweep through Punjab and Sindh, earthquakes strike remote communities, droughts destroy grazing lands, or heatwaves scorch entire districts, there is no comprehensive national system that records how many companion animals, livestock or wild animals die. While the National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA) has significantly advanced Pakistan’s disaster preparedness through technology-driven early warning systems, hazard monitoring and risk analysis, the routine collection and publication of animal mortality data has yet to become a core part of disaster reporting. This is more than a statistical omission. It is a blind spot that weakens disaster preparedness, environmental protection and public health. Animals are not merely victims of disasters; they are indicators of disasters. A sudden increase in deaths among birds, fish, livestock or wildlife can reveal contaminated water, disease outbreaks, toxic pollution, habitat destruction or ecosystem collapse long before these threats become obvious to people. Ignoring these signals means ignoring valuable early warnings. The relationship works in the opposite direction as well. Dead animals left unrecorded and improperly disposed of after floods or other emergencies create serious public health risks. Carcasses contaminate water sources, attract scavengers, encourage insect breeding and may facilitate the spread of infectious diseases if not handled according to veterinary and environmental protocols. Disaster management cannot end when human rescue operations conclude. Recovery also requires environmental sanitation. Pakistan has increasingly embraced the concept of anticipatory disaster management. NDMA now operates sophisticated early warning platforms using satellite monitoring, artificial intelligence, weather forecasting and hazard mapping to reduce disaster risks before they become catastrophes. But even the most advanced technology cannot compensate for missing ecological data collected on the ground. A country cannot manage what it does not measure. Animal mortality data should become as routine as reporting damaged schools or collapsed bridges. It should distinguish between livestock, companion animals and wildlife. It should identify causes of death where possible. It should map geographic clusters. Most importantly, it should be shared among veterinary authorities, wildlife departments, environmental agencies and disaster management institutions. This is not simply about animal welfare. It is about One Health—the recognition that human health, animal health and environmental health are inseparable. A disaster that devastates wildlife rarely stops with wildlife. The same contaminated river that kills fish may later provide drinking water to nearby communities. The same disease that wipes out livestock can threaten food security and livelihoods. The same habitat destruction that displaces wild animals may increase conflict between humans and wildlife. Animals also play a remarkable role in preventing disasters themselves. Mangrove forests, sustained by countless marine species, reduce the force of cyclones and storm surges before they reach coastal communities. Coral reefs act as natural breakwaters, absorbing wave energy that would otherwise damage coastlines. Beavers, where they exist naturally, build wetlands that slow floods, reduce erosion and store water during droughts. Earthworms improve soil structure, allowing rainwater to infiltrate the ground instead of running off as destructive floods. Even species that many overlook quietly contribute to disaster resilience. Vultures rapidly remove animal carcasses from the environment, reducing opportunities for disease to spread. Pollinating insects maintain vegetation that stabilises soils and reduces erosion. Forest elephants in parts of Africa disperse seeds that regenerate forests, strengthening ecosystems that absorb carbon and regulate water cycles. Healthy bat populations consume enormous numbers of insects, helping maintain ecological balance. In Pakistan, wetlands provide another example. Migratory birds, fish and aquatic life support ecosystems that naturally store floodwaters and reduce downstream flooding. Destroying these habitats weakens one of nature’s own flood management systems. History also records countless instances where animals sensed impending disasters before humans. Elephants moved to higher ground before the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami. Birds and other wildlife have altered their behaviour before earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. Scientists continue to study these phenomena, but they demonstrate an important point: animals are deeply connected to environmental changes that humans often fail to detect immediately. Perhaps the greatest lesson is that biodiversity itself is infrastructure. We invest billions in concrete flood barriers, embankments and drainage systems, yet healthy forests, wetlands, grasslands and coastal ecosystems quietly perform many of the same functions every day without invoices or maintenance contracts. Their effectiveness depends on thriving animal populations. When those populations decline, nature’s capacity to protect us declines with them. Pakistan’s disaster laws and policies should therefore evolve beyond a human-only perspective. Disaster assessments should include veterinary response teams. Wildlife mortality should be documented after every major disaster. Livestock losses should be analysed not only for compensation but also to understand changing environmental risks. Dead animals should be safely collected, tested where appropriate, and disposed of according to scientific protocols to minimise disease transmission. The Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction emphasises understanding disaster risk through better data and stronger information systems. Comprehensive disaster data cannot exist if millions of animal lives remain invisible. The next flood, earthquake or heatwave will not distinguish between humans and animals. Neither should our disaster management system. Every uncounted animal is not simply a missing statistic. It is a missed warning, a missed opportunity to understand environmental change, and a missed chance to build a safer and more resilient Pakistan.

In the winter of 1979, a neighbour’s house caught fire. The Soviet Union had marched into Afghanistan, and the flames of war were licking at the walls of Kabul. From across the ocean, a distant power arrived at Pakistan’s door. It did not come with soldiers. It came with money, guns, and a promise: *”Let us fight this fire together. Use your roof. Use your roads. We will stand with you. We will not let the fire reach your house.”* Pakistan opened its door. What else could it do? The Soviet army sat on its western border. The world was divided into two camps, and neutrality was a luxury no frontline state could afford. For ten years, Pakistan became the staging ground for a war that was not its own. It hosted three million refugees. Its cities swelled. Its tribal areas became training grounds for fighters armed and funded by outside money. Weapons arrived by the shipload through Karachi. Pakistani officers coordinated strategy. Every bullet fired at a Soviet convoy in the Hindu Kush passed through Pakistani hands. The distant power paid the bills. It sent the Stinger missiles. It called the resistance fighters “freedom fighters” and Pakistan a “frontline state.” But the war was never truly about Pakistan’s safety. It was about bleeding the Soviet Union in a distant mountainside, using Pakistani soil as the operating theatre and Afghan bodies as the currency. Then, in 1989, the Soviet Union withdrew. The fire in the neighbour’s house went out. And the distant power that had promised eternal friendship turned its attention elsewhere. The billions dried up. The diplomatic interest evaporated. Afghanistan, the battlefield, was left to warlords who turned the weapons on each other. Pakistan was left with three million refugees who would not go home, a Kalashnikov culture that would not disappear, and a border that would never again be quiet. The weapons that had been given to fight the Soviets did not rust. They remained. They moved into streets, into disputes, into corners of the country where the state had never fully reached. The guest who had brought the fire extinguisher had started a blaze that spread to the host’s own house — and then moved to a new neighbourhood. The distant power won its strategic objective at the cost of Afghan and Pakistani soil, then walked away. Its own cities were never bombed. Its own children never became refugees. Its economy never staggered under the weight of someone else’s war. Pakistan, which had signed no formal treaty of alliance but had acted as an ally in every meaningful sense, was left holding the pieces. This is what happens when alliances are forged in the middle of a fire. The stronger partner does not need your victory. He needs your usefulness. He needs you to hold the front, to absorb the blow, to stand in a place where he does not wish to stand. And when the war ends, he will shake your hand and go home — while you remain amid the embers, wondering why the fire you helped extinguish has reignited in your own courtyard. History records a curious pattern. The alliances that have endured — the ones that outlasted their founders and shaped the world for generations — were almost never built while the house was burning. NATO was forged in 1949, not because the bombs were falling on Paris, but because the memory of war was still fresh and the desire to prevent it was shared. The parties had time to read the text, to negotiate the terms, to build institutions that could survive a change of government on either side. An alliance born in the middle of a fire is a different creature entirely. It is an emergency measure. And emergency measures have a way of becoming permanent arrangements that no one planned and no one fully controls. When you sign while the heat is at your back and the smoke is in your eyes, you do not have time to ask who owns the hose, who pays for the water, and who walks away when the flames are out. The Afghan episode is not ancient history. It is in our own lifetime. It is written in the smoke that still rises from our western border. And it is written in the simple fact that the weapons once aimed at a northern invader eventually turned inward, because no one had written a clause for what happens after the guest leaves. Pakistan has every right to defend itself. Pakistan has every right to seek friends in a dangerous world. But history offers a quiet observation for those who are listening: **the strongest alliances are built in peacetime, not borrowed in panic.** The fire is real. The neighbour’s house is burning. Yet the hand that offers protection in the middle of a war is holding a different ledger than the hand that offers partnership in the middle of calm. That is not a warning against friendship. It is simply what the record shows.

By Muhammad Imran, Staff Member, SAHSOL-LUMS and Asma Rahmat, Final Year Law Student, SLC Superior University and Wafa Sarfraz, Law Student, SAHSOL-LUMS   Introduction: Article 10 of the Constitution of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan enshrines the fundamental constitutional safeguards against arbitrary arrest and detention, thereby giving concrete procedural effect to the broader guarantee of personal liberty contained in Article 9. Rather than leaving these protections to ordinary legislation—such as Sections 60, 61, and 81 of the Code of Criminal Procedure (Cr.P.C.)—the Constitution elevates them to the status of entrenched fundamental rights. Consequently, these guarantees cannot be diluted or abrogated through ordinary legislative enactments, and any executive action or statutory provision inconsistent with Article 10 is liable to be declared void under Article 8 of the Constitution. Structurally, Article 10 establishes two distinct constitutional regimes. Clauses (1) and (2) prescribe procedural safeguards applicable to ordinary arrests and detention, whereas clauses (3) to (9) regulate the exceptional constitutional framework governing preventive detention. Therefore, the Honorable Mr. Justice Fazal Karim (Late) in his magic book for district judiciary practice, ‘Access to Justice in Pakistan’, described it as a Mini-Criminal Code, and has rightly described it so. Interplay with the Constitutional Scheme of Fundamental Rights: Article 10 does not operate in isolation; rather, it forms an integral part of Pakistan’s constitutional framework for the protection of liberty, dignity, and due process. Read together with Articles 9, 10A, and 14, it establishes a comprehensive constitutional guarantee against arbitrary deprivation of liberty. Article 9 guarantees that no person shall be deprived of life or liberty except in accordance with law, while Article 14 protects the inviolability of the dignity of man. Article 10 operationalizes these guarantees by regulating the manner in which the State may lawfully arrest and detain individuals. Consequently, arbitrary arrest, unlawful detention, and custodial abuse constitute violations not only of Article 10 but also of Articles 9 and 14. The relationship between Article 10 and Article 10A is equally significant. Introduced through the Eighteenth Constitutional Amendment, Article 10A constitutionalizes the rights to due process and a fair trial. Jurisprudentially, Article 10 governs the investigative stage by ensuring lawful arrest, prompt notification of the grounds of arrest, immediate access to legal counsel, and judicial supervision within twenty-four hours. Article 10A, by contrast, safeguards the adjudicatory process through guarantees of an impartial tribunal, equality of arms, open justice, and procedural fairness. Together, these provisions establish a continuous constitutional guarantee of due process extending from arrest until the conclusion of criminal proceedings. Constitutional Safeguards under Clauses (1) and (2): Clauses (1) and (2) prescribe the minimum constitutional standards governing every lawful arrest. An arrested person must be informed, as soon as may be, of the grounds of arrest in a manner sufficient to enable an effective challenge to the legality of detention. The Constitution further guarantees an unfettered right to consult and be defended by a legal practitioner of one’s own choice, thereby ensuring meaningful legal assistance from the earliest stage of criminal proceedings. Additionally, every arrested person must be produced before the nearest Magistrate within twenty-four hours of arrest, excluding the time reasonably required for the journey from the place of arrest to the court. Continued detention beyond this constitutional period is permissible only upon the authority of a Magistrate through a valid judicial remand order. Collectively, these guarantees subject executive power to immediate judicial scrutiny and minimize the risk of arbitrary or prolonged detention. Implied Constitutional Rights under Article 10: Apart from its express guarantees, Article 10 also incorporates several implied constitutional rights arising from constitutional principle, comparative jurisprudence, and judicial interpretation. The obligation to communicate the grounds of arrest necessarily presupposes that lawful and objectively justifiable grounds must exist before an arrest is effected. Accordingly, an arrest cannot lawfully be undertaken on mere suspicion or with reasons manufactured retrospectively. This reflects the common law doctrine of reasonable or probable cause and has been affirmed by the Supreme Court of Pakistan, particularly in Mst. Sughran Bibi v. The State, which held that mere nomination in an FIR does not, by itself, justify immediate arrest. Similarly, the constitutional right to “consult” legal counsel necessarily extends beyond representation during trial. It attaches immediately upon arrest, including during police custody, investigation, and interrogation, thereby ensuring legal assistance at the earliest and most vulnerable stage of the criminal process. Preventive Detention: The Constitutional Exception: Although Article 10 principally governs ordinary arrests, clauses (3) to (9) establish a distinct constitutional framework for preventive detention. Preventive detention differs fundamentally from ordinary criminal detention. It is preventive rather than punitive, aiming to avert threats to national security, public order, or defence rather than punish past conduct. Recognizing the extraordinary nature of such detention, the Constitution subjects it to stringent procedural safeguards. The detaining authority must ordinarily communicate the grounds of detention within fifteen days unless disclosure would be contrary to the public interest. Furthermore, detention extending beyond three months requires approval from an independent Review Board comprising serving or former Judges of the High Court or Supreme Court. The Supreme Court has consistently held that the executive’s “satisfaction” justifying preventive detention is not immune from judicial review. Rather, it must be supported by objective and relevant material establishing a reasonable apprehension of harm. Preventive detention therefore remains subject to constitutional principles of legality, proportionality, and procedural fairness. Constitutional Remedies and Judicial Enforcement: The principal constitutional mechanism for enforcing Article 10 is the jurisdiction of the High Courts under Article 199. The writ of habeas corpus provides an effective constitutional remedy where an individual is unlawfully arrested or detained. If a detainee is not informed of the grounds of arrest, denied access to legal counsel, or detained beyond twenty-four hours without judicial authorization, the High Court may require the production of the detainee and determine the legality of the detention. Upon finding a violation of Article 10, the Court may order immediate release and grant appropriate constitutional relief. Except where expressly suspended during a constitutionally proclaimed emergency under Part X

I first learned to think of rivers as questions of survival, not just geography, from the late Dr. Mohammad Moniruzzaman Miah, the visionary Dhaka University vice-chancellor and geographer whose work shaped a generation of Bangladeshi thinking on transboundary water. In the years when Khaleda Zia’s government stood firm in defending Bangladesh’s water rights, I was part of the technical effort that helped galvanize opposition to India’s proposed 1,500 MW Tipaimukh Dam on the Barak River in Manipur — a fight documented in the broader scholarly record of that transnational resistance movement. That episode taught a lesson Bangladesh cannot afford to forget as it approaches the next deadline in its water diplomacy: December 2026, when the landmark 1996 Ganges Water Treaty expires. The Ganges Treaty, signed in December 1996, was hailed as a diplomatic breakthrough — the first long-term water-sharing arrangement between India and Bangladesh. But thirty years on, its formula looks less like fairness and more like a structural handicap for the downstream nation. Under the treaty, dry-season flow at the Farakka Barrage (January 1 to May 31) is divided in alternating ten-day blocks. When total flow is 70,000 cusecs or less, the two countries split it 50-50. But when flow reaches 75,000 cusecs or more — precisely the scenario Bangladesh needs most, during peak dry-season stress — India takes a fixed 40,000 cusecs off the top, and Bangladesh gets only the remainder. In practice, the treaty guarantees India a floor while leaving Bangladesh’s share to fluctuate with whatever is left. For a delta nation of 175 million people, dependent on the Ganges-Padma system for irrigation, drinking water, fisheries, and salinity control, that asymmetry has never been sustainable. It is even less so now, as climate change intensifies dry-season scarcity and accelerates saline intrusion along the coast. Bangladesh is not asking for charity. It is asking for a renewed, predictable framework that reflects present-day hydrological and demographic realities — not the assumptions of three decades ago. That renewal must also confront a public health emergency that the original treaty never anticipated: the mobilization of naturally occurring arsenic into the very groundwater tens of millions of Bangladeshis depend on for drinking water. The mechanism is worth explaining plainly. Reduced dry-season flow in the Ganges limits natural flushing and recharge of shallow aquifers. Farmers and municipalities, deprived of adequate surface water, turn increasingly to groundwater pumping for irrigation and drinking supply. That heavy extraction alters subsurface flow and oxygen conditions, encouraging microbial processes that break down buried organic carbon and release arsenic bound in iron-rich sediments — arsenic that occurs naturally in the geology of the Bengal delta. It’s important to be precise here: most researchers attribute the origin of this arsenic primarily to natural, geogenic sources within the delta’s Holocene sediments, not to the Farakka Barrage itself. But many Bangladeshi hydrologists and public health researchers argue, credibly, that reduced Ganges flow and the resulting over-reliance on groundwater pumping act as an accelerant — turning a latent geological hazard into an active public health catastrophe. Whatever the precise weighting of causes, the outcome is not in dispute: Bangladesh is living through what the World Health Organization has called the largest mass poisoning of a population in history. The economic toll is staggering and measurable. Studies estimate that arsenic contamination has reduced Bangladesh’s effective rural labor supply by roughly 8 percent — a contraction larger than the labor-market shock the United States experienced during the Great Recession. Projections suggest arsenic-related mortality and morbidity could cost the economy up to $13 billion over twenty years in lost productivity alone. Millions of person-days are lost annually to arsenicosis, and the neurotoxic effects on children threaten the cognitive development of the next generation — a bottleneck on Bangladesh’s long-term growth prospects. Contaminated irrigation water enters the food chain, straining agricultural yields and export credibility. At the household level, families spend hundreds of millions of taka annually on treatment, exhausting savings and pushing the rural poor deeper into poverty. Visible skin lesions bring social stigma, job loss, and marginalization, particularly for women. This is not an abstract environmental dispute; it is a slow-moving national emergency with a very real balance sheet. This debate does not exist in isolation. It sits alongside Bangladesh’s long-stalled push for a Teesta River sharing agreement, another dispute where upstream control and India’s domestic politics — particularly in West Bengal — have repeatedly delayed progress. Dhaka has made clear that a fair, long-term renewal of the Ganges pact is now central to the broader trajectory of India-Bangladesh relations. The two issues are linked in substance as much as in diplomacy: both test whether the region can move from a “mercantile” approach to shared rivers, in which every cusec is treated as a zero-sum resource to be captured upstream, toward an approach that treats water as a shared trust with obligations that flow downstream as well as up. Given this, the renewal of the Ganges Treaty must do more than reallocate cusecs. It must treat adequate, dependable freshwater flow as a public health intervention, not merely an irrigation input. Diluting arsenic concentrations in shallow aquifers, sustaining natural flushing, and reducing pressure to over-pump groundwater all depend on Bangladesh receiving a demonstrably larger and more reliable share of dry-season Ganges flow than the 1996 formula allows. Given the scale of what’s at stake — public health, food security, and the credibility of a 175-million-person delta nation’s future — this renewal should not be negotiated behind closed doors on India’s terms alone. Bangladesh should press for the process to include independent, internationally recognized water and public health experts, convened under UN auspices, to assess minimum flow requirements against verifiable arsenic, salinity, and agricultural data. This is not a call to internationalize a bilateral treaty in perpetuity; it is a call for technical objectivity in setting the numbers that will govern Bangladesh’s water security for the next generation. India, for its part, has its own legitimate claims — competing agricultural demand in West Bengal, and domestic

South Korea is one of the most remarkable countries in the world. Shortly after the mid-20th century, South Korea was one of the poorest countries in the world. According to World Bank, it had a per-capita gross domestic product (GDP) of roughly 159 USD in 1960. The Helen Kellogg Institute For International Studies (University of Notre Dame) points out that South Korea’s per-capita income in early 1960 was lower than Haiti, Ethiopia and Yemen and over 40% of the South Korea’s population was suffering from absolute poverty. However, with right public policy actions implemented in the right direction, South Korea was among the most rapidly growing economies in the world by the start of 21st century. Do you know that South Korea had exponentially increased its per-capita GDP to 12,710 USD (in 2000) that then sky-rocketed to over USD 36000 in 2025? A question that one would ask is, what formed the basis of this rapid economic growth and a resulting reduction in poverty in South Korea? A World Bank report “Republic of Korea: Four decades of equitable growth” points out that South Korea has experienced rapid economic growth in 1990, where its real GDP grew by over 5 percent each year except 1998. Absolute poverty decreased incredibly in South Korea during 1975 – 2001. Those who remained poor were either had low educational achievements or were unemployed or underemployed. In 1975, South Korea earned USD 12.4 billion through trade that then skyrocketed to a trade volume of USD 314.6 billion in 2002. Thus, in a span of 27 years, trade volume of South Korea increased over 25 times which is nothing less than a remarkable success story. A journey that helped South Korea to achieve rags-to-riches status in 3 decades time. In my opinion, education made a significant difference in South Korean society and made it more socially resilient to meet the challenges of today and tomorrow. As we all know that with education and the use of common sense, we make better life choices that then helps us is attaining better results for us and our families. Do you know that South Korean society is one of the most educated societies in the world? As per Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), over 58% of masses in South Korea has tertiary education. In-fact, South Korea performed better than Luxembourg, Australia, Norway, Netherlands and several other countries when it comes to percentage of masses (25 – 64 years) who have completed tertiary education in 2025. Highly educated masses mean highly qualified labour that can help any country in commencing sustainable social and economic development over a sustained period. We all are familiar with Samsung Electronics and the leading role it plays in connecting countries and people across the globe. Do you know that Samsung Electronics is a South Korean company? In 2025, Samsung Electronics declared a revenue worth a whooping USD 233.3 billion. Similarly, Hyundai Motor Co., Ltd is another South Korean motor vehicles and parts manufacturing company. According to Forbes, in 2025, Hyundai Motor Co., Ltd declared a financial revenue worth a whooping USD 128.4 billion including a profit of USD 9.1 billion. Hyundai Motor Company pointed out that it sold over 4 million vehicles worldwide out of which close to a million vehicles were electrified vehicles. Likewise, Kia Corporation is South Korea’s oldest motor vehicles manufacturing company and has a capacity to produce over 1.4 million vehicles each year. Kia Corporation has over 40,000 employees and normally reports an annual revenue of over USD 17 billion each year.  LG Electronics is another South Korean tech giant that reported a revenue of USD 62 billion in 2025. Finally, SK Hynix Inc is another South Korean company that manufactures semiconductor products and had reported an annual revenue of USD 51.2 billion in 2025 with profits over USD 18 billion. It is crucial to mention here that SK Hynix Inc is among the largest memory chip manufacturer’s in the world and acts as a rival to Samsung. Moreover, it is an important memory supplier to Apple and the components supplied by SK Hynix Inc are widely used in iPhone, iPad and MacBooks. Carnegie Endowment for International Peace reports that South Korea’s gross domestic product (GDP) was USD 1.71 trillion in 2023 and its per-capita GDP was USD 33,121. Do you know that in 2020, South Korea invested USD 112.9 billion on domestic research and development (R&D). Globally, it stood on fifth position when it comes to spending on R&D. Top spending on R&D in 2020 was commenced by United States with USD 720.9 billion, followed by China with USD 582.8 billion, Japan with USD 174.1 billion and Germany with USD 143.4 billion. Despite commencing rapid social and economic development, South Korea has not compromised on environmental conservation. According to The Korea Times newspaper, South Korea planted roughly 10 billion trees from 1960 to 1980. As a direct result of this, Korea Forest Service (KFS) reported that South Korea’s forest growth rate exponentially increased from 50 cubic meters per hectare in 1990 to 148 cubic meters per hectare in 2015. Thus, in a span of 25 years, forests in South Korea observed nearly 3 times increase in growth rate. It serves as an excellent example that we can commence economic growth, eradicate absolute poverty and conserve environment simultaneously. The already discussed example shatters the paradigm that we must compromise and degrade environment to commence economic growth. A successful reforestation program in South Korea proves the fact that we can commence economic growth and protect environment simultaneously. Do you know that trees are the most inexpensive carbon capture and storage devices? Moreover, healthy forests help us to decrease the concentration of carbon dioxide gas in atmosphere, mitigate climate change, prevent biodiversity loss, avoid landslides and provide clean air and water by decreasing pollution. We must understand this basic fact that for our commenced economic growth to be sustainable, we must preserve and protect environment. In-fact, Sustainable Development has 3 pillars