Pakistan deserves better, Call for responsible gov…

Artificial Intelligence is transforming the world at an unprecedented pace. From healthcare and agriculture to finance, education, and manufacturing, AI is changing how people work, learn, and solve problems. Countries across the globe are redesigning their education systems to prepare students for a technology-driven future. They are investing in coding, robotics, digital literacy, critical thinking, and innovation. Outdated Curriculum, Untrained Teachers, and Obsolete Classrooms Are Holding Back the Nation’s Future Pakistan, however, appears to be moving at a much slower pace. While developed nations are preparing children for careers that may not even exist today, millions of Pakistani students continue to study from outdated textbooks, rely on rote memorization, and learn in classrooms equipped with little more than blackboards and chalk. This growing disconnect raises an important question: How can Pakistan expect its youth to compete globally when they are being educated with a curriculum designed for the past? Education is the engine of economic growth and national development. Every successful nation has built its progress on a strong education system that evolves with changing times. Unfortunately, Pakistan’s school curriculum has not kept pace with technological advancement or the demands of the modern labour market. Although some reforms have been introduced over the years, many textbooks still contain outdated examples, obsolete concepts, and teaching methods that fail to develop analytical thinking and creativity. The world no longer rewards students simply for memorizing information. Search engines and AI can provide facts within seconds. What employers increasingly value are skills that machines cannot easily replace critical thinking, creativity, communication, collaboration, leadership, emotional intelligence, and the ability to solve complex problems. Yet our examination system still rewards memorization more than understanding. One of the biggest weaknesses of Pakistan’s education system is the gap between classroom learning and market needs. Universities and employers frequently complain that graduates lack practical knowledge and workplace skills. Many young people spend years earning degrees only to discover they are not prepared for modern careers. This mismatch contributes to unemployment despite rising educational qualifications. School curricula should therefore be redesigned around future skills. Coding, artificial intelligence, robotics, data literacy, entrepreneurship, financial education, climate science, environmental sustainability, cybersecurity, and digital citizenship should become part of mainstream education. These are no longer luxury subjects reserved for elite schools; they are becoming basic requirements for the global economy. Equally important is the way children are taught. Modern education encourages students to ask questions, conduct experiments, work in teams, debate ideas, and solve real-life problems. Unfortunately, many Pakistani classrooms continue to rely on one-way lectures where students quietly copy notes from the blackboard. Such methods may help children pass examinations, but they do little to prepare them for innovation or leadership. This is why teacher training deserves urgent national attention. Teachers cannot be expected to teach twenty-first-century skills using twentieth-century training. Continuous professional development should become mandatory for all teachers. They should receive regular training in digital learning, classroom technology, student-centred teaching, project-based learning, and modern assessment methods. A well-trained teacher can transform even a modest classroom, while an untrained teacher may struggle despite having excellent textbooks. Technology must also become an integral part of learning. Around the world, interactive digital boards, multimedia presentations, educational software, virtual laboratories, and online learning platforms are making classrooms more engaging and effective. In contrast, many government schools in Pakistan still depend on blackboards, chalk, and outdated teaching aids. There is nothing inherently wrong with blackboards they have educated generations of students. However, they cannot be the only teaching tool in an era when digital technology dominates every profession. Students who have never interacted with computers, digital content, or smart classrooms are already at a disadvantage before they enter higher education or the job market. Modernizing classrooms does not necessarily require replacing every blackboard overnight. Pakistan can adopt a phased approach. Schools should first be provided with reliable electricity, internet connectivity where possible, projectors, computers, and digital learning resources. Low-cost technology can significantly improve learning outcomes if combined with trained teachers and updated curricula. Education must also become more relevant to Pakistan’s own challenges. Students should learn about water scarcity, climate change, renewable energy, sustainable agriculture, disaster management, public health, financial planning, and responsible citizenship. Such knowledge not only strengthens the economy but also helps communities solve local problems. The government must increase investment in education. For many years, Pakistan has allocated a relatively small share of its national resources to education compared with what experts recommend for developing countries. Without sustained investment in schools, teacher development, educational technology, and curriculum reform, meaningful progress will remain difficult. Parents, educators, policymakers, universities, and the private sector all have a role to play. Education should not be shaped solely by examination boards. Industry leaders, technology experts, researchers, and experienced teachers should contribute to curriculum development so that what children learn reflects the realities of today’s world. Pakistan’s greatest resource is not its minerals or natural wealth, it is its young population. Millions of talented children possess the intelligence, curiosity, and determination to succeed. What they need is an education system that unlocks their potential instead of limiting it. Artificial Intelligence will reshape every sector of society during the coming decades. Countries that prepare their children today will lead tomorrow’s global economy. Those that continue teaching outdated syllabi will struggle to keep pace. The choice before Pakistan is clear. We can continue relying on obsolete textbooks, examination-driven learning, blackboards, and chalk while the rest of the world embraces AI and digital innovation. Or we can modernize our curriculum, invest in teachers, equip classrooms with appropriate technology, and prepare our children for the future. The future cannot be built with yesterday’s education. If Pakistan truly wants its youth to compete on the global stage, the time to reform our schools is not tomorrow it is today.

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

By Latif Tunio Imagine two people standing outside a bakery. One has not eaten since yesterday. The other has already had breakfast but buys every loaf on the shelf because nobody else should have one. The first person is hungry. The second is greedy. That is the difference we often forget. Human needs are surprisingly small. We need food, shelter, safety, affection and dignity. Yet somewhere along the road to modern civilization, our desires stopped listening to our needs. We no longer ask, “Do I need this?” We ask, “Will people notice if I don’t have it?” Perhaps that is why we live in an age where skyscrapers grow taller while patience grows shorter. Greed is not new. Kings fought wars for gold centuries ago. Empires swallowed nations for spices, land and power. But today greed wears expensive perfume, carries a smartphone and speaks the language of success. It no longer hides in dark corners; sometimes it sits on television panels giving motivational speeches. A hundred years ago, a respected person was often remembered for honesty, wisdom or service to the community. Today, many people first ask, “What car does he drive?” or “How much is she worth?” Character has quietly been replaced by price tags.Social media has made this worse. Every morning millions of people wake up and immediately begin comparing their ordinary lives with someone else’s carefully edited highlights. One person posts a luxury vacation. Another uploads a new phone. Someone else announces another achievement. Nobody uploads sleepless nights, unpaid bills or family arguments. We compare our behind-the-scenes life with everyone else’s movie trailer.Then we wonder why we feel poor. The market has discovered something dangerous: making people dissatisfied is excellent for business. If people become content, who will buy the next upgrade Advertisements rarely sell products anymore. They sell insecurity. Frankly They whisper, “You are incomplete without this watch.” “You are unsuccessful without this car.” “You are unattractive without this cream.” Apparently even happiness now comes with monthly installments. Yet greed is not always born from vanity. Sometimes it grows out of fear. A father worried about rising school fees saves every rupee he can. A mother fears another economic crisis. A young graduate sees unemployment everywhere and begins believing that only endless money can guarantee safety. Fear slowly changes saving into hoarding, and caution into obsession. There is an old saying often attributed to Mahatma Gandhi: “The Earth provides enough for everyone’s need, but not everyone’s greed.” The tragedy is that many people no longer know where need ends and greed begins. Another reason is that we have quietly lost the art of contentment. Previous generations owned fewer things but often worried less about owning more. Today many people possess wardrobes full of clothes while insisting they have “nothing to wear.” We buy bigger houses only to spend less time inside them. We own faster internet but have slower conversations. Modern life keeps promising that the next purchase will finally complete us. It never does. Greed also flourishes where justice is weak. When honest people struggle while corrupt people become celebrities, society learns a dangerous lesson. Bribes become “connections.” Fraud becomes “smartness.” Tax evasion becomes “good business.” Before long, honesty begins looking like a financial disability. The message becomes painfully simple: if cheating pays and integrity suffers, why remain honest? This is how corruption stops being an individual crime and becomes a social culture. The damage reaches far beyond bank accounts. Families break apart over inheritance before the funeral flowers have even dried. Lifelong friendships disappear over business deals. Brothers become strangers because land suddenly becomes more valuable than blood. Perhaps the saddest part is that greedy people rarely enjoy what they collect. They spend years protecting possessions they never truly have time to use. They own everything except peace. Nature also pays the bill. Forests disappear because cutting trees is profitable today, even if floods arrive tomorrow. Rivers become sewers because treating waste reduces corporate profits. Mountains are blasted apart, oceans filled with plastic and clean air sold back to us in expensive machines. Humanity has become astonishingly efficient at converting tomorrow’s disasters into today’s profits. Can greed be reduced? Not by preaching alone. Children should learn that success includes honesty, kindness and responsibility—not only salaries. Schools should celebrate integrity as loudly as achievement. Families should teach gratitude before ambition. We also need digital wisdom: learning that a perfect life on a screen is often nothing more than excellent lighting and careful editing. Governments have responsibilities too. Laws must punish corruption without asking whether the offender is rich, famous or politically connected. Justice loses its meaning when it becomes negotiable. Above all, we need to rediscover contentment—not laziness, but the wisdom of knowing when enough is truly enough. A society does not become civilized because it builds taller buildings or produces richer billionaires. It becomes civilized when people can trust one another, when honesty is rewarded instead of mocked, and when success does not require sacrificing conscience. The greatest poverty in the twenty-first century may not be empty pockets. It may be full wallets attached to empty hearts. The writer is a Social activist. He can be reached at tunio.latif786@gmail.com

Pakistan stands as a living testament to an enduring spiritual and ideological conviction. From its very inception, the rallying cry that unified millions were both simple and profound: “What does Pakistan mean? La ilaha illallah.” Under this banner of faith in the Oneness of Allah, the nation emerged on the world map in 14 August 1947, as a homeland for Muslims of the Subcontinent, guided by the vision of Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah and the philosophical foresight of Allama Iqbal. It was not merely a political endeavour but the realisation of a distinct national identity rooted in Islamic ideals of justice, sovereignty, and unity. Yet the path was fraught with peril. Even before the new state could draw breath, formidable obstacles arose—economic collapse, mass migrations, and external scepticism. Many predicted that its borders would soon dissolve under pressure, but divine will ordained otherwise. Like a ship battling turbulent seas, Pakistan endured and reached the shores of stability through resilience and faith. As the country gained its footing, a landmark gathering in Lahore in February 1974 marked a turning point. The Second Islamic Summit Conference brought together leaders from 38 Muslim nations, including King Faisal of Saudi Arabia, Anwar Sadat of Egypt, and Muammar Gaddafi. Hosted by Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, this assembly transformed individual aspirations into collective strength. Muslims, like fingers joining to form a mighty fist, stood united on a common platform. The summit addressed the aftermath of the 1973 Arab-Israeli war, supported Palestinian and Arab causes, and elevated Pakistan’s stature as a bridge among Islamic nations. From this unity flowed a shared mission that propelled the country forward. Throughout its history, Pakistan has answered calls for global security and the stability of the Islamic world. It earned the honourable distinction of the Fortress of Islam, particularly through its longstanding commitment to safeguarding the Haramain Sharifain. Pakistani troops have served in Saudi Arabia since the 1970s, with deployments in training, advisory, and protective roles—often numbering over 10,000 at peaks, including during the 1990-91 Gulf War. This sacred duty reflects not mere strategy but a religious obligation deeply felt by the nation.  Adversaries, notably neighbouring India, seized every opportunity to portray Pakistan as a failing state. Yet at moments of trial, unseen help arrived. In May 2025, Pakistan demonstrated military prowess that astonished observers, restoring its lost prestige through resolute leadership that honoured the divine trust placed upon it. A landmark Strategic Mutual Defence Agreement with Saudi Arabia, signed on 17 September 2025 in Riyadh by Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, formalised decades of brotherhood. This pact declares that any aggression against one is an aggression against both, encompassing comprehensive cooperation in defence, training, technology, and joint deterrence. Reports suggest potential deployment of up to thousands of Pakistani personnel and assets, including JF-17 aircraft, underscoring Pakistan’s role as a steadfast guardian.  Building upon this success, Pakistan has played a constructive mediating role in Gulf tensions, earning widespread appreciation for its balanced diplomacy. Cooperation with Turkey has deepened through bilateral deals in defence and trade, while Kuwait and other regional states have expressed interest in similar partnerships. Pakistan’s armed forces, with approximately 650,000–685,000 active personnel—one of the world’s largest standing armies—alongside an estimated hundreds of nuclear warheads and modern platforms like JF-17 fighters and advanced missiles, provide credible strength to these endeavours.  Looking to the future, Pakistan’s perspective remains one of hope anchored in unity and good intentions. The day is not distant when an alliance of Islamic countries, forged through mutual respect and shared values, may emerge—bearing precedents in the European Union or NATO yet rooted firmly in Islamic principles of solidarity. Such a framework would face formidable obstacles: historical differences, external influences, and economic disparities. Yet with the spirit that carried Pakistan through partition, the 1971 trials, and recent triumphs, it remains achievable. Pakistan, with its strategic location, military capability, and diplomatic bridges—linking South Asia, the Gulf, and beyond—can serve as a pivotal node in this vision. It continues to champion economic cooperation within the OIC, advocate for peace with justice on issues like Palestine and Kashmir, and promote connectivity that benefits the wider ummah. Pakistan’s journey, from ideological birth to its current resurgence, exemplifies faith sustained against the odds. As it advances, the nation carries not only the aspirations of its 250 million people but the hopes of many who see in its endurance a beacon for the Muslim world. With trust in Allah, unity among its ranks, and steadfast resolve, Pakistan is poised to fulfil a greater role in fostering stability, prosperity, and brotherhood across Islamic lands. The future beckons with challenge and opportunity alike; guided by its founding principles, the nation shall meet both with honour.

When studying the rise and fall of civilizations, an unyielding truth emerges: nations are shaped not by material wealth or vast geography, but by the intellectual vitality of their institutions. When an educational system loses its soul, and universities become mere factories for paper credentials, the collective vision of an entire society falls into a colonial illusion. Pakistan’s contemporary higher education landscape bears out this bitter reality. For decades, our public universities have remained bound to an archaic, bureaucratic framework forged under nineteenth-century colonial imperatives. Designed to cultivate compliance rather than critical thought, this apparatus has produced storehouses of financial distress, administrative stagnation, political interference, and repetitive, sterile theses generated solely for promotion. Where fearless intellectual discourse should thrive, there settles instead the suffocating dust of sycophancy. Research has ceased to be an endeavor to solve society’s pressing crises, reduced instead to filling journal pages to tick administrative boxes. Yet within the deep shadows of this stagnation—where despair threatens every horizon—the sudden appearance of an institution where the austere mountain winds shelter the burning torches of intellect, resolve, and scientific courage transforms from an institutional victory into an intellectual miracle. Cradled by the towering pines of Murree, Kohsar University, steered by the visionary and globally acclaimed leadership of its Vice Chancellor, Professor Dr. Rafia Mumtaz, stands as a brilliant embodiment of this living reality. The trajectory of any institution is invariably determined by the intellectual breadth and moral courage of its leadership. Professor Dr. Rafia Mumtaz’s academic journey serves as a luminous testament to the fact that when learning transcends rote recitation and is forged in the crucible of international standards, it possesses the power to alter a region’s destiny. From the advanced technological ecosystem of NUST to a rigorous Ph.D. and post-doctoral research tenure at the University of Surrey in the United Kingdom, her trajectory ensures that her framework remains untouched by the narrow confines of conventional university systems. Instead, it is thoroughly attuned to cutting-edge scientific paradigms and the demands of global academia. When a scholar steeped in artificial intelligence, the Internet of Things, data analytics, and modern digital architecture assumes the leadership of a nascent university, she shatters the slow, sclerotic barriers of red tape with a single stroke, transforming the institution from a sluggish office into a dynamic, antifragile intellectual unit. Kohsar University’s initial tragedy lay in its location within a complex terrain where tourism, mountain ecology, and severe winters impose heavy administrative demands. Yet through seasoned judgment, Dr. Rafia Mumtaz converted this geographical limitation into her greatest asset. She established the profound truth that sincerity of intent and granite-like resolve can shatter metropolitan monopolies, erecting towering beacons of learning in remote mountain tracts whose radiance illuminates the entire national academic sphere. The foundational flaw of Pakistan’s public universities has always been the disconnect between curricula and grassroots economic realities. Conventional institutions have rarely bothered to align their structures with shifting market demands. Kohsar University has initiated a quiet, resolute awakening against this obsolete tradition. Here, disciplines such as Tourism, Hospitality, Forestry, and Environmental Sciences are not treated as static textbook chapters; they are integrated directly into national policy formulation, rigorous fieldwork, and sustainable development models. As a newly established public university, the institution has confronted severe financial constraints, leading to unavoidable delays in expanding modern computer laboratories. Yet these structural hurdles never impeded its overarching resolve. In April 2026, leveraging its routine development planning and extremely limited resources, the university successfully procured advanced computer systems, upgraded its laboratories, and opened new frontiers for empirical scientific research. Within a remarkably brief span, Kohsar University’s Computer Science students delivered an exceptional performance at the prestigious PINTECH Expo, competing against more than 75 renowned universities across Punjab during the 2023 and 2025 exhibitions to secure the runner-up position. This is undeniable proof that a nascent, resource-deprived public university possesses the fierce capability to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the country’s premier institutions. In the same vein of triumph, students excelled across competitive programs of the Prime Minister’s Youth Initiative, engaged with Stanford-associated online training frameworks, and claimed top honors in provincial academic competitions. Behind these crowning achievements lie no bloated budgets, but sheer grit, towering vision, and the unyielding talent of regional youth. Muree and its surrounding landscapes presently stand at a perilous crossroads regarding climate change. Faced with melting glaciers, unchecked tourism, and rapid deforestation, Kohsar University engineered an immediate, proactive response. It activated its research networks, shifting students and researchers away from the desolation of conventional job-hunting toward the creation of practical scientific projects aimed at steering the local economy toward digital and eco-friendly paths. This transformation signals that education has reclaimed its status as humanity’s primary instrument for survival. These triumphs give rise to an urgent question: if a brand-new university can achieve such rapid feats amidst profound scarcity, what heights could its research capacity reach with adequate governmental patronage? Emerging universities in Punjab should no longer be viewed as financial liabilities; rather, they must be recognized as vital engines driving regional development and digital economies. For thousands of brilliant, underprivileged young minds across Murree, Kohsar University represents their sole, robust gateway to quality higher education. Materially and financially strengthening this institution is synonymous with empowering an entire region. The pulsing heart of this intellectual flight is Kohsar University’s state-of-the-art Computer Science Department and its high-tech computer laboratories, outfitted to meet uncompromising international standards. In twenty-first-century global communications, digital infrastructure serves as the central nervous system of any academic enterprise. Dr. Rafia Mumtaz’s scientific background and technical mastery have successfully converted this department into a cutting-edge incubation hub. When students within these mist-veiled heights sit before screens to master complex algorithms, IoT systems, cloud computing, and software development, the sight heralds a new dawn: Pakistan’s bright digital future shines with equal brilliance from these majestic mountain peaks. These laboratories stand as indisputable evidence that when scarcity is met with transparent priorities and unwavering resolve, world-class institutions capable of competing globally can be born despite meager state

The recently published PRIME Plus report, An Assessment of the FY2026–27 Federal Budget Through the Lens of Economic Freedom, deserves appreciation for shifting the debate beyond conventional budget arithmetic. Rather than asking merely whether taxes have increased or decreased, it examines whether the budget enlarges or restricts the freedom of individuals and businesses to produce, invest, trade and innovate. That alone makes it a valuable contribution to Pakistan’s policy discourse. The report of Policy Research Institute of Market Economy (PRIME) correctly observes that Pakistan’s formal economy bears a disproportionate tax burden while much of the informal sector remains outside the effective tax net. It questions tax expenditures exceeding Rs 2.35 trillion, highlights the crowding out of private investment by government borrowing, welcomes tariff rationalisation and criticises regulatory uncertainty. These issues deserve much wider public attention. PRIME’s analysis also points towards a deeper weakness in Pakistan’s reform discourse: we discuss economic freedom without first securing constitutional governance. The distinction is fundamental. International indices commonly measure economic freedom through taxation, trade openness, government spending, financial markets and regulatory efficiency. These indicators matter. Lower barriers to enterprise can promote investment, innovation and competition. They answer only part of the question. Why do countries with similar tax rates produce very different economic outcomes? Why do investors accept higher taxation in some jurisdictions while avoiding countries with lighter tax burdens? Why do some economies flourish with relatively large governments while others stagnate despite repeated concessions? The answer lies primarily in institutions. James Buchanan argued that public finance cannot be analysed independently of the constitutional rules under which governments operate. Douglass North demonstrated that long-term development depends upon institutions that reduce uncertainty, enforce contracts and create predictable incentives. Centuries earlier, Ibn Khaldun linked prosperity with justice, moderation in taxation and restraint upon arbitrary power. Excessive intervention, unpredictable fiscal demands and rent-seeking, he observed, ultimately weaken both economic activity and state revenues. These intellectual traditions converge on one central proposition: economic freedom is not created simply by lowering tax rates. It emerges from constitutional governance. Pakistan’s experience illustrates this clearly. Successive governments have offered tax holidays, created special economic zones, reduced customs duties and announced investment facilitation mechanisms. Investment nevertheless remains subdued. Investors do not merely compare tax rates; they compare legal systems. They ask whether contracts will be enforced within a reasonable time, whether regulations will survive political transitions, whether tax liabilities can be altered retrospectively and whether executive discretion outweighs parliamentary certainty. These are questions of constitutional governance rather than fiscal engineering. The same principle applies to taxation. Pakistan’s problem is frequently described as one of high taxation. That diagnosis is incomplete. The deeper problem is unequal taxation. The salaried class in formal sector is fully documented, its tax is deducted before income reaches employees, and its compliance burden continues to rise. Large segments of commerce, services and agriculture operate under very different fiscal realities. The issue is not merely how much tax is collected, but whether equal citizens are governed by equal fiscal rules. A system built around withholding taxes, presumptive taxes, minimum taxes and sector-specific exemptions creates unequal citizenship before the law. It also encourages informality. Businesses do not remain undocumented only because rates are high. Formal participation imposes greater compliance costs while offering few institutional benefits. Documentation without trust becomes compulsion rather than reform. The PRIME report also notes that government borrowing crowds out private investment because banks prefer sovereign lending over commercial risk. This is not simply a banking failure. When governments repeatedly finance deficits through domestic borrowing, banks act rationally by purchasing government securities. Financial markets are responding to distorted fiscal incentives created by public policy. Interest payments and defence together consume nearly 94 percent of net federal revenue, leaving little fiscal space for education, healthcare, scientific research, digital infrastructure, justice administration and productive public investment. The challenge is not merely that government spends too much; it is that public priorities have become distorted. Expenditure that strengthens courts, education, digital infrastructure, research, public health and efficient regulation expands future economic freedom because it reduces uncertainty and lowers transaction costs. Spending absorbed by debt servicing and institutional inefficiency does not. Constitutional Political Economy therefore distinguishes between the size of government and the quality of government. Fiscal federalism is another neglected dimension. The Constitution (Eighteenth Amendment) Act, 2010 reshaped the distribution of fiscal powers. Provincial sales taxes, fragmented administrations and overlapping jurisdictions now influence business decisions daily. Economic freedom cannot be assessed through the federal budget alone. The constitutional structure governing taxation matters as much as the annual Finance Act itself. Pakistan’s economic challenge is consequently larger than budget reform. Markets flourish where laws are predictable, taxation is neutral, contracts are enforceable, property rights are secure and governments remain subject to constitutional restraints. These conditions cannot be created through a single Finance Act. They require a durable commitment to constitutional governance. The value of the PRIME report lies in encouraging this broader conversation. The next step is to recognise that economic freedom rests upon a stronger constitutional foundation. Where constitutional governance is weak, economic reforms remain temporary. Where it is strong, markets can generate prosperity without constant discretionary intervention. Pakistan’s recurring fiscal crises are symptoms rather than the disease. The underlying ailment is institutional. Budgets can redistribute resources, but only constitutional governance can establish equality before law, predictable taxation, secure property rights and meaningful limits on arbitrary state power. Economic freedom, therefore, is neither the starting point of development nor a concession to be distributed through annual Finance Acts. It is the outcome of a constitutional order in which taxation rests on representation, public borrowing is subject to accountability, contracts and property are protected, and executive power remains bounded by law. In a rent-distributing state, freedom is rationed through exemptions, influence and discretion; in a constitutional state, it is secured for all through equal rules. Unless Pakistan reforms the institutions that determine who is taxed, how public money is spent, who bears the cost of debt and how state power is