mirage fragmentation territorial

The Mirage of Fragmentation: Territorial Redrawing…

A familiar and recurring phantom is once again haunting the political and intellectual horizon of Pakistan: the clamor for administrative redistribution and the carving out of new provinces. Whenever structural collapse, economic decay, and institutional governance reach their absolute nadir, the sanctums of power and the opaque enclaves of the establishment begin to chant a singular, predictable refrain. The root of all systemic malady, we are told, lies in the sheer geographical expanse of our existing provinces, and the ultimate panacea is the relentless division of the state. When one scrutinizes the subterranean motives, logical contradictions, and political expediencies governing this discourse, an uncomfortable truth starkly emerges. This persistent endeavor to shift the blame for chronic misgovernance and policy failure onto geographical boundaries, cultural entities, and ethnic identities is merely a resurrection of a time-worn colonial playbook—a deliberate diversion designed to distract the citizenry from real structural grievances while consolidating the apparatus of absolute control. History bears poignant witness to the reality that whenever ruling elites fail to mask their administrative ineptitude, systemic incompetence, and constitutional deviations, they seek refuge behind the seductive mirage of better governance, transforming the republic into an endless laboratory of reckless experimentation. One is compelled to ask: does any sound mind truly accept the medical wisdom of amputating a limb simply because a malignant ulcer has taken root in the arm? Are the pathologies of governance so superficial that merely redrawing cartographic lines will spontaneously engender distributive justice, institutional merit, the rule of law, and administrative transparency?
A careful, unvarnished reading of pre-partition South Asian history reveals that this formula of administrative fragmentation was never a native or democratic innovation. Rather, it was a tested and ruthless instrument of British imperialism, rooted entirely in the cynical philosophy of “Divide and Rule.” In October 1905, when Lord Curzon partitioned the sprawling province of Bengal under the alluring and deceptive banner of administrative efficiency, improved governance, and better public service delivery, the official justification was identical to today’s rhetoric: that managing such a vast demographic mass from a single center was untenable. Yet history dealt a merciless blow to that colonial experiment. The people of Bengal rightly perceived the partition as a direct, existential assault on their linguistic, cultural, and political integrity, rising in fierce and unyielding resistance. Ultimately, the imperial master was forced into an ignominious retreat, revoking the partition of Bengal in 1911. That historical episode remains an enduring monument and a stark warning to contemporary rulers who imagine they can trifle with the collective historical memory, cultural affinity, and geographical unity of a populace under the intoxicating influence of unchecked power.
From the very inception of Pakistan, the ruling classes consistently spurned the genuine principles of cooperative federalism, choosing instead to enshrine coercive and authoritarian centralism as the ultimate guarantee of their survival. During the formative decades of the republic, when the delicate question of distributing democratic rights among diverse constituent units arose, the dominant factions lacked the political maturity required for a pluralistic state. Instead, they forced all the western provinces and states into an unnatural straitjacket known as the “One Unit” scheme. That dark chapter of authoritarian engineering laid bare the callous indifference of the ruling elite toward the historical identities and rich diversity of the people, subjugating all societal bonds to the preservation of concentrated power. When that forced administrative edifice eventually fractured under the weight of unrelenting public resistance, the four-province federal structure was reluctantly conceded. Yet the true spirit of federalism was never allowed to breathe. The constitutional imperatives of provincial autonomy were systematically subverted, resources were inequitably distributed, and the unquenchable thirst for hegemony converted the federation into a fragile, crisis-ridden entity perpetually at war with its own constituent parts.
Renowned scholars and theorists of public administration and cooperative federalism universally agree that when any sub-national unit exceeds optimal parameters in territory and population, it inevitably succumbs to bureaucratic inertia and administrative paralysis. According to global academic consensus, effective public service delivery demands a balanced proportional equilibrium between geography and demography, ensuring that the writ of the state and essential services penetrate even the most peripheral districts. However, the high-performing federal democracies of the world—such as the United States, Canada, Australia, or Germany—do not achieve excellence in governance merely because their constituent units happen to be geographically compact. They succeed because they rigorously enforce the foundational principle of **Subsidiarity**, which dictates that governance decisions must always be executed at the lowest possible tier capable of addressing them, rather than being arrogated by a distant center or provincial capital. Conversely, the powerful elite who orchestrate policy from behind the veil in Pakistan remain profoundly detached from this philosophical prerequisite. The core issue here is not the mere physical size of a province; it is the centralization of coercive power, deep-seated fiscal distortions, and a bankrupt political intent. In a country like Pakistan, where provinces already depend abjectly on federal transfers through the National Finance Commission (NFC) Award, attempting to carve out new provinces without addressing the fundamentals of fiscal federalism will only exponentially multiply the economic burden. If one merely replicates provincial capitals, bloated cabinets, and superfluous administrative secretariats without dismantling the underlying corruption, nepotism, and systemic incompetence, the public will find no relief from their miseries. Instead, the state will be pushed deeper into fiscal insolvency and bureaucratic suffocation.
This brings us to the most fundamental and inescapable question: if four provinces were to be multiplied into eight, sixteen, or thirty-six administrative units tomorrow, would traditional political parties magically vanish? Would the actors occupying the corridors of power in these new provinces descend from another planet, or would they simply be the identical political dynasties and entrenched interest groups of the Pakistan Peoples Party, the Pakistan Muslim League, or Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf donning new nameplates? When the foundational structural architecture, the prevailing political culture, and the patronage networks of the elite remain utterly unaltered, how can the mere shifting of administrative borders dissolve the cancer of corruption, the culture of kickbacks, and the parasitic mindset of the ruling class? If ongoing decision-making within the existing four provinces is warped by unconstitutional interventions, hidden puppetry, and a brittle hybrid arrangement, will inflating the number of provinces to thirty-six spontaneously vaporize that deep state interference? Absolutely not. The dominant forces and extra-constitutional arbiters who guarantee this flawed and imposed status quo will simply extend their authoritarian tutelage across thirty-six provinces with renewed vigor. The core malady is not geography; it is the arrogant, anti-democratic pathology that permits individuals completely divorced from law, politics, and constitutionalism to dictate the destiny of the nation from behind closed doors. For seventy-five years, this institutional overreach has remained our primary structural pathology. Until one summons the moral courage to excise this fundamental root cause, you may manufacture fifty provinces or erect a hundred administrative units, but the downward spiral of governance and the cycle of systemic crises will never cease.
Students of history and political science are intimately familiar with the predictable trajectory of such artificial experiments. When these unnatural engineering feats inevitably crash, the architects of these maneuvers—intoxicated by their own omnipotence—inevitably shift the blame onto federalism itself, utilizing the resulting administrative chaos as a pretext to drag the republic backward toward a suffocating **unitary system** and naked authoritarianism. The ultimate subterranean objective of this endless fragmentation of provinces is to hollow out federalism from within, rendering it so structurally crippled and contradictory that an exhausted public eventually turns against provincial autonomy and the federal framework altogether, thereby handing the centralized security apparatus the ultimate excuse to seize total authority. Furthermore, when historically cohesive nations and cultural regions are fractured along arbitrary administrative lines, the overarching national identity is weakened, tearing asunder the delicate internal social fabric and cultural continuity of the state.
Therefore, the urgent imperative of our time is to liberate ourselves from this intellectual deception and confront a stark reality with unyielding courage: Pakistan’s existential crisis is not born of geographical dispersion, but of systemic opacity, the absence of political tolerance, and the subversion of constitutional supremacy. The dream of efficacious governance will remain an elusive chimera so long as we permit the guardians of power to treat the constitution as a disposable playbook and continuously uproot the socio-cultural fabric of the nation. The true remedy does not reside in the endless slicing and dicing of provinces, but in devolving genuine authority away from the secretariats of Islamabad and the provincial capitals and pushing it downward to local and district governments, precisely as mandated by **Article 140-A of the Constitution of Pakistan**. It requires absolute fidelity to the rule of law, the honoring of constitutional rights across all federating units, and an unwavering surrender to the collective will of the citizenry. If we continue to pander to the dangerous obsession of territorial balkanization simply to prolong authoritarian tenure, history will record a verdict from which the republic will find no redemption. True statecraft dictates that rather than sowing the poisonous seeds of geographical fractionalization, we must embrace collective institutional wisdom—because sustainable, high-caliber governance is never birthed through coercion or closed-room decrees, but through human dignity, distributive justice, and the living soul of authentic democracy.

Similar Posts

  • Why System Collapsed in Pakistan?

    These days, one phrase echoes throughout our country: “Pakistan’s system has collapsed.” If we translate the word collapse into plain, colloquial language, it means that our so-called system has completely broken down, gone to ruin, or become utterly dysfunctional. Therefore, the argument goes, the country now needs a new system. This, they claim, can only happen if, instead of the existing four provinces, Pakistan is reorganized into thirty or thirty-two new provinces. Such a restructuring, they believe, would push aside the traditional politicians and allow a new generation of political leaders to emerge. Otherwise, they warn, just as in India, there will be an uprising of the “cockroaches”—that is, the youth—which will force this collapsed, rotten system to surrender. At first glance, these words appear attractive and appealing. They express not only frustration and disgust with our current political situation but also offer hope to the younger generation, particularly Generation Z. It is as if they are saying: “Dear frustrated young people! We are opening the doors to your future. You will rise, dominate the scene, and sweep away all the debris of the past—that is, the traditional politicians—with the force of your determination and enthusiasm.” However, this humble writer sees, behind these beautiful words, not a bright future but the same worn-out and ugly mirage of the past. In reality, those who are truly responsible—the real culprits—cleverly distance themselves from blame, divert the attention of the youth toward others, and then present themselves as the young people’s sympathizers and supporters. In our poetry, it is through such tricks that the beloved murderer becomes an innocent beloved, and the criminal appears as the trusted confidant. But this humble writer calls it what it really is: “the thief making the loudest outcry.” Our national poet, Iqbal, once wrote: There is an outcry that Muslims have vanished from the world; We ask: Were true Muslims ever really present? In appearance you resemble Christians, in civilization the Hindus; These are the Muslims before whom even the Jews would feel ashamed. If, in today’s circumstances, you replace the word “Muslims” with “system,” the verses take on a striking new meaning: There is an outcry that the system has vanished from the country; We ask: Was there ever really a system to begin with? If we were to parody the remaining verses, they might be difficult for some to digest. Suffice it to say that those in power never truly allowed a genuine system to develop here. And whenever, after much struggle, some semblance of a system did emerge, there were always certain “respectable gentlemen” who seemed to have taken an invisible oath—or perhaps a vow of deliberate silence—that it must never be allowed to function. In the eyes of this humble writer, our system truly collapsed on 16 August 1946, when, under the guidance of the British establishment, the Direct Action Day was observed, reducing the foundations of any future system to rubble. From that point onward, the struggle was no longer for a functioning system but for personal rule. That struggle strangled democracy, human rights, liberty, and freedom, and instead built a grand highway of coercion and dictatorship. Anyone who dared to step off that path or disagree with it was labeled a traitor, an enemy of the nation, an Indian agent, or part of the so-called “Fitna-e-Hind” (the Indian conspiracy). These labels were then applied to whomever those in power wished. The first victim was Dr. Khan Sahib’s democratically elected provincial government in the North-West Frontier Province (now Khyber Pakhtunkhwa), which was dismissed within the very first week. Soon afterward, the same authoritarian mentality struck the government of Ayub Khuhro in Sindh. It was also decided that any cabinet member who failed to say “Yes, Sir” to the Governor-General would be considered dispensable. Once the founding generation established such principles of governance, why would later generations lag behind in following them? Thereafter, the race for personal power was inevitable. In the end, victory was bound to go to whoever possessed the greater force—whether the power of the stick or the gun. How could it be otherwise? If, instead of making the Constitution and the rule of law your source of authority, you rely on personal superiority, intimidation, prestige, and the power of office, then someone carrying a gun will inevitably dominate the throne of personal power. And once that happens, the cycle simply continues. It is a law of nature that the bigger fish eats the smaller fish. Muhammad Ali Jinnah, Liaquat Ali Khan, Ghulam Muhammad, and Iskander Mirza all played their respective roles. Later, when greater power confronted lesser power, the result was the rise of powerful military rulers such as Ayub Khan, Agha Yahya Khan, Zia-ul-Haq, Pervez Musharraf, Ashfaq Parvez Kayani, and Qamar Javed Bajwa. (To be continued)

  • Key Insights from the University of Oxford’s AI,…

    I recently completed the AI, Justice, and the Rule of Law course, developed by the Saïd Business School at the University of Oxford in collaboration with UNESCO. The course was designed to equip legal professionals, judges, policymakers, researchers and justice sector practitioners with a comprehensive understanding of how artificial intelligence is transforming legal systems and the administration of justice while safeguarding the rule of law. Artificial intelligence (AI) is no longer a future possibility but an integral part of modern justice systems. A UNESCO survey of judicial operators from 96 countries found that 44% already use AI in their daily work, while only 9% have received formal AI training. AI is already being used in courts across more than one hundred jurisdictions to support legal research, document review, transcription, translation, case management, document summarisation, and drafting assistance. However, AI should not be viewed as a single technology; rather, it should be understood in terms of the specific task it performs within the judicial process. This functional approach is essential because the legal implications of AI depend on where and how it is used. Different categories of AI create different opportunities and risks. Administrative AI is primarily used for case management, transcription, translation, and other routine functions that improve court efficiency. Research and analytical AI assists legal professionals in identifying relevant legislation, precedents, and legal principles. Decision-support AI helps analyse patterns and provide recommendations, while generative AI produces summaries, drafts legal documents, and generates text. Each category presents distinct legal, ethical, and governance challenges, requiring different levels of scrutiny and oversight. A central theme in the course was that AI should support judicial work rather than replace judicial decision-making. Judicial authority must always remain with human judges, who retain ultimate responsibility for interpreting the law and deciding cases. AI can assist by improving efficiency and providing analytical support, but it cannot substitute independent legal reasoning or judicial discretion. The principle of Human-in-the-Loop (HITL) is emphasized, under which meaningful human oversight remains essential whenever AI influences legal processes or outcomes. There are considerable opportunities AI presents for improving justice systems. AI can significantly accelerate legal research, improve case management, automate transcription and translation, summarise lengthy legal documents, and reduce the administrative workload of judges and court staff. By automating repetitive tasks, AI enables judges to devote more time to hearings, legal analysis, and reasoned decision-making. AI has the potential to improve access to justice by making legal services faster, more efficient, and more accessible. Alongside these benefits, there are risks associated with AI in the justice sector. Generative AI may produce hallucinated legal authorities, inaccurate citations, or misleading legal analysis. Algorithmic bias may reinforce existing inequalities, while automation bias can encourage users to place excessive trust in AI-generated outputs without independent verification. Other important concerns include the lack of transparency in ‘black box’ algorithms, risks to privacy and confidentiality, and the possibility that excessive reliance on AI may gradually erode the professional skills and independent judgment of legal practitioners. The responsible adoption of AI requires governance rather than simply introducing new technology. Effective implementation depends upon institutional AI policies, comprehensive risk and human rights impact assessments, pilot testing before deployment, continuous monitoring and evaluation, transparency, explainability, and accountability. The importance of multidisciplinary oversight involving judges, technologists, policymakers, and civil society to ensure that AI systems remain trustworthy and aligned with the principles of justice and the rule of law. Another important aspect of the role of AI is in promoting access to justice. AI-powered legal assistants can help self-represented litigants understand legal procedures, prepare legal documents, translate court materials into different languages, and support mediation and dispute resolution processes. These applications have the potential to make legal information and services more accessible, particularly for individuals who face financial, linguistic, or geographical barriers in accessing justice. However, the ethical and professional responsibility always remains with human legal professionals. Regardless of how sophisticated AI systems become, judges remain accountable for their decisions, and lawyers remain responsible for the accuracy, quality, and integrity of their work. AI cannot replace professional ethics, judicial independence, impartiality, or the duty to provide transparent, reasoned, and legally sound judgments. Overall, AI should be viewed as a powerful judicial support tool rather than a judicial decision-maker. Its responsible use depends upon understanding the function of each AI system, maintaining meaningful human oversight, safeguarding fundamental rights, ensuring transparency and accountability, and adopting strong institutional governance so that technological innovation strengthens, rather than undermines, the rule of law.

  • The Gen Z and Its Vision of Pakistan

    Pakistan presents a distinct demographic profile in the 21st century. According to the Pakistan Bureau of Statistics and UNFPA, 64% of the population is under the age of 30, with a median age of 20.8 years. This structure situates Pakistan within the category of youth-majority states. Consequently, an analysis of contemporary Pakistan is inseparable from an analysis of Generation Z, defined as individuals born approximately between 1997 and 2012. This cohort is not a prospective entity. It constitutes the current labor force, consumer base, and increasingly, the primary agents of cultural and economic production. The characteristics of Pakistani Gen Z can be understood through three interrelated dimensions: adaptability, initiative, and connectivity. The first dimension is adaptability coupled with digital fluency. This generation represents the first cohort in Pakistan to mature entirely within a digital ecosystem. DataReportal’s 2026 report indicates 111 million internet users and 71.1 million social media users in Pakistan, with internet penetration at 48.5%. The primary mode of access remains mobile broadband, which has effectively decentralized information and opportunity. This environment has cultivated rapid skill acquisition. The ability to learn and deploy new tools is reflected in economic outcomes. Pakistan currently ranks 4th globally in freelance earnings on platforms such as Upwork and Fiverr. Estimated annual freelance exports exceed $400 million. This phenomenon, often termed “digital remittances,” enables participation in the global economy without physical migration. The geographic implications are significant: a software developer in Peshawar, a content creator in Multan, and a designer in Lahore operate within the same digital marketplace, competing on skill rather than location. The second dimension is initiative and entrepreneurial orientation. In response to structural constraints in traditional employment, Gen Z has demonstrated a marked propensity toward self-directed economic activity. Data from the State Bank of Pakistan indicates a rising proportion of SME financing directed to individuals under 35. This is manifested in the proliferation of micro-enterprises, including e-commerce ventures, content creation channels, and home-based businesses. The underlying logic is one of experimentation and iteration: initiate at a small scale, acquire feedback, and scale operations. Importantly, this trend is not confined to metropolitan areas. Digital platforms have reduced barriers to market entry for individuals in Gilgit, Quetta, and rural Sindh, enabling access to national and international consumers. A craftswoman in interior Sindh can, through social commerce, reach buyers in Karachi and Dubai. This represents a structural shift in how economic value is created and distributed. The third dimension is connectivity and civic awareness. Pakistani Gen Z is the most interconnected generation in the nation’s history. Multilingualism is normative, with Urdu, English, and regional languages such as Punjabi, Sindhi, Pashto, and Balochi used fluidly. This linguistic dexterity mirrors a broader cultural orientation that is simultaneously local and global. This connectivity correlates with heightened awareness of social and global issues. During the 2022 floods, youth networks coordinated relief, fundraising, and volunteer mobilization within hours, utilizing WhatsApp, Facebook, and other platforms. The same infrastructure is used for peer-to-peer learning, dissemination of job opportunities, and advocacy around public health and education. Surveys by Gallup Pakistan and various youth organizations indicate participation rates in volunteerism among 18-30 year olds are substantially higher than in previous cohorts. Beyond present attributes, it is critical to articulate the vision of Pakistan held by this generation. Based on available survey data, academic research, and observable behavior, three core elements emerge. The first element is a vision of inclusive economic participation. Gen Z conceptualizes economic contribution beyond formal employment. The priority is productivity, skill utilization, and value creation. Key sectors of engagement include information technology, freelancing, e-commerce, EdTech, AgriTech, and creative industries. There is also a measurable increase in female participation. PBS data indicates that women constitute approximately 30% of registered freelancers, reflecting both economic necessity and changing social norms. The overarching goal is to convert Pakistan’s demographic dividend into tangible economic output. The second element is a vision of competency-based development. This cohort places primacy on skills, portfolios, and demonstrable output over credentials alone. There is growing demand for vocational training, digital literacy, artificial intelligence tools, and communication competencies. The emerging model is decentralized: one individual acquires a skill and disseminates it within their network. This peer-learning architecture has the potential to address gaps in formal education through non-formal channels. The third element is a vision of contributory citizenship. Gen Z associates nation-building with direct action. This includes environmental initiatives such as tree plantation, public health campaigns such as blood donation, and educational outreach in underserved areas. The conception of patriotism is thus operationalized. It is expressed not only through symbolic observance on 14th August, but through sustained engagement in community development. The narrative of 1947 is understood as securing independence. The narrative of 2026, from this perspective, is about deploying that independence toward institutional and social strengthening. Pakistan’s strategic advantage lies in this human capital. The generation is characterized by adaptability, enterprise, and networked awareness. The realization of this potential is contingent on the alignment of opportunities in skills development, digital infrastructure, and platforms for civic engagement. The trajectory of Pakistan will be determined in classrooms, in digital workspaces, in small enterprises, and in the aggregate of individual decisions made by over 110 million young citizens. With continued emphasis on learning, collaboration, and productive engagement, Gen Z possesses the capacity to advance national development objectives. This is their Pakistan, and the process of building it is already underway.

  • Literature for Life: The Classics That Continue to…

    Every few months, someone declares that people no longer need literature. The argument usually sounds convincing enough. We live in a world of instant news, endless social media, podcasts, and artificial intelligence. Information arrives faster than ever before. Why spend days with a novel when an opinion can be delivered in mere seconds? Yet the strange thing is that the more information we have, the more relevant literature seems to become. Hand someone a novel written a century ago, and they might discover their own world reflected in its pages, including many of the same fears and uncertainties they face today. That is more than a coincidence. It is literature doing exactly what it has always done, peering beyond the moment in which it was written. Literature offers more than a compelling story and reminds us why it continues to resonate till date. Many admire literature for its alluring language and craft. Others value it for the evolutionary nature and futuristic tendencies. That’s the side this leans toward. Literature stays with us because it explains the world we’re still trying to make sense of. Every generation believes its experiences are unique. Pandemics feel unprecedented, propaganda seems like a modern invention and the world today evolves at a pace that feels unlike anything before it. Yet long before any of this dominated the headlines, writers had already imagined it, warned about it, or lived through versions of it themselves. Literature does not simply reflect its own era. It reaches far beyond it, exploring aspects of human nature that continue to surface despite changing circumstances. When COVID-19 hit in 2020, thousands of readers picked up a novel from 1947 and discovered echoes of the present. Albert Camus’s The Plague, set in the Algerian city of Oran, seemed to describe their own lives with strange precision; the empty streets, the panic-buying, the denial before the lockdowns, and that eerie numbness that emerged as the crisis dragged on. Camus never saw a pandemic like this coming. What he understood, decades before any of us lived through one, was how people respond when disruption takes hold. George Orwell did something similar, except his warning arrived even earlier. Nineteen Eighty-Four gave us words we now use so casually and forget they came from fiction: surveillance, doublethink, thoughtcrime. Orwell imagined a state where truth could be manipulated and every move was watched. Decades later, in a world run by data and constant tracking, his descriptions still feel eerily familiar. Pakistani writers were making this same point long before it became the world’s concern. Saadat Hasan Manto’s Toba Tek Singh imagined a man stranded between two countries decades before the world started talking about refugees and border crises. Qurratulain Hyder’s Aag Ka Darya traced the same cycle of displacement and rebuilding that we’re still watching today, whether in Gaza, Ukraine, or Afghanistan, revealing how human beings survive conflict no matter which war or which century it happens to be. What makes literature so accurate over time is not mysticism. Writers were not fortune-tellers. They were keen observers of human nature. They sensed that while the world keeps reinventing itself, people rarely do. A writer who understands these instincts deeply enough, produces literature that seems to anticipate futures it was never meant to witness. That same power demands caution. Literature can expose hidden truths just as easily as it can be used as a tool of persuasion. Throughout history, poems, novels, and stories have been used to shape how people think, feel, and behave. Rudyard Kipling’s The White Man’s Burden is a reminder of how easily powerful narratives can turn domination into duty. It shows how persuasive language can make unequal power structures appear virtuous and troubling ideas sound noble. The same dynamic persists today, whenever power seeks a more palatable language to conceal itself. The Soviet Union promoted an entire genre known as socialist realism, where literature was not expected to explore human complexity but to glorify the state and inspire loyalty. Even something as ordinary as a school curriculum works the same way. The books chosen for students are never just neutral stories. They are early lessons that shape young minds, teaching them which histories to trust and which values to hold onto. This is the quiet, manipulative side of literature that doesn’t need to announce itself, yet still decides how an entire generation views the world. Literature deserves more than passive consumption. The same stories that broaden our understanding can also be used to influence and persuade. That makes reading critically, asking who wrote something and why, not just an academic skill, but a way of navigating a world built on narratives. What keeps literature alive is not tradition, nostalgia, or academic praise. It is the moment of recognition it still delivers. When a writer long gone can describe anxieties, conflicts, and dilemmas that feel unmistakably current, how many of our modern concerns are merely old questions in new disguises?

  • Why Has the System Collapsed in Pakistan?

    The poor nation has been treated like a naïve fool—or like a buffalo standing idly in Anarkali Bazaar, merely watching the spectacle—while the only person truly entitled to everything has been the one holding the stick. In such circumstances, lamenting that “our system has collapsed” amounts to nothing more than crocodile tears. May one dare ask these distinguished representatives of power: who is the greatest beneficiary of this collapsed system today? Surely, it is not that poor, powerless figure who constitutionally occupies the office of Prime Minister but is widely perceived as nothing more than a flatterer, a “Cherry Blossom,” or a bootlicker. Even the authority to reprimand one of his own unruly cabinet ministers has been taken away from him. Before the real power brokers, the poor man has no option except to bow or prostrate himself in deference. Yet even this symbolic arrangement seems intolerable to those who wield the stick. They ask: Why should this weak individual even occupy this ceremonial chair? If we are the real source of power, why are these sheep and goats sitting here at all? And who does the Eighteenth Constitutional Amendment think it is, making us dependent upon these provincial “sheep and goats”? If we require funds for “protecting the people,” why should we have to seek the approval of these so-called political parties? Why not simply dismantle the provinces, divide them into thirty pieces, and grind them down, just as our revered elder, the “true believer” of the Zia era, once envisioned—that politicians would come crawling to lick our feet with their tails tucked between their legs? But these are not our real issues, despite the crocodile tears now being shed over them. The system has produced poverty, unemployment, despair among the youth, and unbearable inflation. Our country is being humiliated across the world. The begging bowl has become our national symbol. Even our Prime Minister has admitted that whenever leaders of friendly countries see us, they think, “Here comes the beggar.” Our young people, exhausted by poverty and hunger, want nothing more than to leave this country. Many die while attempting the dangerous Dunki route to Europe, drowning in overcrowded boats. Is there any system here that offers them hope? You criticize the distribution of laptops. Although laptops are a useful technology, today the world has advanced from artificial intelligence to cutting-edge digital technologies. Compare our condition with that of India. Where are the modern industries that can provide educated and capable young people with respectable jobs and salaries that match their abilities? When will our society become not only modern in agriculture but also genuinely industrial? All this has resulted in the destruction of democracy, lawlessness, the systematic killing of merit, inequality, oppression, and the transformation of the country into a breeding ground for crime. Bribery, favoritism, and nepotism are everywhere. Why has our country repeatedly experienced martial law? Why is there neither respect for nor supremacy of the law? Why has our Parliament become nothing more than a rubber stamp for the powerful? Why does our judiciary continue to place boots above the Constitution? To what extent has our society been destroyed because of this, and who is truly responsible? The absence and destruction of these values have killed the spirit of tolerance and coexistence in our society. They have nurtured the snakes of religious hatred and made it impossible for ordinary people to live with dignity. This oppressive approach has created and nurtured countless forms of extremism. It has robbed our younger generations of their emotions and independent thinking. What is taught in our religious seminaries in the name of sanctity, and the hatred propagated there, as well as the fanaticism promoted in modern educational institutions under the labels of Pakistan Studies, theology, and religious education, leaves little room for disagreement. Anyone expressing an alternative viewpoint faces severe restrictions. It is not only conservative society that reacts harshly; the country’s blasphemy laws also loom threateningly over dissent. In such an environment, how can freedom of expression and intellectual liberty flourish? In such suffocating conditions, where is the space for fresh and critical thinking? In a society eaten away like wood infested with termites, how can any humane system possibly develop? Much of our society’s religious intolerance is a direct consequence of this repression. Both our media and our educational curriculum have been damaged by this suffocating approach. Without freedom of expression, how can an effective system of accountability based on critical inquiry ever emerge? How can social, political, and religious bullying, superstition, and corruption within society ever be eliminated? It has turned not only the powerful into tyrants but even an ordinary clerk into a little Pharaoh. The more authority someone possesses, the more they begin to think of themselves as a god. This culture of oppression has hollowed out our society from within. Our Chief Minister seems to believe she is all-powerful. Not only Maryam Nawaz, but every member of her cabinet—men and women alike—behaves like a dragon, intimidating not only the public but even members of their own provincial assembly. As for the members of the assembly themselves, they appear to consider hardly anyone other than themselves to be worthy human beings. (To Be Continued)

  • Chief Justice of India versus Cockroach Janta Part…

    By Muhammad Imran, Staff Member, SAHSOL-LUMS and Asma Rahmat, Final Year Law Student, SLC, Superior University and Muhammad Ameer Hamza, Final Year Law Student, SLC, Superior University Introduction: Pakistan appears to be entering yet another phase of constitutional uncertainty, engineering, or manipulation, where political developments, institutional pronouncements, and proposals for structural reforms are converging to reshape the national discourse. Recent statements by senior state functionaries have reignited debate over governance, federalism, constitutional amendments, and the future distribution of political power. Whether these developments represent genuine constitutional reform or another episode of constitutional engineering remains an open question. The debate was triggered during an Economic Summit when the Federal Interior Minister, Syed Mohsin Naqvi, observed that the existing “hybrid” governance arrangement had exhausted its utility. While acknowledging the efforts of the Prime Minister, he maintained that the present political system could no longer deliver effective governance and therefore required a comprehensive “reset.” He further warned that, unless structural reforms were undertaken, Pakistan risked witnessing the resurgence of what he described as the CJP as “Cockroach Janta Party”; do not take it as Chief Justice of Pakistan (CJP), a political phenomenon which, in his opinion, would be unsustainable. Within twenty-four hours, Lieutenant General Ahmed Sharif Chaudhry, Director General of ISPR, echoed concerns regarding governance during his media briefing. He emphasized that Parliament bears the constitutional responsibility to devise solutions to persistent governance failures. He further argued that Pakistan’s rapidly expanding population necessitates a serious national debate on the creation of additional provinces to improve administrative efficiency, public service delivery, and democratic accessibility. More significantly, he linked good governance with national security, observing that sustainable counter-terrorism efforts require not only military preparedness but also effective civilian governance and institutional stability. These successive statements have inevitably fuelled speculation regarding another phase of constitutional restructuring. Following the enactment of the person-specific (Justice Syed Mansoor Ali Shah) Twenty-Seventh Constitutional Amendment, which substantially altered Pakistan’s judicial architecture by establishing the Federal Constitutional Court (FCC) and redistributing the constitutional jurisdiction of the Supreme Court, political circles have begun discussing the possibility of a Twenty-Eighth Constitutional Amendment. Although no formal proposal has yet emerged, reports suggest that the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) remains cautious about any constitutional initiative that may dilute the federal autonomy secured through the Eighteenth Constitutional Amendment, particularly the post-NFC fiscal arrangement. Federalism and the NFC Question: Any discussion concerning new provinces inevitably intersects with Pakistan’s fiscal federalism. The Seventh National Finance Commission (NFC) Award and the Eighteenth Amendment fundamentally altered the Federation’s financial architecture by allocating a substantially larger share of federal revenues to the provinces. While these reforms strengthened provincial autonomy, they simultaneously reduced the fiscal capacity of the Federation. Successive federal governments have therefore expressed concern regarding the shrinking financial resources available to discharge expanding national responsibilities. Similar proposals for revisiting the NFC framework surfaced during the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) government; however, they never materialized because constitutional amendments require a two-thirds parliamentary majority—a threshold that remained politically unattainable. The Politics of New Provinces: The proposal to create additional provinces is hardly novel. For decades, constitutional scholars have argued that Pakistan’s demographic expansion justifies administrative decentralization. Provinces with populations exceeding those of many sovereign states inevitably face governance challenges, administrative inefficiencies, and unequal public service delivery. Yet constitutional necessity has consistently collided with political reality. Pakistan’s two dominant political parties—the Pakistan Muslim League (Nawaz) (PML-N) and the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP)—have repeatedly expressed conditional support for provincial reorganization while demonstrating limited political willingness to implement it. Their reluctance is attributable not merely to the enormous financial burden of establishing new legislatures, governors’ houses, provincial secretariats, judicial institutions, police organizations, and civil services. More fundamentally, new provinces would inevitably redistribute political influence, electoral constituencies, financial resources, and administrative authority. The current debate vividly illustrates this contradiction. The PPP has argued that provincial reorganization should begin with Punjab, Pakistan’s largest province by population. The PML-N, whose electoral dominance is centred in Punjab, has shown little enthusiasm for initiating such reforms within its own political base. Consequently, critics contend that the resistance to provincial restructuring reflects electoral calculations as much as constitutional considerations. Constitutional Amendments versus Constitutional Governance: Pakistan’s constitutional history demonstrates that amendments have frequently been employed as instruments of political expediency rather than mechanisms of democratic consolidation. Whether enacted by military governments or elected administrations, constitutional amendments have often reflected prevailing political necessities instead of broad constitutional consensus. The central question, therefore, is not whether another constitutional amendment should be enacted, but whether constitutional amendments alone are capable of resolving Pakistan’s chronic governance crisis. Experience suggests otherwise: No constitutional amendment—regardless of its political significance—can compensate for weak institutions, ineffective governance, deficient accountability, or inconsistent adherence to constitutional norms. Constitutional text may reorganize institutions, but it cannot, by itself, transform political culture. The Crisis of Democratic Representation: Pakistan’s more profound constitutional challenge lies elsewhere. A constitutional democracy derives its legitimacy from authentic political representation. Citizens must possess the genuine ability to elect representatives through elections that are free, fair, transparent, and universally trusted. Only under such conditions can Parliament legitimately exercise constituent authority on behalf of the people. Critics of Pakistan’s constitutional evolution have long argued that recurrent political interruptions, institutional interventions, and governance deficits have prevented representative democracy from maturing into a fully autonomous constitutional order. Consequently, civilian supremacy—despite being an essential constitutional aspiration—has often remained institutionally fragile, docile and compliant. Without addressing the quality and credibility of democratic representation, constitutional amendments risk becoming procedural exercises rather than substantive democratic reforms. Institutional Power and Constitutional Accountability: Recent political developments have also revived debate regarding the practical distribution of constitutional authority among state institutions. The Federal Interior Minister’s public assertion that the existing political system had “collapsed,” while continuing to serve in one of the most influential positions within the federal cabinet, generated significant constitutional commentary. Political analysts have interpreted this episode in different ways, but it has undeniably raised broader questions concerning constitutional accountability, institutional autonomy, civilian authority, and the practical operation of Pakistan’s

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *