All prisms

The Afghan prism

Munir AkramUpdated July 21, 2019Facebook Count

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DESPITE the Indian media’s assumptions of a US strategic volte-face, Islamabad would do well to
acknowledge that the Trump administration still views its relations with Pakistan largely through the
prism of Afghanistan. President Donald Trump’s desire for an early end to America’s longest war is
the principal reason for his invitation to Prime Minister Imran Khan.

Pakistan has played a key role in facilitating the Afghan peace process and the US-Taliban talks.
These have reportedly made encouraging progress over the past few months. An agreement on the
withdrawal of US-Nato troops has evidently been reached between the US and the Afghan Taliban,
although no timetable for the withdrawal has been finalised and it is not clear if the troop
withdrawal would be commenced before, during or after a political settlement in Afghanistan.

The Taliban, for their part, have agreed to prevent terrorism against the US and third countries from
Afghan territory post a settlement. It is unclear if the US will ask, as it did earlier, to leave behind a
‘small’ counterterrorism force in Afghanistan.

Despite facilitating US-Taliban talks, Pakistan has not secured any tangible reciprocity from the US.

Two weeks ago, US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo said in Kabul that “the time for peace has
come”. He hoped for a political settlement by Sept 1.

While the troop withdrawal and counterterrorism agreements are ready, the US special envoy,
Zalmay Khalilzad, has so far insisted on resolving two other issues simultaneously: an intra-Afghan
dialogue between the Taliban and Kabul government and a general ceasefire, tweeting that “nothing
is agreed until everything is agreed”. US withdrawal from Afghanistan could be delayed if the US
insists on the conclusion of intra-Afghan negotiations before troop withdrawals commence.

The Taliban have rejected direct talks with the Ashraf Ghani government (which they consider a US
puppet), but are willing to engage with all Afghans, including members of the government in their
personal capacity. An informal dialogue process was attempted in several locales and finally took
place last month in Doha coterminously with the separate US-Taliban talks.

This two-day intra-Afghan session issued a positive declaration expressing the desire of all Afghan
parties and groups to reduce civilian casualties “to zero” and preserve Afghanistan’s unity and
sovereignty and Islamic principles.

However, there is a formidable array of questions that must be answered to arrive at an intra-
Afghan political settlement: how will power be shared? On a territorial basis and/or through
distribution of executive posts at the centre and provinces? How would security be maintained?
Would the Taliban and regime forces be responsible for security in the areas they control? Would
these forces be eventually integrated; if so, how? Would the US and the international community
continue to provide economic and other assistance to a post-settlement Afghanistan, including
areas/entities controlled by the Taliban? Will the (US-drafted) Afghan constitution be reaffirmed,
amended or replaced? Will protections for women and minorities be preserved?

The Taliban have, so far, rejected the US proposal for a ceasefire during the dialogue. They have the
military momentum, and fear losing the support of some hard-line commanders. The Taliban may
eventually accept a ceasefire if convinced either that the US is genuinely committed to troop
withdrawal or that they can achieve their end-goals without further fighting.

An Afghan political settlement will not be durable unless it is supported by regional powers and
Afghanistan’s immediate neighbours Pakistan and Iran. The US special envoy adroitly commenced a
trilateral US-Russia-China dialogue to build regional consensus. Indeed, Afghanistan is one place
where the three major powers, despite their global rivalry, may have a convergent interest in
fighting terrorism and promoting stability.

At their last meeting in Beijing, Pakistan was invited to join the three great powers to expand
regional support for an Afghan peace settlement. Iran was reportedly also invited to the Beijing
consultations but refused to participate. Iran has close traditional relations with the Tajiks, Hazaras
and Shias, and new relations with some hard-line Taliban commanders. If US-Iran tensions escalate,
Tehran could severely disrupt the Afghan peace process.

US withdrawal and Taliban resurgence will end India’s two-front strategy against Pakistan and its
ability to sponsor TTP and BLA terrorism from Afghan territory. New Delhi would gladly play the role
of a spoiler to disrupt the Afghan peace process were it not afraid of angering its US ally.

As has been oft-stated, apart from the Afghans, Pakistan has the highest stakes in securing Afghan
peace. This would (hopefully) end US hostility and pressure; halt cross-border terrorism from
Afghanistan; ensure execution of several pending regional connectivity projects; and enable the
early repatriation of Afghan refugees.

Despite its bold and continuing facilitation of the US-Taliban talks, until now, Pakistan has not
secured any tangible reciprocity from the US (apart from the designation of the BLA as a terrorist
entity). On the contrary, until recently, Washington maintained economic pressure on Pakistan via
the IMF and FATF, and demanded action against the leaders of the proscribed pro-Kashmiri
organisations (LeT and JeM) which Pakistan has taken.

In the Washington talks, the US is likely to ask Pakistan to ‘do more’ to persuade the Taliban to
negotiate with Kabul and accept a ceasefire. It may also go beyond Afghanistan to seek assurances
regarding the Kashmir insurgency, nuclear and missile issues and relations with Iran.

Pakistan would do well to avoid assuming additional obligations on the western or eastern front.
Over-promising and under-delivering could reopen the mistrust and acrimony that has dogged
Pakistan-US ties since at least 2005.

Instead, Pakistan should expect that its strong support to the desired peace process will finally yield
some gestures of US support. The US could take action against the TTP and BLA; help in monitoring
and fencing the Pakistan-Afghanistan border; provide counterterrorism equipment; release blocked
CSF moneys; and promote Afghan refugee repatriation. Washington could adopt more even-handed
policies towards Pakistan and India. Further, the US administration could encourage its corporations
and private equity firms to actively consider investment in Pakistan to revive growth and unleash its
vast economic potential
Eight months in, how is Balochistan faring?
From economic revival to managing the insurgency, here's a progress report of the province's
coalition.

Malik Siraj AkbarUpdated Aug 16, 2019 05:18pm

In 2018, Balochistan witnessed political earthquakes on at least three different fronts. All these
tumultuous changes emanated from different sources and targeted specific goals. All these political
rebellions in near-unison identified a common enemy: Islamabad.

The first upheaval came months before the general elections of July 2018 when several members of
the Pakistan Muslim League-Quaid and former allies of ex-prime minister, Nawaz Sharif, decided to
close Balochistan’s doors to the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N) and the Pakistan People’s
Party (PPP).

Weary of what they described as Balochistan’s endless exploitation by the two mainstream national
parties and persistent manipulation of the province’s natural resources and political vulnerabilities,
this group of traditionally pro-establishment politicians formed the Balochistan Awami Party (BAP).

All national and regional parties viewed the BAP as the establishment’s outpost in Quetta. On the
contrary, the BAP, which unsurprisingly won the highest number of seats in the provincial assembly,
pledged that, going forward, all decisions on Balochistan would be made in Quetta instead of
Islamabad.

That promise was soon broken when the decision on who would become Balochistan’s next chief
minister was actually made in Bani Gala, as the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf (PTI) announced its support
for Jam Kamal, previously Prime Minister Shahid Khaqan Abbasi’s Minister of State for Petroleum.

Consequently, the BAP, only months after its formation, was ready to become Balochistan’s next
ruling party.

Balochistan Chief Minister Jam Kamal Khan Alyani.

The second rebellion came from the Balochistan National Party (BNP), a Baloch nationalist party that
ditched its historical and ideological Baloch and Pashtun nationalist allies and entered into several
electoral alliances with the right-wing Jamiat Ulema-i-Islam.

To its critics, the BNP said that it had a strategy and a game plan for the next five years to find a
solution to Balochistan’s problems by assisting the new government as needed.
The initial hope was that the BNP would move quickly to form a coalition government in the
province. Too excited about their victories and desperate to join the new government, members-
elect from the Awami National Party, the Hazara Democratic Party and the Balochistan National
Party-Awami, all erstwhile allies of the BNP, jumped on the BAP bandwagon.

It was paradise lost for the BNP.

Nonetheless, on August 8, 2018, following an intense three-hour discussion in Quetta, the BNP
affirmed support for the PTI through a six-point memorandum of understanding (MoU) signed by the
party’s president and former chief minister, Sardar Akhtar Mengal, and PTI’s Shah Mehmood
Qureshi.

Under the MoU, the BNP extended support for PTI candidates for the positions of the prime
minister, the National Assembly speaker and the deputy speaker.

As a quid pro quo, the PTI pledged to meet a series of BNP demands, ranging from the release of the
Baloch missing persons to the repatriation of Afghan refugees from Balochistan.

Balochistan Chief Minister Jam Kamal Alyani (centre) with Balochistan Assembly Speaker Mir Abdul
Quddus Bizenjo (right).

The third major political upheaval was led by none other than voters of Balochistan who dumped all
three parties from the former ruling coalition: the PML-N, the National Party (NP) and the
Pashtunkhwa Milli Awami Party (PkMAP).

Voters particularly rebuked the NP and the PkMAP for playing the nationalism card to muster votes
and then, after coming into power, using it as a pretext to indulge in and justify corruption and
nepotism.

In other words, voters said: if we can vote you in, we can vote you out as well. Hence, the PML-N
and PkMAP, which had won 12 and 14 out of the total 65 seats in the previous Balochistan
Assembly, ended up winning only one seat each in 2018.

The NP, whose leader Dr Malik Baloch was elected as the province’s first chief minister from the
middle-class in 2013, had won 11 seats in those elections, but failed to win a single seat in the 2018
polls.
The dramatic outcome created a complicated situation for Balochistan. The province looked to PTI
and BAP to resolve its outstanding issues. It was the first time that both these parties were heading
the federal and the provincial governments respectively.

Progress report

Nearly eight months after coming into power, the PTI — unconditionally supported by both BAP and
BNP, the ruling and the main opposition parties — still falls short of the pledge it has made in
chapter three of its election manifesto: “Champion reconciliation in Balochistan.”

As part of its efforts to strengthen the federation, the PTI promised it would “empower the
Balochistan government to launch and champion large-scale efforts for political reconciliation.”
Besides, it vowed to “reach out to the Baloch leadership and the disgruntled Baloch groups,
especially the youth by ensuring them political and economic empowerment.”

Stakeholders in the province seem to be running out of patience concerning PTI’s ability to break the
political impasse and negotiate with armed Baloch groups.

I asked Dr Malik Baloch what should happen to achieve reconciliation in Balochistan. He said it was
solely the prerogative of the establishment if it wants to allow dialogue between the government
and the Baloch insurgents.

“I really wanted reconciliation with the Baloch armed groups,” he said while recalling his term as
head of the provincial government. “If the establishment is not onboard, reconciliation is almost
impossible. I did my best but to no avail.”

Former chief minister and NP leader Dr Abdul Malik Baloch.—Reuters

Unlike previous governments, the PTI and BAP have either stepped back from earlier promises to
reach out to the Baloch insurgents or decided only to negotiate with groups that do not champion
secessionist ambitions.

The BAP, on the other hand, did not even acknowledge the existence of the Baloch insurgency in its
2018 election manifesto, nor did it indicate any plans to reconcile with the disillusioned Baloch
nationalists.

Babar Yousafzai, PTI’s provincial spokesperson, does not see a retreat from the party’s earlier
commitment to reconciliation. He cites support from the BNP for PTI at the federal level as evidence
that moderate Baloch nationalists who respect the Constitution fully support the PTI.
“The state will talk only with those who will recognise the Constitution, and the writ of the
government. In recent months, several insurgents have surrendered, accepted the rule of law. In
return, the state has offered them amnesty,” he said in an interview with me.

Statistics on violence in Balochistan portray a different and a bleak picture.

For example, in its Pakistan Security Report 2018, the Pak Institute for Peace Studies (Pips), an
Islamabad-based think-tank, reported a 29 per cent decline in terrorist attacks in Pakistan, but
Balochistan remained the country’s most-affected province in terms of terrorism-related casualties.

According to the report, at least 354 people were killed in Balochistan — over 59pc of the total 595
people killed in terrorist attacks across Pakistan — and 589 others were injured in 115 reported
attacks from there.

Both Yousafzai, the PTI spokesman, and Pips, are somewhat correct that violence from Baloch
nationalists has decreased. Pips said in 2018, the Baloch nationalists “carried out 80 attacks — as
compared to 138 such attacks in 2017 — which claimed 96 lives and wounded another 216 people.”

State of the insurgency

However, it is important not to overlook two other vital factors if one is to avoid jumping to
simplistic conclusions about the state of law and order in Balochistan.

First, groups like Pips compile their data based on reports in the media. In 2017 and 2018,
newspapers in Balochistan came under severe pressure from the security establishment not to
report ‘negative stories’ containing the activities of the armed groups.

The government believed that publishing the actions of these organisations demoralises the security
personnel fighting to restore peace in Balochistan, stir panic among the public and further glorify
insurgent activities.

Hence, newspapers began to censor stories about the activities of armed Baloch groups. In reaction,
the Baloch Liberation Front (BLF), a group active mostly in the Makran region under the leadership of
Dr Allah Nazar, announced a boycott of the news media.

Related: I was the first chief minister to address the existence of death squads in Balochistan: Abdul
Malik Baloch
That said, the BLF forcefully asked cable operators to stop airing Pakistani news channels and also
forced newspaper distributors to stop delivering newspapers in Baloch-majority parts of the
province.

A BLF-led boycott of the media started on October 24, 2017, and lasted until January 20, 2018.
During this time, several press clubs also remained closed.

Persistent tensions between security forces and Baloch militant groups have made it almost
impossible to independently and consistently report all violent incidents.

Obviously, the fact that they are not reported in the media does not mean violent attacks have
stopped occurring.

Second, almost all Baloch armed groups are undergoing transformation, caused by a change in
traditional leadership and urbanisation of their operations from small towns to cities outside
Balochistan, as witnessed by the attack on the Chinese consulate in Karachi, which was claimed by
the Baloch Liberation Army (BLA).

The leadership of these Baloch armed groups is shifting from the old traditional commanders to
more educated and trained young operatives.

Homecoming of the disappeared

One critical issue that has continuously fuelled anti-Islamabad sentiments and generated support for
Baloch nationalist and insurgent groups has been the longstanding problem of missing persons.

Despite repeated interventions by the Supreme Court in the past, frequent calls by human rights
organisations and incessant protests and long marches by rights activists and families of disappeared
people, no one has been able to persuade those blamed for the recurrent cases of enforced
disappearances to give up this counterproductive policy and practice.

All efforts, including the formation of several official committees, have failed to resurface the missing
persons so that armed groups and the Baloch nationalists do not manipulate this issue for their own
political gains and public sympathies.

Years before becoming the prime minister, PTI chairman Imran Khan visited the protest camp of the
missing persons outside the National Press Club in Islamabad in April 2012.
According to one report, during his visit, he “asked the Chief of Army Staff (COAS) General Ashfaq
Parvez Kayani to clear his position on the alleged involvement of armed forces in picking up people
as the allegation was earning a bad name for Pakistan Army.”

He was reported saying that the issue of the missing persons was “crippling peace in Balochistan
where bodies of people picked up from their homes had been found abandoned which resulted in
giving birth to hatred against the state.”

Relatives of missing persons demonstrate at Hyderabad Press Club in 2013 as they participate in a
travelling march organised by Voice of Baloch Missing Persons from Balochistan to Islamabad.—
Photo by INP

After years of failure and inaction, there is finally a slight breakthrough in Balochistan as some of the
missing persons have actually begun resurfacing since the beginning of the year 2019.

Dozens have returned home who were once on the list of the Voice of Baloch Missing Persons
(VBMP), a Quetta-based organisation comprised of family members and relatives of the missing
persons. The organisation has campaigned on this issue for more than a decade.

Some of the people who have returned had been missing for as many as eight or nine years. On their
release, these victims of forced disappearance do not speak to the media.

When the BAP came into power, it approached the VBMP representatives and said it was serious in
resolving the issue without going public about its intentions because premature announcements
might raise public expectations and cause enormous embarrassment if the provincial government
fails to make progress on this front.

The Balochistan government and leaders of the VBMP met at least four times. They exchanged
details about the missing persons and discussed suggestions and strategies that could help in
bringing back the missing persons.

In these meetings, VBMP leaders categorically told the newly-elected government that they were
unwilling to go through the longer route of filling out more forms and appearing in front of a new
commission or a joint investigation committee because they viewed this as a delaying tactic from the
government’s side. They had already gone through this monotonous process several times in the
past under different governments.
A change appeared when Jam Kamal, the chief minister, on December 26, 2018, replaced Home
Minister Mir Saleem Ahmed Khosa with Ziaullah Langove.

Days after his appointment as the new home minister, Langove visited the camp of the missing
persons in Quetta and pledged to bring back the disappeared persons within three months.

Meanwhile, Chief Minister Kamal, who was also under continued pressure in Quetta from relatives
of the missing persons to do something about the issue, met with Prime Minister Imran Khan and
the army chief, General Qamar Javed Bajwa, to seek their help.

In depth: The case of missing persons in Balochistan

In a press conference in Quetta on January 16, 2019, Kamal did confirm having spoken to the prime
minister and reminding him of his election campaign promise on the recovery of the missing
persons. He mentioned that he was talking to all “stakeholders” in what seemed to be a reference to
the army and security officials.

On the same day, the VBMP announced it was closing down its protest camp for the first time in a
decade after meeting with Kamal who had also requested them to give him a few months to address
the matter.

Since taking office, Kamal has made a name for himself as an approachable chief minister. He
actively uses Twitter to communicate with the public, the media and local activists as he readily
answers public inquiries and gives the impression that his government believes in public services,
accountability and transparency.

In a province where most chief ministers are tribal chiefs and have historically remained inaccessible
and unapproachable, Kamal is breaking away from those traditions and redefining the voter-leader
relationship.

His presence on social media has also made it impossible for him to remain silent in the face of
hundreds of questions and messages received everyday about the missing persons and what his
government has done to recover them.

“Like other political parties, we could also hold photo sessions or make false claims and promises on
the recovery of the missing persons as soon as we came in power. But, we chose to behave seriously
and responsibly because we are the government and we have to act like the government and not
like a political party. It is a complex issue and we need more time to fix it fully,” Kamal said in a press
conference in January.

—Photo by INP

With the return of some of the missing persons, Nasrullah Baloch of the VBMP sees some light at the
end of the tunnel. Nasrullah says the PTI’s central leadership has not contacted them directly since
coming into power, but their provincial leadership has kept in touch.

He is ecstatic over the recommendation by the Senate’s Functional Committee on Human Rights
urging the Ministry of Human Rights to draft a bill that will criminalise enforced disappearances in
Pakistan and make it a punishable offence.

“If this bill is passed, it will prove that the PTI government is committed to resolving the issue of
enforced disappearances,” he said, adding that the VBMP has three critical recommendations for the
federal government if it wishes to permanently resolve the issue of the missing persons in a dignified
manner.

First, when a person is picked up, their family members should be informed about the charges
against them, and they should also disclose the name of the agency that is holding the accused
person in custody.

Second, people who have already gone missing should be recovered and presented in court to face a
legal trial.

Third, if any missing person has already been killed in custody, their family members should be
informed so that they no longer wait for their return.

The return of some of the missing persons has already triggered an obnoxious war between
supporters of the PTI, BAP and BNP as to who should actually be credited for this success.

Nasrullah Baloch does not shy away from giving credit to Chief Minister Jam Kamal and BNP's
president, Sardar Akhtar Mengal, for their active role in addressing this issue.

However, he insists that actual credit goes to the families of the missing persons, especially women,
children and the elderly, who have remained attached with the VBMP struggle for a decade in their
quest for justice.
Throughout these years, he reminded, they had been threatened, intimidated and harassed. Even
security agencies, he alleged, warned the media not to report about their protest camp while
leaders and activists of different political parties were told not to visit the missing persons’ camp.

He also commends Kamal for fulfilling his promise to highlight the issue in Islamabad, where he was
given the green signal to could go back to Balochistan and tell the media that the state institutions
were serious about addressing the issue of the missing persons.

Whose CPEC?

Political parties in Balochistan entered the election race in July 2018 branding Islamabad as the real
enemy. Today, they still do not show any remorse for doing so.

Differences at the local level aside, political parties in the coalition government, as well as the
opposition, have been deepening their criticism of the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) and
Balochistan’s inadequate share in the multi-billion dollar project.

The Baloch armed groups have initiated a series of extreme violent attacks on the Chinese, ranging
from the BLA-sponsored attack on a bus carrying Chinese engineers in August 2018 in Dalbandin —
which injured five people and occurred 210 miles away from Quetta — to the shocking attack on the
Chinese consulate in Karachi.

Political parties have also not been pleased with Islamabad’s handling of Balochistan’s concerns and
demands on CPEC.

Cognisant of Balochistan’s increasing sense of dissatisfaction about CPEC, Imran Khan, in his first
official visit to Quetta as prime minister in October 2018, said the province would be paid more than
its due share in CPEC projects.

That seemed like a mere promise. It still awaits fulfillment.

Former Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif and other notables at the ceremony marking the initiation of
trade activities through CPEC Gwadar.—AFP

“The PTI leadership lacks a clear strategy and framework to address Balochistan’s political and
developmental issues. We, as allies and coalition partners, have tried many times to make them
understand and develop a political strategy and action plan,” said Sanaullah Baloch, a former senator
and a vocal opposition member from the BNP in the Balochistan Assembly, in an interview with me.
Sanaullah says PTI has been “disappointingly slow” in the implementation of BNP’s six-point agenda
it accepted in return for the latter's support.

“The PTI-led central government is almost following the footprints of previous regimes, and so far it
is unable to disclose an innovative, realistic and practical approach and policy to address hardcore
issues including mainstreaming and empowering Balochistan.”

As things stand, a disillusioned Sanaullah warns that his party might review its support for the PTI
once its leaders sit down to evaluate the Centre’s one-year performance and fulfillment of the
promises it had made to the people of Balochistan.

Analysis: No progress made on Balochistan component of CPEC’s western route

On December 21, 2018, the Balochistan Assembly passed a resolution tabled by Sanaullah
demanding a higher share for the province in CPEC.

Chief Minister Jam Kamal did not confront or dispute the contents of the resolution presented by
Nawab Aslam Raisani, a former chief minister under the PPP government, who had called for more
transparency and inclusion of Balochistan in the decision-making process on CPEC projects.

“Balochistan’s current share under CPEC is only 4.5pc. If we don’t include Gwadar Port and Hubco
projects, then Balochistan’s share in CPEC is reduced to a meagre 1pc,” the chief minister said on the
floor of the Balochistan Assembly in December.

Kachkol Ali Baloch, a former leader of the opposition in the Balochistan Assembly, describes CPEC as
a “destructive and exploitative mega project” where, he alleges, China has applied its sharp power
doctrine and debt-trap diplomacy to take over the Gwadar port with a mysterious agreement.

He points out that security forces have begun to restrict local fishermen from going to the sea for
fishing.

Citing the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, Kachkol Baloch says
without the consent of the indigenous peoples of Balochistan, development under CPEC will be a
violation of international standards.

A guard keeps watch at Gwadar Port.—AP

Even Mohammad Aslam Bhootani, Gwadar’s elected representative in the National Assembly, is
skeptical about CPEC’s positive impact on Balochistan in general and Gwadar in particular.

He points out that the PTI has little control over Balochistan since the military calls the shots on
matters pertaining to the province, which it treats as a high-security zone.

Taking a break from the CPEC hype and the surrounding media blitz, Bhootani told me he wants
everyone to look at Gwadar with a realistic lens as he reminds that his electoral constituency lacks
fundamental amenities of life such as electricity, water and security.

“People of Gwadar are agitating because their ancestral lands are being taken away forcibly for the
proposed refineries by Saudi Arabia and the UAE,” complains Bhootani, who once served as the
Speaker of the Balochistan Assembly.

He seeks to draw attention to the dark side of the robust Saudi investment that was widely
advertised during the recent visit of the Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad Bin Salman to Pakistan.

The Gwadar MNA mocks Islamabad for using Balochistan-based projects, such as Gwadar and Reko
Diq, as a pretext to seek billions of dollars from Gulf countries to get bailout packages.

Perspective: CPEC: The devil is not in the details

Nevertheless, amid all the gloom, BAP’s Senator Anwaar Kakar says his party is “quite satisfied” with
PTI as it is paying proper attention to the province in terms of development.

“In the past, everyone imposed a chief minister on Balochistan from the Centre. But this time, they
respected the mandate in the province and allowed the BAP to lead,” he said in an interview with
me.

Voters and political parties in Balochistan have remained patient in the first eight months of the PTI-
led government as they have awaited relief with great anticipation.

However, rising socio-economic measures, political accommodation and relief will be needed to
keep the province satisfied and avoid any disruption of the current flow of support the PTI enjoys
from various stakeholders in the province.
The next four months will be critical if the BAP is rocked by infighting, or if BNP decides to withdraw
its support for the PTI in Islamabad to protest unfulfilled promises.

That does not seem utterly improbable. A shift on such a large scale can completely change the
political arena in the province and potentially disrupt whatever progress the PTI believes it has made
thus far — or plans to make in the future.

Fahrenheit Karachi

Human-induced climate change is here and whether I, whether we, like it or not, it will get hotter.

Basil AndrewsUpdated Oct 03, 2019 12:40pm

The concrete mouth of 5-star Chowrangi swallows us into North Nazimabad, Karachi's central
district. We’re speeding through a draft of hot air billowing around us from what feels like a tandoor.

This Tandoor Effect though is not a physical tandoor; it's hot and dry air rushing in from the
Balochistan desert plains as the monsoon system develops – a natural process – but aggravated by
the urban heat island (UHI) effect.

The sun is baking our exposed skin, my toes and his arms. Hot air brushes against my face, and into
my nostrils. I know he can feel the heat too; he keeps shifting the wet towel placed around his neck
– a rudimentary precaution to combat heat exhaustion during work as a captain on a ride-hailing
app.

I glance at my temperature meter: 42.1 degree Celsius it reads as the black digits stare out at me in
static certainty. “Take the road from this side,” I shout out directions over the jarring noise of traffic,
their silencers spitting out carbon dioxide and greenhouse gases (GHGs).

We’re parallel to the concrete promise called the Green Line. “A few more minutes,” I say to myself,
mustering whatever shreds of patience I can generate till I reach my destination. Is this going to be
the new normal; heatwaves each time the monsoon develops and dissipates? I hope to life, it isn’t.

I’m just a quarter of my existence into living and an aggravated heatwave brought on by human
activities is a tiring thought. But human-induced climate change is here and whether I, whether we,
like it or not, it will get hotter. It already has.

Naseeb Khan combs his hair inside a labour commune. “The electricity has been out since the last
two days,” he says wearily, dark circles around his eyes. Naseeb stands in one corner while his
roommate is lying on a floor mat on the other side. He fans himself, rigorously. Both are drenched in
sweat and the room forces my shirt to mimic their sweat patches.

On our left is a tiny rectangular opening that functions as a vent for the 120-square feet of space.
Naseeb continues, “I finish my shift by 2am but I’m unable to sleep. Our room remains warm late
into the night.” He has to share the sleeping quarter with as many as eight men at a time.

This labour commune is located inside Ilyas Goth and is a largely working-class neighbourhood.
Many residents find work in and around Landhi and Korangi’s industrial zones. It's an unplanned
settlement evidenced by the tight and narrow alleyways, un-demarcated walking and haphazard
living spaces with bad building design-codes. As family size and populations expanded, so did the use
of concrete-based designs for rooftops and cheaper alternatives such as asbestos sheets.

On the second day of this heatwave, Kulsoom – mother to four children – is preparing to leave for
her father’s place, a few streets behind us. We’re inside Mowach Goth, a formalised settlement
south of Baldia Town. Earlier in the week, her father fell ill during the same heatwave. It is now part
of her routine to send her children to her father’s residence and care for the family.

Explore: Is Karachi ready to fight the next big heatwave?

“We don’t have electricity at this time, and my father’s place has cooling, I thought it best to send
them during the day,” she says tiredly while packing a lunch of rotis and a vegetable curry in their
kitchen. An asbestos sheet reinforced with concrete blocks as weight acts as the roof. The
temperature metre at this stage reads out a 42°C inside the kitchen. Heat radiates around us.

“I do my cooking during the morning since it is cooler at that time, and we spray water on our
courtyard, twice a day to help keep the ground cool.” “Doesn’t that deplete your water storage?” I
ask. “It does,” she continues. “We order a tanker that costs us Rs2,200 and generally lasts a month.
During heatwaves we use more water to bathe and keep cool. The same tanker now lasts about 12
days.” Collectively, Kulsoom and her husband bring in an income of Rs16,000 a month – the expense
on water to keep cool pilfering through any dreams for saving.

Shakeel Ahmad’s 80-square yard home logs a sweltering 41°C against Pakistan Meteorological
Department's (PMD) reading of 45°C. The fan is switched off because Shakeel believes it increases
the ambient room temperature. In order to help keep cool, he has hung a wet cloth on an open
window, taking advantage of the light sea breeze. That helps, but not completely.

His son, Mudassir, aged 10 years, suffered a bout of heat exhaustion in the first heatwave (late May
2018) despite his parent’s care to prevent sun exposure. Shakeel knew what to do in such an
emergency – bathing him, applying wet wraps and feeding powdered juices. “He’s had a recurring
fever since then.”

Thankfully (morbidly or not), the countless churning out of bodies during the 2015 heatwave
propelled the government’s disaster management machinery into action. Since then, a mass
campaign to prevent heatstroke and heat exhaustion enabled Mudassir’s care-givers to identify the
symptoms and act.

People cool themselves off at Sea View in Karachi. - AP

While walking through the gullies, children play outside in the shadows, while women sit on the
ledge that marks the entrance to their homes. Some fanning themselves, others patiently sewing
patterns. Another walks to a tap on a wall outside the community mosque and begins to fill an
empty gallon with water.

There is no electricity in this block. A light breeze blows but doesn’t make much of a difference –
everyone can feel the heat surrounding us like an unwanted thermal blanket. A lone neem tree
grows outside an empty plot at the end of the street. Standing some 20-feet tall, it is shade to a
home beside it.

A few minutes of some tired walking, I’m at Abdul Wahab’s home. An olive coloured cloth hangs to
symbolise an entrance. He has just come home from his job as the school-help. Sweat beads dot his
face and drench his shalwar kameez. The electricity has just gotten back and he sits down to rest,
while his wife gets him water. For him and his family, the heat takes a collective toll on comfort and
quality of life.

“During the heat, I can’t sit or stand or talk… Becheni hoti hai.” If the heat becomes unbearable,
Wahab and his family of four individuals sit near or beside the underground water tank; the
perception being that it is cooler around that spot. Frequent bathing routines helps to dampen the
becheni. To keep up with expenses on water usage, his wife is stitching kadraahi – patterns for
Balochi dresses.

This disorder of urban morphology, geometry and wind-flow barriers collectively have a multi-
dimensional impact on micro-climates, a frequent pattern for about 62 per cent of the city that has
primarily depended and invested heavily in materials that act as heat-sinks, virtually birthing UHIs
into a constant presence.
These materials include concrete (used in housing and major construction projects), asbestos sheets
(cheap to use as a basic roof) and dark asphalt (all of which have lower levels of reflecting solar
radiation).

Each of these materials have larger heat retaining capacities. Additionally, urban densification, urban
sprawl and associated anthropogenic activities contribute to the expanse, effect and longevity of
UHIs. A continued existence inside this heated troposphere becomes a health risk.

The human body may be able to sweat it out during a heatwave, but considering maximum
temperature and relative humidity in the equation, the heat experienced can skyrocket. In a report
published by the Ministry of Climate Change in July 2015, Karachiites experienced a sustained heat
index of more than 50°C through 17th to 23rd June, reaching its maximum on the 20th, where the
maximum air temperature was recorded at 44.8°C and a heat index calculated at 66.1°C.

A man uses a hand-held fan to cool down his son while waiting for their turn for a medical checkup
outside the Jinnah Postgraduate Medical Centre during intense hot weather in Karachi. - AP

At 40°C, the human body begins to fail in thermoregulation and major organs begin to shut down;
hyperthermia sets in and is fatal if emergency medical assistance isn’t administered, immediately.

In a study, documenting a “gap” in access to energy (electrification) for space-cooling technology

units in the Global South, residents in low-income neighbourhoods face larger heat stress:

“With only 8% of the 2.8 billion people living in the hottest regions of the world possessing air-
conditioning (AC), access to cooling is a major equity issue. Typically the most affluent in society can
afford AC, but it is often the aged and poor who are most vulnerable to heat stress, particularly in
climates with hot summers and in urban areas. In tropics and sub-tropics, AC is also necessary to
maintain a comfortable sleep environment, important for allowing the body to recover between hot
days. More broadly, gaps in access to modern energy and technologies, poor housing design quality,
and climate change-related heatwaves exacerbate this issue, by increasing the risk of heat-related
mortality in many developing countries.”

The June 2015 heatwave is a prime example of what can happen when unpredictable energy
demands increase during extended spells of heatwaves. One of the reasons noted in the National
Electric Power Regulatory Authority’s decision to fine the city’s electric utility is “that its
understanding on overloading of transformers is based on average conditions prevailing in the grid.”

The same decision notes that while peak demand increased to over 3,000 megawatt during June
2015, the utility was able to pump out around 2475 MW; the rest was managed via segmented load
shed, a policy the regulatory authority has criticised, saying “…the failure of the (utility) to recognize
the extreme difficulties, the consumers of so called ‘high loss areas’ were facing cannot be justified.”

As part of the Heat Wave Management Plan 2017, issued by Karachi Metropolitan Corporation, an
understanding has been reached. Based on PMD’s heatwave alerts, the utility is required to review
plans and decrease or stop load shedding.

If we speak about climate change mitigation considering these scenarios, what can we do? Plant
more trees, if we go by the popularised notion to help dissipate heat. But is there any space left?

This August, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) published a draft report
recommending that we revisit our relationship to the land we inhabit in the context of
anthropogenic activities and climate change. In the background of reducing GHG emissions from all
sectors, the report sheds light on land management, specifically in relation to urbanisation and its
proper usage in tackling climate change-induced weather events, including intensified UHIs brought
on by future warming.

Pakistan’s urbanisation rate stands at 2.77pc with 50pc of the population projected to reside in
urban agglomerations by 2047. Karachi’s population is scheduled to touch 20 million by 2030
(unofficial estimates from the 2017 census already tag Karachi’s population in that bracket).

More migrations to cities mean greater urbanisation and pressure to convert non-urban land to
urbanised landscapes, including investments in built-environments that haven’t been reformed (as
yet) to include mitigation measures for UHI impacts. This forces a large chunk of the population to
undergo variable and disproportionate forms of heat stress.

Related: Cities, climate change and Pakistan’s extended urbanisation

“In the last 30-40 years, we’ve turned the city into a concrete jungle and now, there’s no empty
space,” says Muhammad Toheed, an urban planner and researcher at Karachi Urban Lab, IBA.
“Cement and manufacturing companies [involved in construction] will need to re-examine the
materials they use and differentiate between what is climate change-exacerbating and what is
climate change-proof and find alternatives and look at examples in other countries,” he says frankly
over the audible hum of the air conditioner.
It is late September and Karachiites are braving this year’s tail end of the wet phase of the monsoon
season. Consequently, a heatwave alert has been notified by the PMD. Outside our little silo, the
temperature on the asphalt road reads a sizzle of 48°C.

Toheed continues: “The second is how do we [develop] building and layout plans, and design to
accommodate for our local realities, how and what can be changed? A rather difficult question to ask
considering Karachi’s recent history of fragmented and unplanned development with inequitable
change in land use, specifically the issue of densification and urban sprawl.

Densities as high as 4,500 persons per hectare have been documented. Any form of urbanisation
increases the mean annual surface air temperature in cities and their surroundings ranging from
0.19°C to 2.60°C (due to UHIs). This difference in temperature is more pronounced at night than
during the day.

In Karachi’s context, the issue of inequitable densification combined with improper zoning
regulations are contributing towards UHI, heat stress and associated stressors that arrive with
improper and unplanned densification. Increased vehicular flow escalates urban air pollution that
increases the incidence of respiratory diseases, including asthma.

“If you look at Nazimabad today, the current densification trend is to go 12 stories, against a zoning
rule that allows a maximum of five stories. When this increases population density, which it will, are
we looking at the heat impacts as well?” questions Toheed.

“What about planning around concrete, don’t we have solutions?” I ask him. “How can we? We
don’t have data to quantify Karachi’s total concrete density. Zoning and building control authorities
don’t have that kind of info.”

Dr Noman Ahmed, dean of architecture and planning at NED University, adds in as well. “The
connecting densities to major city arteries have changed. Most of the transport arteries we used to
have were low to medium density; now they have been converted into medium to high density
zones.”

I’m inside his air-conditioned office taking notes. The heat outside is foreboding. “Let’s look at
Shahra-i-Faisal, Tariq Road and Shahra-i-Quaideen. All have allowed multiple storied construction
without necessarily revising the other standards for physical planning and that has caused an
enormous impact on the generation of UHIs effects.

"Shahra-i-Faisal at the moment has many spacious corners, but the building permits that are issued
and realised in the next four to five years will transform the artery into a tunnel-like corridor. Even if
the centre medians are used for increasing green cover, the overall concrete-to-green ratio would be
low.

"On roads that have no medians such as I.I. Chundrigar Road and M.A. Jinnah Road, [and] with the
construction of the Green Line in the latter case, has reduced opportunities for plantation along the
corridor.”

This raises further questions about harmonising the built-environment to combat extreme heat
events: retaining public spaces and green medians versus concrete and asphalt for development and
economic growth.

It’s around 5pm on the busy intersection at Garden and Commissariat Road. I’m on the pavement on
the southwest corner bounded by two major hospitals on both sides of the road. The concrete and
asphalt jungles are beginning to cool down from the heatwave – this one reaching a maximum of
40°C.

The air is thick with the smell of motor vehicle exhaust and an air conditioner unit jutting out on the
pedestrian pathway spits out hot and humid air. A motorcycle with packed goods on the backseat
startles and whizzes past me turning left towards Gul Plaza.

Patients move between the hospitals, dodging oncoming traffic, cautiously navigating a path through
the row of parked motorcycles around the pharmacies and diagnostic labs. Rickshaws clamour for
parking space around the entrance and corners of the hospital, in expectance to take on potential
passengers.

Pedestrians stand on the pavement, waiting; others drinking a glass of sugarcane juice to beat the
heat. Traffic warden Arshad authoritatively shoos the rickshaws away with his e-ticket machine in
hand. He is helpless in the face of motorcyclists, driving the wrong way. “As part of our traffic
management strategy, we’ve blocked the entrance of cars from the link road adjacent to Gul Plaza,
but people continue to violate basic rules.”

The plaza in question is a low- to middle-income shopping mall. On weekends, interested families
descend here, for the apparently cheap consumer goods imported from China. Blocking vehicles that
take on more road space allows the police to focus on the heavy influx of vehicular movement to
and from the busy commercial centre of Saddar’s car, cellphone and consumer electronic markets to
the western and northern parts of the city.
“Everyone is in a hurry to get somewhere,” he says while looking on at the car-lift that has arrived to
impound a car parked where we stand at the corner. The stress of the job increases during a
heatwave. “It is already hot and when commuters don’t follow the rules, it causes more problems,”
he complains. “During the middle of my shift, I develop a headache and the smoke causes
irritability.” Arshad hasn’t seen a doctor for his headache.

Read next: A car-unfriendly Pakistan? Yes, that's how you make livable cities

A lack of contextual understanding of spaces such as these contributes to spatial disorders, and are
an additional contribution to anthropogenic causes related to UHIs in dense spaces like this
intersection that see heavy vehicular movement.

“Yes, we should be looking into this sector because it exists on a large scale. Those households that
had one car, 10 years ago, now own three cars. If life was managed with one motorcycle, now there
is one car and a motorcycle,” says Dr Noman. In proportion to the rise of autonomous transport,
public modes of commuting have dropped.

“Buses and minibuses have declined, so has the use of bicycles. The biggest change in our current
lifestyle is when my generation would bicycle to school. My children are not doing the same. At that
time, it was a standard and accepted mode to commute. Everyone would use one, or we would go in
the school bus.

"Today, it is a standard to pick and drop children in a vehicle. On one end, it shows that school
transport has collapsed or is unreliable. The other factor is that the distance between homes to the
relevant school has increased.”

He makes reference to the time when schools were nearby and a person would volunteer to pick
and drop the children. “This is something that is unheard of today. If we wanted, we could devise
carpooling solutions where the school categorises students living in a 1km radius of each other and a
car volunteers to pick and drop them. These might be low-cost solutions, but they’re intelligent
ones.”

Reducing car and heavy vehicle usage reduces GHGs that contribute to UHIs. Dr Noman continues:
“The other point is to strictly enforce parking and flow regimes that will limit the unnecessary flow
and movement of cars into major commercial districts and other areas. One way to reduce
congestion is to announce car-free days on certain days (odd/even number system) or limit their
entry into certain specific spaces. Cities like New Delhi are using such strategies to combat their
problems with air pollution.”
A common theme runs through them: a preference and promotion for car-friendly architecture as a
means of commuting within the city. Signal-free corridors with flyovers, underpasses and bridges
have mushroomed faster than the existing tree cover in the city in the span of 20 years. Such
architecture adds to the collective heat absorbed by concrete and asphalt, the very materials used
for our growth in GDP. More road surfaces diminishe the land’s ability to absorb rainwater.

“We don’t have any concept of kachi mitti, we let the surface water flow away. The same water can
sink and recharge our aquifers and contribute to evapotranspiration,” Toheed says to me.

Related: Green spaces and governance

Since they exist in the public space, such structures and materials add to ambient-thermal
discomfort, especially for pedestrians. A loiter around Schon Circle gives a better idea. Tree cover is
spotty providing shade for passengers as they wait at the bus stop, but as you move towards the
four-lane wide road, it sizzle. It feels like fire walking.

But do pedestrian walkways even exist in this city?

Toheed explains with this thought for perspective: “If I wanted to go from Metropole Hotel to Jinnah
Hospital by foot, I wouldn’t be able to. There is no safe [shaded] and continued connectivity
between the pedestrian walkways. You’ll have to use the road and face the traffic at different
points.” To add to this inequity, inattention in design for inclusive walkways is another concern
altogether.

Shahzad Ghanchi, a wheel-chair user hailing from Baldia Town, explains: “None of the footpaths I’ve
wheeled on have a ramp to aid with mobility and commute. We have to rely on people’s sympathies
when asking for help.” Ease of access becomes a larger point of criticism considering that most
pedestrian pathways are either broken or with pot holes or, in other cases, an obstacle course
between thelas and stalls or utility infrastructure.

“What do you do when there’s a heatwave?” I ask. “I plan my day after receiving news alerts about a
heatwave warning through my smartphone or through word of mouth. I take extra precautions and
plan my day accordingly; usually I take an umbrella to act as shade.”

Away from the madness of the city’s centres, Karachi’s battle with UHIs is intensifying. An urban-
sprawl is creeping into what was once seen as Karachi Rural. Coined as “world-class cities”, similar
design typologies have been used: car-friendly architecture with expansive multi-lane asphalt roads.
A large part of the sprawl has embowelled and gouged the land and replaced it with vast concrete
erections, some of them warped representations of world-wonders surrounded by trimmed grass
lawns.

“These lands were earmarked as Karachi’s sub-urban belt to be used for agricultural purposes. There
was a lot of space for growing orchids, along with crops and crop rotations as well as pastoral
farming. Within that diversity, micro-climates were better. With the advent of [the] housing
societies, and subsequent development, land use has changed. The biggest impact is that
regeneration is no longer possible. Because Bahria Town and DHA will be there forever,” says Dr
Noman in a somber tone.

“What we should now do is ‘impactive’ land use planning and control of the remaining lands, so that
they aren’t disturbed. And land for agricultural purposes should be strictly held.”

The landscape of Malir and Jamshoro is being irrevocably altered by Bahria Town. – White Star

The IPCC recommends the same. They call it Urban Green Infrastructure. Adding green elements
(this can be street trees, green corridors, roofs/walls/built-environments, public parks and forests,
urban agriculture, vertical farms) can counteract the impacts of UHIs. Conversely, planning for blue
infrastructure (water bodies, lakes and streams) are acclaimed too.

The impact of such planning allows for the creation of co-benefits. A case in point is urban
agriculture in the urban centres and peri-urban areas that allow cities to be food secure, reduce
pressure on rural croplands and subsequent land degradation and reconnect urban populations to
food production systems counteracting the homogenisation of food options.

But none of these are possible without a careful examination of how we plan for land around UHIs
and nature-based solutions. "Karachi is not homogenous in terms of urban development and land
use. It varies from a highly congested, old city with mixed commercial, residential and industrial
activity, with little green areas and narrow streets; to high-end low density and low height residential
areas with good enough green spaces. Each of the 18 towns is different and each demands a tailored
strategy,” notes the Karachi Heatwave Management Plan.

In other words, tailored strategies or solutions require a local context keeping in mind the complex
and chaotic truths of the citizens who use these spaces. Given the urban geometry, density and
intense competition for space, a ground-up approach is the best policy.

“Our biggest success story in recent memory was the revitalisation of amenity parks kick-started by
the former City Nazim Naimatullah Khan and carried on by Mustafa Kamal,” says Dr Noman. “Some
11,000 small or big parks and green belts were revitalised including community parks that were
maintained by them and [institutionally] facilitated by the Union Councilors. Meaning, trees were
replanted and 25-30-year-old amenity spaces were revitalised. Without an empowered local
government, [all of] this is not possible.”

Back in North Nazimbad, our ride has ended and I’m relieved to arrive at my destination. Everything
around us feels like it is sizzling. The hot and dry wind rustles through a neighbouring neem tree.
After I’ve completed our transaction, the captain asks me if I had water. On instinct, I reach out for
my flask and hand it over to him.

He parks his motorcycle and looks in either direction. A family stands several feet ahead of us. The
captain makes his way towards a dormant and locked french fries stall and sits on his feet, the stall
hiding him, and he drinks.

His cellphone is strapped to the motorcycle’s tank. It beeps. Screwing the cup back on the flask, I
asked him, “Why did you do that? “It is Ramzan,” he says and hops back on the two-wheeler; the
app has sent details to pick a new passenger.

Towards climate justice in the spirit of internationalism

The new youth climate movements represent a new phase in the struggle against climate
breakdown.

Ammar RashidUpdated Sep 20, 2019 08:51pm

Starting today, we will see the largest worldwide climate mobilisation in the history of the planet for
a week.

Millions of young people across over 120 countries, including Pakistan, will flood out of schools,
universities and workplaces into the streets for a global climate strike to demand that governments
take radical action to address the ecological crisis and rein in carbon emissions before it is too late to
reverse the damage, a point scientists say we will reach in less than 10 years.

Among the most remarkable things about the climate strike and the movement behind it is the
startlingly young age of its leadership. Most among them – like the solemn and resolute teenager
Greta Thunberg – we would ordinarily consider children.

Yet somehow, millions of these school-going children from around the world have managed to act
collectively, through Fridays For Future school strikes, to force the attention of policymakers and the
public towards the impending ecological collapse they appeared intent on ignoring.
PTI's one year: Fixing how we deal with the climate crisis

The students are joined by other youth-led climate movements like the Extinction Rebellion (XR),
which uses civil disobedience and non-violent resistance to demand governments agree to an
accelerated time frame to achieve zero carbon emissions (by 2025), halt biodiversity loss and
institute a citizen-led decision-making model to guide and monitor the process.

This April, demonstrations by XR paralysed London for 11 days, and led to the United Kingdom
parliament becoming one of the first in the world to declare a climate emergency.

While the climate movement is still in its nascent stages in Pakistan, there are signs of rising
domestic concern as the crisis begins to hit home. Just two months ago, farmers from Thatta
marched in the hundreds to protest rising sea levels, lack of water access and the destruction of the
Indus Delta from upstream dam construction. This week, marches are being organised by thousands
in over 30 cities in the biggest mobilisation on the climate in Pakistani history.

So, what is distinct about these new climate movements and what lessons can we glean from them
about how to address the crisis facing us?

A shift in consciousness

It is fair to say that the new movements represent an ongoing shift in global consciousness about the
dangerous impact humanity is having on the planet.

For decades, climate scientists and a fringe green movement were the only groups sounding the
alarm on the climate as the majority of society went about its business unconcerned and political
leaders paid lip service to the cause.

In recent years, however, global public opinion on the climate crisis appears to have undergone a
perceptible shift, in what psychiatrist Robert Lifton has referred to as the climate swerve.

The increased frequency and scale of climate-related natural disasters have provided ordinary
people around the world with a visible and terrifying template for imagining what future climate
catastrophe might look like.

Related: Climate change does not need visas to cross borders

The ecologist John Bellamy Foster relates this shift to an emergent species consciousness: an
increasing sense of universalist identification with humanity and even other species, one that
appears to be driving the new climate protests and fueling their urgency.

In many ways, this is a generational shift; it is young people – whose lives will be most affected by
the climate crisis – who are increasingly speaking of a shared global material reality, rejecting the
tentativeness and ideological conservatism of their parents’ generation and asserting the need for
large-scale international cooperation and direct action beyond boundaries of nation, race or religion.

It is this universalist consciousness and spirit of radical internationalism that will be necessary to
tackle the immensely powerful economic and political interests – from the fossil fuel industry to
large agribusiness to rightwing populists – that are spearheading planetary destruction.

Confronting capitalist expropriation of nature

The strikes represent a growing indictment of the economic system – capitalism – that is
fundamentally responsible for the ecological crisis, as younger generations increasingly call into
question the efficacy of the profit motive as the main governing principle of modern society.

The link between climate change and capitalism is now borne out by incontrovertible evidence –
carbon records firmly establish the origins of global warming as directly traceable to the forces of
expropriative production unleashed since the Industrial Revolution and, more recently, to the period
of exponential growth following World War II, now known as the Great Acceleration.

This latter period, known as the golden age of the capitalist world economy, has witnessed
unprecedented increases in fossil fuel combustion, carbon dioxide emissions, species extinctions,
losses in biodiversity, ocean acidification, freshwater depletion and forest loss.

Read next: What happens when the Indus doesn't reach the sea?

Capitalism fundamentally changed how humanity related to nature, viewing it not as a place with
inherent boundaries within which human beings must co-exist with other species, but rather as a
resource to be exploited and commodified in a process of endless economic expansion to enable
unlimited acquisitive gain – often only for a select few.

Over 150 years ago, Karl Marx predicted that capitalism’s tendency for productive expansion in the
search for greater profits – the madness of economic reason that fuels the pursuit of infinite growth
from finite resources – would cause an irreparable rift in the inter-dependent metabolic relationship
between human beings and the earth. Today, even the most stubborn opponents of Marxism would
be hard-pressed to deny the truth of this claim.

Addressing the climate crisis will have to involve a radical rethinking of humanity’s place in and
relationship with nature. This will require a fundamental break from the capitalist understanding of
nature as a non-living exploitable resource towards one of co-evolution and inter-dependence.

Beyond state sovereignty

The strikes are also an indictment of a political system – of the complete failure of the international
Westphalian political order to respond to the ecological crisis.

Instead of devising collective solutions to avert ecological collapse, political leaders around the world
have instead fiddled with half-hearted market mechanisms like carbon trading, or worse, enabled a
majoritarian drift towards insular, rightwing populist nationalism at the worst possible historical
moment.

As the reality of the climate crisis has begun to dawn on the world, those societies – like the United
States – most responsible for the crisis have conveniently elevated into power nationalist strongmen
like Donald Trump who publicly deny the reality of the crisis while willfully empowering the very
industries that continue to recklessly aggravate ecological breakdown in the name of America First.

Similar populist nationalisms are on the rise in the subcontinent as nuclear-armed rivals face off
against each other in defence of exaggerated notions of sovereignty, even as their immiserised
populations face natural disasters, rising water shortages and unbreathable air.

Also read: Pakistan and India face common threats. Climate change is the biggest one

The accelerated, deliberate destruction of the Amazon rainforest – known as the lungs of the planet
for its immense role in global carbon absorption – to make way for export-oriented agri-business
under the neo-fascist presidency of Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil is the clearest indication yet that rigid
notions of state sovereignty and insular nationalism are increasingly tantamount to planetary
suicide.

It is no surprise then that the new climate movements like XR call for a ‘transformation of the
political system, society and economy to ones which maximise well-being and minimise harm’.
Their key demand in this respect is for the constitution of citizen’s assemblies on climate change –
avenues for deliberative democracy with members from the public whose recommendations, arrived
at through transparent and inclusive processes including expert advice, will be binding on the
government.

While this is a nascent demand, the deliberative and participatory direction it points towards is an
important consideration as we think about how to extricate decision-making about humanity’s
future from the hands of destructive and willfully-blinded elites.

Centring climate justice

The new climate movements are increasingly centering the notion of justice in the fight against
climate change.

This includes the possibility of the repayment of ecological debts to countries in the Global South,
given the crisis is fundamentally a product of the high-carbon development path of rich nations over
centuries under conditions of colonialism involving the relentless plunder of the raw material and
natural resources of poorer nations at enormous ecological cost.

The United States, Canada, Europe, Japan and Australia alone have together contributed around 61
per cent of the total of carbon emissions to date. Ironically, the poorest nations (particularly those in
hotter, low latitude regions) that have done the least to contribute to the crisis are both heavily
financially indebted to financial institutions in the Global North and also facing the brunt of its
impact.

Centring justice in the climate movement is also critical because ecological imperialism and
environmental sabotage are facts of the present. Raw material extraction from poorer countries for
the sole purpose of enabling trade for rich economies (accounting for 40pc of raw material
extraction globally) continues unabated in the present, accelerating ecological damage and waste in
the Global South in the process.

Even as the reality of the climate crisis has entered public knowledge, the dominant response of
economic and military power structures in the North has been a greater emphasis on national and
border security, and the exploration of measures to increase their own economic and political
dominance.

Nowhere is this schizophrenic tendency more severe than in the US, which has rapidly expanded
fossil fuel production through fracking technology in recent years as a cornerstone of its national
security strategy. This process was initiated under President Barack Obama and accelerated
thereafter with the Trump presidency willfully dismantling most regulations limiting fossil fuel
expansion.

The US has now become the world’s leading fossil fuel producer in oil and natural gas, creating new
pipelines that have locked in billions of tons of new carbon emissions over subsequent decades, in
effect hastening ecological collapse.

Explore: In Thar, who matters more? Coal companies or Tharis?

The notion of climate justice is also important because of the unequal impacts of climate breakdown
within societies. Marx saw the expropriation of nature under capitalism as intimately connected to
the expropriation of human bodies and labour.

The commodification of nature has historically taken place in tandem with the usurpation of
common property, the dispossession of indigenous communities, the institution of exploitative
forms of labour relations or the exploitation of women’s labour under unequal relations of social
reproduction in the patriarchal household.

Today, the brunt of the impact of climatic instability is also being borne by ordinary workers,
farmers, women and minority groups suffering under natural disasters, infectious diseases, water
shortages and contamination, loss of livelihoods and rising food insecurity.

Thus, the process of reversing ecological damage must necessarily involve restitution for those who
have been its biggest casualties. This is part of the reasoning behind the Green New Deal proposals
to address the climate crisis, which call for a just transition for workers to a decarbonised economy,
through the creation of employment through state-led green manufacturing and infrastructure, as
well as increased social provisioning for health care, housing, water, education and social security.

This may also offer a path ahead for developing countries (including Pakistan) to overcome de-
industrialisation through public interventions tying ecological restoration to employment generation,
and expansion of public services and infrastructure.

Beyond the consumer-citizen

Finally, the new climate movements are calling for an overdue interrogation of current patterns of
consumption, particularly by the privileged, be it the rising, conspicuous consumption of luxury
commodities, dietary addictions to meat and dairy, or the overreliance on fuel-guzzling aviation.
The teenage activist Greta exemplified this impulse in her symbolic act of traveling from the UK to
New York by boat to address the United Nations General Assembly on the climate crisis.

This reasoning is now implicit on all the fronts of the ecological crisis; large-scale behavioural change
is necessary to avert disaster. However, it remains important to not fall into the trap of neoliberal
individualism when considering this principle.

Narrative: 8 things Pakistanis taught us about climate change

An emphasis on individual lifestyle changes rather than structural solutions has long been a
diversionary tactic used by capitalist interests to avoid any accountability of their own
disproportionate role in the crisis. Individual changes for ecologically-sensitive consumption alone
will do little to address the crisis in the absence of organised collective action and the transformation
of social and metabolic relations.

However, there is considerable merit in attempting to overcome the consumerist and competitive
model of the self that has gradually taken root under capitalism. In order to reduce high-carbon
patterns of industrial production, hold the powerful to account and push ecological restoration
through collective political action, the development of a new subjectivity of citizenship and selfhood
is essential, one that is based on a more naturally grounded, socially-embedded, inter-dependent
and cooperative conception of the self.

Towards ecological restoration and justice

The new climate movements represent hope; they are one of humanity’s last remaining attempts to
avoid ecological catastrophe.

However, the task before them is enormous and they have yet to become truly representative in
their composition or take root in the most affected societies. While the principal audience of these
movements are rich nations (those who actually wield the power and the responsibility to arrest the
collapse), there are urgent lessons countries like Pakistan need to take from this historical moment.

We remain committed to economic development strategies dependent on rising fossil fuel

emissions, production patterns (including sugar, rice and textiles) that waste, drain and contaminate
our scarce water resources, water management policies that have destroyed the Indus Delta and
downstream communities and urban expansion patterns that have accelerated deforestation,
destructive urban sprawl and mass destitution.
Related: Pakistan can produce renewable energy. So why do we continue to import pricey fossil
fuels?

Perhaps most riskily, the state has limited the authority for decision-making about our ecology to a
tiny civil-military elite and criminalised any questioning of the developmental consensus through
accusations of treason, even as it expropriates the resources of ethnic minorities from Balochistan to
Sindh and Gilgit-Baltistan.

Like other countries, Pakistan critically needs a strong climate justice movement that stands for
ecological restoration, an expansion of the commons, regional and international cooperation, justice
and restitution for exploited workers and communities, participatory and decentralised forms of
decision-making and a more naturally and socially conscious conception of citizenship and selfhood.

What is judicial populism and how does it work in Pakistan?

The populist judge seeks legitimacy by framing the judges’ role as championing the will of the
people.

Yasser KureshiPublished Feb 01, 2019 03:36pm

[Follow Prism on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram]

Former Chief Justice Saqib Nisar has been no stranger to the political capital gained from challenging
and defying Pakistan’s political elite.

“A new hero of society”, “[I]n terms of character, he walks tall. Real tall!” — these were the
headlines from 2010 when Justice Nisar stood with then-Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry, rejecting the
Pakistan People’s Party government’s offer to be appointed chief justice of the Lahore High Court.

In the last year, we regularly followed Justice Nisar as he oversaw the breathtaking expansion of the
Supreme Court’s jurisdiction into almost every aspect of Pakistan’s system of governance. His
overreach earned him the label of the populist chief justice.

Post-exit, the national conversation has been flooded with polarised opinions about the motives,
legitimacy and legacy of his populism, but Justice Nisar’s place in our history must be situated in a
broader debate about judicial populism, what it is and why it has found its way to the centre of our
national politics.

What is judicial populism?

If the activist judge is differentiated from the restrained judge based on how the outcomes of the
law over adherence to the text of the law and legal precedent are prioritised, the populist judge
embraces a more aggressive form of judicial activism, prioritising not only policy over precedent, but
also outcomes over processes.

The populist judge is unbound by precedent and procedure, interpreting away any constitutional
limitations on what the judge can and cannot do. However, legal precedent and procedure do not
merely act as restraints on the actions of the judges — they also imbue the actions of the judiciary
with legitimacy.

The populist judge instead seeks legitimacy by framing the judges’ role as championing the will of
the people against those that undermine that will. As former Chief Justice Jawwad S. Khawaja stated
“[J]udges of the Supreme Court are sitting here as representatives of the will of the people.”

Explore: Judicial independence is vital for democracy but judicial activism can be counterproductive

If the populist judge is championing the will of the people, like all populists, the question stands:
who are the ‘people’?

The unelected judge builds its conception of the people through the loudest voices within its
immediate social and professional networks: lawyers and the media.

Our bar associations are populated by urban middle-class lawyers who possess a potent combination
of disenchantment and efficacy.

Their disenchantment stems from being unable to realise the expectations of upward mobility and
the privilege that comes with it, in a pyramidal legal profession with an entrenched elite of powerful
and privileged law firms.

Their efficacy comes from their visibility in the courtrooms, in the bar rooms and through their
unique potential for collective action that was demonstrated during the Lawyers’ Movement.

They are frustrated by their limited professional fortunes and have the means to effectively voice
this frustration and pressure judges to pay heed to their concerns.
The urban middle-class, more broadly, is also disenchanted because of the inability to realise the
privileges of upward mobility and it is efficacious as the primary constituency for Pakistan’s new
media, which gains an audience through providing coverage to urban middle-class concerns.

Middle-class anger, both inside and outside the bar, is directed against elite privilege, most visibly
manifested through the ability to bypass bureaucratic and judicial procedures to which the rest of
society is subject.

Read next: First among equals

This anger is directed against the entrenched elites, the procedures that the elite seem to either
benefit from or bypass entirely and the personnel within the state institutions that allow the elites to
continue operating this way.

Therefore, the populist judge channels this anger to build legitimacy for his own expanding role. The
judge smashes past precedential and procedural restraints that seemingly entrench elite impunity
and impede middle-class empowerment, directs their rhetoric against the symbols of elite privilege
and deploys the symbols of anti-elite defiance.

This is not to say that the judges themselves do not often sincerely agree with many of the stances
they take, but this middle-class, as represented in the media and the bar, shapes the judge’s
conception of the people he or she claims to represent — and the elites he or she claims to oppose.

A judiciary that expands its role in Pakistan’s political system and liberates itself from constitutional
restraints on the basis of channelling public anger thrives on the inadequacies of Pakistan’s
bureaucratic and judicial institutions.

Critics of judicial populism have commented on the neglect of the Supreme Court in remedying the
sorry state of subordinate judiciary as it intervenes in other branches of government. However, the
superior judiciary derives its legitimacy from public frustration with the sorry state of the lower
courts.

Now read: Supreme Court & democracy

Just as the military used public outrage against the state of security in Pakistan after the Army Public
School attacks in 2014 to further expand its policing and judicial powers, the Supreme Court uses
public outrage against the state of Pakistan’s subordinate judicial bureaucracy to disregard
procedural limitations on its original jurisdiction and expand its authority over the issues lower
courts appear unable to deal with.

Where a member of the general public expects that it would take an impossible amount of time and
resources to get a fair hearing in the lower courts, writing a letter to a Supreme Court judge or
making a direct plea in front of a camera promises a simpler and more comprehensible route to
gaining access to justice.

Thus, the flip side of the sorry state of Pakistan’s lower courts is the expansion of the superior
judiciary’s role.

Finally, if judicial populists focus on confronting and defying the visible symbols of elite privilege and
impunity, then it is these symbols that will draw the greatest scrutiny.

Judges preceding Iftikhar Chaudhry and succeeding Saqib Nisar have all sought to burnish their
populist credentials by targeting these visible symbols: from political corruption to elite-controlled
bureaucratic and judicial appointments to real estate scams and price hikes that disproportionately
affect the middle-classes.

Up next: In Pakistan, justice is the title of an important person. Not an ideal of hope and fairness

These are the visible symbols of elite privilege that matter the most to the judges’ audiences. The
courts have rightly come under criticism from sections of the intelligentsia for focusing their scrutiny
on the political elite more than the military elite.

But the logic of populism also dictates that the judge prioritises challenging the political elite.
Through a combination of limited media coverage, institutionalised privileges and a legitimising
national security narrative, the symbols of military excess and impunity are simply made less visible
and more palatable for the urban middle-class and therefore less likely to generate the same
populist outrage.

Within the bar though, certain symbols of military privilege remain sources of outrage, including
military coups, interference in the judiciary, real estate scams, cantonment maladministration and
enforced disappearances. This dates back to the Musharraf years, when military power was naturally
a lot more visible.
Thus, even though the judiciary has not acted decisively against enforced disappearances or the
questionable practices of cantonment authorities, through their hearings and public statements they
maintain a rhetorical position that they are not willing to let these issues go.

And this is also why another populist judge, Justice Shaukat Siddiqui, in a bid to gain some legitimacy
against charges of judicial misconduct, positioned himself as a defiant challenger against an allegedly
military-controlled Supreme Court.

This defiance would gain him limited credibility outside the legal community today, but it continues
to resonate within sections of the bar.

Thus, Justice Nisar’s populism may have polarised opinion on the role of the judiciary, but it is not an
anomaly that will go away.

It is increasingly the norm of Pakistani judicial behaviour shaped by a legal culture that rewards
symbolic defiance and anti-elitism over adherence to procedure and precedent.

A favourite maxim in the Pakistani legal community is "not only must justice be done, it must be
seen to be done." For today’s populist judge, the question is who is ‘seeing’ it, and what does justice
look like in the eyes of the beholder.

What the Sahiwal shooting tells us about police culture

Police culture is as much a product of state policies as it is of social and cultural conditioning of
police officials.

Zoha WaseemUpdated Jan 22, 2019 12:57pm

Relatives of Khalil, who was killed along with his wife, daughter and driver in police firing, wail during
the funeral on Sunday.—Online

[Follow Prism on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram]

On Saturday, January 19, 2019, officials of the Counter-Terrorism Department (CTD) of Punjab Police
shot and killed a couple and their teenage daughter in Sahiwal, reportedly acting upon intelligence
that claimed the family was accompanied by a 'terrorist' — the family’s neighbour, Zeeshan.

Eye-witnesses of this incident include the three surviving children of Khalil and Nabeela. All victims
were unarmed.
The video footage from this incident was widely circulated, resulting in extensive outcry on social
media, as well as a lynching attempt on police officials by an angry mob in Lahore.

A joint investigation team (JIT) has been formed to probe into the incident and the prime minister,
while praising the CTD generally, has assured that ‘swift action will be taken’.

The Punjab governor has claimed the victims were ‘at the wrong place, at the wrong time’; the
Punjab law minister, meanwhile, has called them ‘collateral damage’.

Social media users, including journalists, have demanded the perpetrators ‘be hanged’. Others have
faulted the weaknesses in our criminal justice system — an area of particular interest to our new
chief justice.

Talk-show analysts have blamed ‘bad intelligence’, a connection that will be difficult to establish and
unlikely to result in proceedings against those responsible for its collection and dissemination.

Most observers have lashed out at the malpractices of, and abuse by, police officials at large. This
sentiment is likely to stick, no matter the outcome of the JIT report.

Editorial: A crime unpunished

The shooting in Sahiwal comes on the heels of a much-publicised police reforms event in the capital
and, more importantly, barely a year after the killing of Naqeebullah Mehsud and months after the
killings of Intizar Ahmed and Amal Umer in police encounters in Karachi — albeit under very
different circumstances.

Additionally, recent estimates by the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan suggest that
approximately 3,345 people have been killed in police encounters in the country between 2014 and
2018, including 12 minors.

The Sahiwal shooting is disturbing on multiple levels and, indeed, speaks volumes about police
practices and culture in Pakistan and beyond.

Such incidents cannot be justified or rationalised or explained away in any straightforward manner.
They are tragic outcomes of processes and institutional cultures that, similarly, cannot be simplified
nor understood in isolation of the socio-political contexts in which they evolve and develop.
In this regard, it is important to have a discussion on police culture, of which one aspect is police use
of force. It is pertinent to remind the reader that the police, in fact, do much more than use force.
Nevertheless, given the incident in question, it is central to this discussion.

Family members and neighbours of victims who were allegedly killed by the Counter Terrorism
Department in Sahiwal block Lahore's Ferozepur Road in protest against the killings.—White Star

A trigger-happy police force is a symptom of militarism institutionalised within state mechanisms

and apparatus.

This symptom has been visible not just in Pakistan, but also in the United States where debates
surrounding the militarisation of policing (a characteristic of which is trigger-happy police behaviour)
have been most prominent and their manifestations often violent, resulting in direct confrontations
between police and civilians.

In Pakistan, such militarisation has been exacerbated by the construction of 'terrorism' and
'terrorists' both pre- and post-9/11 that has implications for how the state directs and controls the
policing of its citizens.

In other words, a state’s threat perception — particularly one constructed based on domestic
security threats — has a direct correlation with how civilian police officials will interact with and view
civilians.

This is, quite briefly, the political context within which policing in Pakistan may be understood.

Related: 6 stories of police torture and abuse

That said, let us not forget that police culture is also as much a product of state policies as it is of the
social and cultural conditioning of police officials and the society in which these officials find
themselves. It is, after all, our own society that chooses to accept certain police killings as ‘good
riddance’ — like Malik Ishaq’s.

In other words, police culture is also a product of our society's depreciating levels of tolerance and
our own fascination with and glorification of vigilante justice, ‘encounter cops’, capital punishment
(‘hang them all’), capture and kill (‘pakro aur maaro’), all generations of warfare, boots and bombs,
even hypermasculinity.
It is no surprise that, through socialisation and professional grooming, such a prevailing ethos is then
imbibed by certain police officials and, by extension, absorbed into the institutional culture of our
police departments.

In-depth: How not to improve law and order in Karachi

Furthermore, from a historical perspective, police culture is also a product of several decades (if not
more) of poorly designed policies that have favoured zero-tolerance policing, and that have
gradually eroded public trust in civilian officials and compromised the legitimacy of our police
departments. This has steadily furthered the gap between the police and the policed in Pakistan.

It hasn’t helped that, over the last 70 years, police departments have remained poorly equipped,
their officials too poorly paid and surviving in miserable conditions, to deal with the magnitude and
multiplicity of violent conflicts that they have found themselves in, only to be raised repeatedly up to
the task of ‘fighting on the front lines’.

What such political, social and historical processes have constructed, then, is a complicated
relationship in which the institutions tasked with protecting civilians are as insecure of civilians as
the civilians are of the police.

The Sahiwal shooting was perhaps partially a product of this relationship.

Unfortunately, given how violence is embedded not just within policing but also our aggressive
reactions and calls for ‘hanging them all’, it is unreasonable to expect that a different sort of police
culture can emerge without, at the very least, generational struggles.

Death penalty in Pakistan: A colonial residue

Capital punishment was used extensively in colonial India by the British Empire to control its colonial
subjects.

Updated Oct 08, 2019 02:14pm

The following is an excerpt from Justice Project Pakistan’s (JPP) book, The Death Penalty in Pakistan:
A Critical Review, to be launched on July 11, 2019 in Islamabad. A culmination of 10 years of JPP’s
work, the book documents the many ways in which Pakistan's application of the death penalty
intersects with legal, social and political realities.
It focuses on how capital punishment impacts some of the most vulnerable populations: juveniles,
the mentally ill, persons with physical disabilities, low-wage migrant workers imprisoned in foreign
jails and the working class.

Relying on public records for multiple JPP clients sentenced to death, nearly a decade of experience
in the field, as well as extensive experience with legislation and advocacy, this book tracks the many
junctures at which violations occur, from arrest to sentencing to execution.

***

Colonial India (1858-1945)

As the Mughal Empire fell, the British took control and established the Indian subcontinent as its
colony until both Pakistan and India gained independence in 1947. Most of the laws and structures
currently in place in Pakistan including those related to criminal justice and the legal system date to
colonial times. While the British altered the modes of carrying out death sentences and made
hanging the norm,19 they also made it so that capital punishment was administered more readily
and frequently. Whereas the Mughals did not have many formal prison systems, the building of new
and improved prisons marked the entry of the British into the Indian subcontinent.20 In her book
Prisoner Voices from Death Row, Reena Mary George indicates, ‘Prisons continue to be located and
structured more or less as they were in colonial times. Any change that has been made has been
incorporated somewhat clumsily into the old system that basically served the triple colonial aims of
order, economy and efficiency’.21

The first formal placing of capital punishment in the legal system, though, came when the Governor-
General of the India Council enacted the Indian Penal Code in 1860.22 The law, drafted by a group of
Britishers making up the Law Commission, did not attempt to integrate any traditional Indian legal
systems and instead, as the historian David Skuy notes, ‘the entire codification practice represented
the transplantation of English law to India, complete with lawyers and judges’.23 Since English law at
the time was not itself uniform, this was a first attempt to create such a standard body of law. The
current Code of Criminal Procedure was introduced in 1898 but draws from the very first code of
1861 that followed the 1857 Indian rebellion.24 Its intent was to control Indians. Some of the
provisions in these laws are termed as ‘draconian or black laws’.25

In fact, these codes made the death penalty the automatic punishment for murder with life
imprisonment as the exception rather than vice versa.26 The primary justification of the death
penalty itself today stems from the time [the parts that now constitute] Pakistan was still a colony,
namely ‘the belief that common people can be made to obey the law only through fear instilled by
harsh punishment’.27 This belief persists despite reputable empirical evidence to the contrary and
influences public opinion on the death penalty to this day.

The book will be launched on July 11, 2019 in Islamabad

Along with increasing the number of convicts and prisons and instating harsh laws, the British
increased the number and frequency of executions in the country significantly. In fact, by the 1920s,
fearing that they were losing their grip on the Empire, the British executed an average of 3 people
every day.28 According to one scholar, Anderson, ‘capital punishment was used extensively in
colonial India by the British Empire to control its colonial subjects and reinforce its sovereignty’,
particularly ‘given to the lower caste and class’.29 This discriminatory trend persists to this day such
that a vast majority of those on death row are from marginalised communities with poor socio-
economic backgrounds. Time and again, scholars indicate that executions helped ‘consolidate
imperial rule and eradicate resistance against it’.30 These often took the form of public spectacles to
dissuade dissenters and others from rising up. One example is the blowing up of Indian soldiers by
cannons for mutiny.

These public displays, in fact, sometimes drew from the harsh means of executions used by the
Mughals before them. Other than these public spectacles, hangings for common crimes from murder
to theft to refusal to work were also used to teach the colonised a ‘lesson’.31 While the actual
number of executions was roughly the same in Britain and India, the difference was that these
deaths were public and directly a way to assert dominance and repress insubordination to curb
challenges to the British Raj. And though there are multiple cases where the British commuted
capital punishment, they often did this in face of a worse punishment of transportation and
indentured servitude elsewhere, believing that forcing Indians to move would severely affect their
religious practices, funerary rights, and caste structures, and thereby constitute a form of social
death.32 Often, the British would use the bodies of dead prisoners for research – medical or
otherwise. These routine post-mortems became one of the sets of grievances that led to the Great
Indian Rebellion of 1857.33

At the same time, the British put in place numerous due process guarantees. As part of several
reform movements in 1837, the Colonial Office sought to reconcile law on capital punishment in
England with that in the colonies, but inconsistencies remained.34 As Britain sought to prove its
‘civilizing’ mission, the push for reforms intensified, but in many ways, this did not reach the colonies
they were intended to benefit and the ‘theater of execution’ continued in the Indian
subcontinent.35 When makeshift gallows were proved prone to botched executions, the British,
under heavy criticism, set up new and improved ones. However, problems persisted: ‘the drop was
often too short, and criminals were on occasion hanged weighed down with heavy fetters on their
legs’.36

The death penalty in England itself was inherently problematic. Seeing its rise in the industrial era, a
sentence of death was the penalty for hundreds of offences from pickpocketing to cutting down a
tree to being out at night with a black face to rape and murder.37 It was only after sustained
activism that the death penalty was narrowed down by 1861 from 200 offences to 4.
So, what comes after the IMF?

Should we ignore much-needed underlying reforms, we are destined to be stuck in this vicious cycle.

Shahrukh WaniUpdated Sep 26, 2019 03:49pm

It has been a few weeks since we — the collective we, that is — and the International Monetary
Fund (IMF) entered into a staff-level agreement, paving the way for a multi-billion dollar bailout,
marking the 22nd such occasion.

As it should, the deal has been followed by a vibrant public debate. Primetime news anchors, op-ed
columnists and the twitterati have pondered upon the impact of the devalued rupee, higher interest
rate, more taxes and lower government spending.

All of these questions are warranted and they should demand our time and attention. However,
there are two substantially more critical questions we need to ask ourselves.

First, why do we keep getting into a dire-enough condition that we need an IMF bailout? And
second, what can we do so that we’re not in such a position again?

Related: Pakistan's debt policy has brought us to the brink. Another five years of the same is
unsustainable

I have already given my thoughts on the first question, which I hold is fundamentally due to the
extractive nature of our country's political institutions that incentivise politicians to grant patronage
to firms rather than establish fair competition in the economy and create short time-horizons for
politicians because of instability in maintaining a democratic political system.

I continue to believe that we need to redistribute political power more fairly in order to unlock
transformative economic change.

That aside, in this article, I make my contribution to the second question and outline a few policy
directions and reforms to increase domestic productivity, so that we don’t end up with the IMF
again.

Before going forward, I will add a caveat: there is unlikely to be any single answer to such large
policy questions; at best we have a variety of answers which we can experiment with, and learn
from. That is what good policy-making entails.
At a familiar place

Let’s recap. We were largely in this position not so long ago, and not long before that. So, what did
we do to get back into the same position again? The answer lies in our idea of growth. To illustrate, I
will rewind to 2013.

We got an IMF loan which did what it was meant to do — averted a balance of payments crisis,
stabilised the economy and allowed us to leverage the stability for more borrowed capital. This
allowed us to pay for our imports.

We combined it with other loans, particularly domestic ones, so the government could spend more
without substantially raising more taxes.

We used the increase in foreign reserves to overvalue the rupee, which essentially meant that we
subsidised imports by making them cheaper. It also made our exports more expensive.

This helped boost the consumption of mainly imported goods, which drives up economic growth,
measured as increasing gross domestic product (GDP).

In essence, people bought more stuff and the government got capital to spend on some large-ticket
infrastructure projects, some on hiring more people and some on subsidies.

Also read: Pakistan downed an Indian jet — but the economy is the real battleground

Everything looks good on paper unless you read it closely — but who really does that?

This created a bad set of incentives for firms as they would have found more profit in acquiring
import licences rather than investing in capacity to export, or simply moving their investment
towards non-tradable sectors.

For example, think about the growth in real estate that lured many textile firms to move investment
away from expanding their manufacturing capacity and towards the property market.

But the problem with real estate is that you can’t export it.
This is in no way exclusive to the past five years or so, but a wider reality of our growth story that
continues to be dominated by the non-tradable sector — the part of the economy that can neither
substitute imports nor produce goods or services that can be exported: real estate, retail and
construction.

In 1995, for example, we exported about $11.6 billion of goods and services — that’s about $95 for
each Pakistani. By 2017, our exports jumped to just over $21 billion, or $108 for each Pakistani.

In contrast, Bangladesh pushed its per-capita exports from about $20 to about $164 during the same
period.

We have been left behind; it is time to change that.

What can we do about it?

If we need to export more, substantially more, then how do we do it?

The answer lies, in my view, on increasing domestic productivity — that is, how much output our
economy can produce given a set of inputs.

In other words, how much resources do you need — people, money and materials — to produce a
good or provide a service?

For example, if a factory in Faisalabad were to produce a t-shirt and a factory in Dhaka is producing
the same type of t-shirt — how much time and resources will each need to produce that product?

So far, our growth model has mainly focused on the accumulation of physical assets, such as building
roads and factories, but not the broader investments needed to increase productivity.

No wonder it is estimated that only 11 per cent of our GDP growth between 1998 and 2008 was due
to an increase in productivity. It is not that physical assets aren’t important for us — they are — but
growth is more than just roads.

Even the agriculture sector has been unable to sustain an increase in productivity. Growth in the
sector has been mainly driven by an increase in inputs rather than efficiency in using these inputs.
Domestic productivity is also intrinsically tied with trade. Economists have found evidence that
increasing trade raises domestic productivity; when firms trade with foreign firms, the competition
forces them to be more productive or die out. On the other hand, you need higher domestic
productivity to make your products competitive globally.

Explore: Pakistan's electricity generation has increased over time. So why do we still not have
uninterrupted supply?

So if we want to increase domestic productivity, how do we do it? Here are a few areas to think
about.

First, we desperately need to invest in building the institutional structures conducive to an increase
in domestic productivity.

Let’s start with the basics. The rule of law and secure property rights are essential to productive
societies and are worthy of significant public investment.

It needs to be made certain that when you, or a firm, make an agreement, the law will make sure it
is fulfilled. Or, when you buy a property, it is reasonably protected from theft and can be used by the
owner effectively. For this, reforms are needed of our courts, laws and the police force.

Second, there needs to be significant public investment in human capital, an important element in
increasing domestic productivity.

We currently fare poorly. The World Bank’s Human Capital Index, which tries to capture human
capital a child born today is expected to gain by the time he or she turns 18, puts us below our
regional and income-level average.

This means that, even compared to countries of similar income level, we are failing to invest in our
people.

A large part of human capital is schooling, but much of it is beyond that and includes various other
types of skills and attributes that allow people to achieve their potential.

This requires Pakistan to continue its investments in basic education while making sure that these
years in school are translating into tangible learning outcomes for students.
This should be combined with an increase in the quality and quantity of post-secondary education
through investing in both traditional undergraduate programmes and non-traditional programmes
that allow people to gain skills faster.

Research and development spending adds on to this, making it an important part of the human
capital stock of a country.

Greater human capital also allows people and firms to adapt to new technology, which in itself is an
important part of boosting productivity.

Evaluate: The PML-N made bold claims in its 2013 manifesto. How many of those promises did it
keep?

Third, we need to re-evaluate the government's protection of firms, and in some cases entire
sectors.

Presently, we run the risk of creating a poor set of incentives for firms as they can rely on subsidies
and other forms of state-granted protection to generate profits, rather than increase their
productivity.

The sugar industry and automobile sector are the most clear examples of this ‘protection’, but it is
not limited to them. Several other firms and sectors also receive special tax breaks (through
statutory regulatory orders) or frequent ‘packages’ from the government.

These protections can lead to misallocation of labour and capital. In other words, we are keeping
people (and money) in sectors that aren’t productive enough. This misallocation makes all of us
worse off by reducing our combined productivity.

Ideally, these poor performing firms should either improve their performance, or die out and allow
people and capital to move towards better performing firms.

If our goal with these subsidies is to help the poor, it is hardly the way to do it. Instead, this revenue
could be redirected towards targeted social welfare programmes that don’t lead to misallocation in
the market.
This is not to say that we shouldn’t have a policy to protect specific industries, but such policies need
to be designed carefully and not allow patronage relationships to develop.

Learn more: Pakistan can produce renewable energy. So why do we continue to import pricey fossil
fuels?

Fourth, we need to make an integrated and coherent move to invest in cities. By creating vibrant
cities that bring people and firms together in dense environments, we can unlock significant
productivity gains.

Some of these gains will be due to more people moving away from agriculture and into
manufacturing and services, which are more productive activities and are primarily undertaken in
cities.

The rest will be due to gains from density. This is done by bringing people and firms close to each
other; cities allow for sharing of ideas and unlock the ability of people and firms to specialise. Both
lead to higher productivity.

However, these gains are going to be untapped if we don’t actively invest in building the institutions
and infrastructure cities need not only for the population already living there, but also the people
who can move from rural areas.

This requires independent and empowered urban governments who can provide public services and
undertake context-specific policy decisions, particularly those that can help build a stock of
knowledge through schooling, research and attracting skilled people, and housing them in high-
density settlements.

Even though we currently lack many elements of vibrant cities, they are still more productive than
rural areas. One measure of this is that our cities, while home to 38pc of our population, count for
about 55pc of our GDP.

An added advantage of vibrant and empowered cities is that they are best placed to enforce
property taxes. These taxes can be used to discourage speculative investment in this non-tradable
sector, which has accumulated significant capital over the past few years.

Looking forward
Should we ignore these underlying reforms, we are destined to continue to be stuck in this vicious
cycle which is pushing us from one IMF loan to another.

For this, our policy needs to move away from merely fire fighting. At the risk of oversimplifying, think
about this:

If our house bursts into flames every few years, we certainly need to put the fire out, but we also
need to ask ourselves what keeps causing this fire and make the necessary changes to prevent it.

Illustration by Rajaa Moini

The poor scope of higher education in Naya Pakistan

Students and teachers are being talked about in policies, but are never part of the conversation

Tania SaeedUpdated Oct 01, 2019 04:41pm

The Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaaf (PTI) completed its one year in government on 18 August, 2019. This
article presents part two of a systematic evaluation of the party’s education policy and performance
so far, focusing on higher education. You can read the first part on primary and secondary education
here.

In his commencement speech in 1999 at the American University in Cairo, Edward Said asked an
important question to his captivated audience: “Can the university survive as a real university if its
governance and teaching mission become the objects of scrutiny and direct interference, not of its
teachers, but of powers outside the university?”

Twenty years on, an answer to this question can be found in the state of higher education in
Pakistan that has suffered from political interference for decades, where any form of critical
engagement and political activism has been criminalised if not violently crushed, as seen in the
horrific murder of Mashal Khan. Discrimination against ethnic minorities has become a norm.
Creativity is only valued through short-sighted quantifiable measures and higher learning is replaced
by indoctrination.

In evaluating the PTI’s performance on higher education, one needs to be aware of the existing
context in the country. While Said’s ideal of a real independent university is nothing short of a
fantasy especially in Pakistan today, the possibility of making the institution more egalitarian
through strategic reforms has been completely compromised in this one year.
Read next: Either be in power or be a subject to it — Pakistani schools as mediums to perpetuate
obedience

Any possibility of reform has been weakened through unconscionable budget cuts to the Higher
Education Commission (HEC) in line with the austerity measures imposed by the International
Monetary Fund’s bailout package for Pakistan.

Pakistani students are the ones bearing the brunt of these budget cuts. Academic jobs have become
more precarious. The fundamental debate about the meaning of universities as critical institutions of
higher learning that should form the starting point of any strategy on higher education, especially in
a Naya Pakistan, does not exist.

So what is the PTI’s policy on higher education? A comprehensible policy framework that specifically
addresses higher education is yet to be drafted. The government in its annual plan is guided by the
vision and goals of its 2018 election manifesto.

Therefore, the Annual Plan 2019-20 as drafted by the Ministry of Planning, Development and Reform
that includes a section on higher education can be the best indicator of policy thinking and planning
for higher education in Pakistan under the PTI. Whether the government follows through remains to
be seen.

The manifesto

For the PTI, education is part of the three Es – employment and engagement being the remaining
two – that were promised to young Pakistanis. Their vision is in line with a “human capital”
approach, similar to Vision 2025 that had been drafted under the previous government.

The PTI's vision can be categorised under quality, financial support, national-international networks
and technical and vocational skills.

Targeting quality: Focusing on research, the PTI aimed to incentivise research quality based on
international benchmarks against quantity or volume of research. It aimed to remove political
influence in the higher education sector by creating independent and transparent mechanisms for
the selection of vice chancellors and senior administrators. It aimed to regulate university curriculum
in order “to include compulsory courses on communication, reasoning, IT literacy as well as
instruction in social sciences.”
Financial support: The PTI aimed to provide public scholarships. It planned to set up a national
endowment fund for international universities providing opportunities for international and
distance-learning in tertiary education.

National-international networks: It aimed to recruit foreign university graduates from Pakistan to

teach and supervise research in local universities. It envisioned partnerships with international
universities for the purpose of improving teaching and research quality. With the support of the
Ministry of Foreign Affairs, it aimed to promote foreign placement of talented Pakistanis. Locally, the
PTI also aimed to set up a national programme that could provide practical training to graduates in
public and private organisations.

Technical and vocational education: The size and scope of skill development and vocational training
programmes were to be doubled. Ten technical universities were to be established across Pakistan
and existing ones were to be upgraded according to international standards. Public-private
partnerships were proposed with foreign technical universities and providers to offer specialised,
high-quality training. Vocational training programmes were to be expanded to provide high quality
skills to post-secondary students while creating partnerships with local industries and foreign
governments to seek employment for vocational and technical graduates.

In short, the PTI’s vision is in line with its emphasis on human capital focused on making university
graduates competitive in the local and international market.

Higher education

The main focus of the annual plan for 2018-19 was increasing access to higher education, improving
its quality and making academic research more relevant to "national needs."

In that time, the number of universities increased from 188 to 195, with enrolment at 1.6 million
against the projected 1.9 million. The annual plan also highlights the achievement of Pakistani
universities in relation to world ranking systems, the quantity of faculty publications and the
approval of four new national centres related to the field of technology.

The plan for 2019-20 is to develop a tiered system of universities with Tier 1 focused on high quality
local universities becoming “world class institutions through greater autonomy and additional
financial support.” Tier 2 will include the remaining universities, while colleges are supposed to be
part of Tier 3. Such a three-tiered system was suggested by the HEC in 2017 as well and is part of
their Vision 2025.

A task force on “technology driven knowledge development” has also been established. The task
force will continue to work under the leadership of the prime minister proposing interventions to
promote the knowledge economy. In fact, the plan focuses a great deal on emerging and new
technologies, in order to embrace what it calls “the 4th Industrial revolution.” The establishment of
new universities will only be undertaken after a needs assessment.

Related: In hopes of providing an education beyond textbooks, I discovered the power of

questioning

The HEC will further ensure that funds are invested towards existing universities, with a fully
functioning quality enhancement cell. The plan also proposes setting up a programme, called the
Assistance Governance and Access in Higher Education for Quality Enhancement, with the assistance
of the World Bank to improve academic excellence through support to students and researchers
across universities and affiliated colleges.

The plan also emphasises the importance of balancing investment in both technology and the arts
and humanities and proposes the establishment of a social science arm under the Pakistan Academy
of Sciences. Yet, there is an overwhelming emphasis on technological skills and education.

Universities are also encouraged to generate resources and collaborate locally and globally to reduce
dependence on public funds. Under the human resource development scheme, funds have been
allocated for local and foreign scholarships, while also emphasising on research and development for
universities across the country.

The budget under the Public Sector Development Program 2019-20 for the HEC is Rs28,646.882
million, which includes Rs25,777.706 million for ongoing and Rs2,869.176 million for new schemes.
The task force on technology driven knowledge development will be provided Rs4.297 billion for its
projects.

The implementation reality

Unless there is a u-turn plan, the annual plan provides a good indicator of how this government has
been thinking about higher education. There are contradictions that need to be carefully examined.

A lot has already been written about the budget cuts that could lead to nearly 10-15 per cent cuts in
the recurrent expenditure of the HEC and up to 50pc in development expenditures. The HEC’s
chairman and vice chancellors of various universities across Pakistan have requested the
government to review and rethink this budget. The students who hold the potential for Pakistan’s
bright future and are at the centre of PTI’s vision have been protesting against these budget cuts, as
have academics.
Universities have already been asked to re-evaluate priorities within their institutions and look for
alternative sources of funds. Far from ensuring independence of universities, in a context where
government universities are not well equipped for fund raising activities, such alternative sources of
funds may further compromise the independence of these universities.

Universities will also be reprioritising the focus of their budget towards largely marketable subjects,
which despite the disclaimer in the annual plan, could undermine the value of critical engagement
through the arts, humanities, and in some cases, social sciences.

A three-tiered system as proposed in the annual plan is going to create greater inequality in access
to quality higher education in a resource deprived sector, with massive budget cuts. There is a
likelihood, given these cuts, that the government may rethink or delay such a system, which is
necessary as it will undermine any plans for equality in quality education in this sector.

Another contradiction is this drive towards “world class” status while being “nationally relevant.”
The idea of a ‘world class’ university as judged by external bodies, based on an external criteria that
places little or no emphasis on the context within which these universities exist, questions the extent
to which such a ranking system yields a fair assessment of universities across the world. The same
holds true for rankings locally.

The need to compete with such universities compromises the importance of focusing on what is
needed locally – investment in quality teaching across the sector, not confined to a specific tier.

Analysis: Why haven’t past education reforms had more effect?

Research, while important, cannot be measured through the quantity of outputs. This is further
problematic in the arts, humanities and social sciences where metrics for research output are being
uniformly adopted by quality enhancement cells that are ill equipped to recognise the diversity in
learning and knowledge across disciplines.

The focus on a ‘fourth Industrial Revolution’ also seems misguided for a country that still needs to
strengthen its basic infrastructure of electricity, safe drinking water, sanitation, air pollution and the
climate emergency. This is not to undermine the importance of technological innovation, but such
strategies need to grow in accordance with the reality on the ground, not be the driving force of the
entire strategy.

The HEC has had its set of problems as outlined elsewhere. The role of the provincial higher
education commissions remains unresolved. Going back to Said’s question, the idea of a centralised
body regulating universities is one that also comes with its own set of problems, but one that in the
Pakistani context cannot be changed without a concrete alternative. But what one can take from
Said’s question is his focus on teachers, and I would add students.

Teachers and students are the main stakeholders who need to be involved in decisions that affect
them in universities. In what has been described in this article, students and teachers are being
talked about in these policies, but are never part of the conversation (with the exception of a few
regulars).

The difficulties both students and teachers face in colleges and universities, which includes the day
to day bureaucracies and hierarchies that stand in the way of creativity, are not being addressed.
The lived experiences of students that range from problems of sexual harassment, to lack of
opportunities, to mental health issues are still taboo. In short, the experience of being a student
rather than just another number in the university is never taken into account in any assessment of
quality or learning.

One year on, the PTI has the opportunity to re-evaluate its approach to higher education, to
reconsider the drastic budget cuts that will harm students and teachers and take them on board as it
decides their future through its policies.

Is education a priority for the PTI?

The government is yet to have an implementable policy on the matter.

Tania SaeedUpdated Aug 29, 2019 04:54pm

The Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaaf (PTI) completed its one year in government last week.

This article undertakes a systematic evaluation of the party's education policy and performance so
far, through a two-part analysis on schooling and higher education. This first part evaluates the PTI’s
policies and performance in relation to primary and secondary education.

The policy

In line with its predecessors, the PTI government continued with a "human capital" approach to
education, in its effort to "unleash" the untapped potential of the second youngest population in the
world.

Improving access and quality of educational institutions was considered central in capturing this
potential, also reinforced through its party manifesto. A national task force on education comprising
of experts from across different sectors was formed for this purpose.
The PTI’s more focused agenda for education outlined four priority areas in its National Education
Policy Framework (NEPF) 2018: decrease the number of out of school children (OOSC) and increase
school participation, ensure a uniform education system across Pakistan, improve quality and
enhance access and relevance of skills training.

Priority 1 — OOSC: The first objective was to address the challenge of the 22.5 million OOSC. This
number includes more girls than boys, with differences across class and geographical location. This
number was particularly high at the secondary level. An additional problem was of student retention
which also varied across and within provinces, urban centres and rural areas.

In order to address this problem, the PTI government proposed key actions related to school
infrastructure, finance, the formulation of innovative solutions, the promotion of non-formal
programs and utilisation of technology.

School infrastructure included consolidating primary, middle and high school in order to maximise
the use of existing schools, introducing afternoon shifts in cases of school shortages, improving
facilities in schools to ensure retention and attract more students, establishing either new schools or
upgrading existing schools, providing transportation in remote areas to attract more students and
operationalising unused public building for schools.

Related: Education means more than just job prospects — and Pakistanis know that

Finance included removing financial barriers through cash transfers under the Benazir Income
Support Programme, improving the existing provision of stipends to girls for transition to secondary
schooling, providing immediate and necessary funds to provinces for the purpose of ensuring
education access in disadvantaged areas and improving coordination with the finance department to
ensure efficient and timely transfer and utilisation of education budgets.

Innovative solutions included starting programs like Taleemi Razakar/Teach for Pakistan, while non-
formal programmes were to be further strengthened and communities mobilised to get OOSC back
in school.

Technology was to be used for improving teacher and student knowledge, to provide free education
online, as well as for improving access to education in remote areas and for improving the education
management systems.

Priority 2 — uniform education system: The second objective was to address the problem of a
uniform education for all that could ensure equality in quality across the three systems of schooling
in Pakistan — public, private and madrassa.
This was to be achieved through the selection of a common curriculum framework and the
establishment of a national curriculum council, streamlining national teaching and learning
standards, ensuring the teaching of core subjects, ensuring a multi-lingual policy with English as the
second language, strengthening regulatory bodies to ensure coordination across the different school
systems, ensuring a common assessment and examination mechanism while enhancing the capacity
of the National Education Assessment System as well as the Inter Board Committee of Chairmen
(IBCC), raising awareness about the quality of government school education through campaigns and
reforms and strengthening community action through the dissemination of education information.

Priority 3 — improve quality: Education quality was linked to the problem of quality instruction and
teacher training programmes.

In order to overcome this problem, the focus was on improving teacher management by recruiting
teachers with a strong background in math, science and english while ensuring continuous
professional development of teachers for the purpose of multi-grade teaching, building political will
around teacher certification and licencing reforms, ensuring a fair and equitable process of teachers
placement, ensuring implementation of early childhood education and development, strengthening
existing student and quality assessments as well as introducing national student assessment surveys,
ensuring the availability of teaching and learning resources and their utilisation in schools and
increasing access to information about nutrition and stunting for mothers and students.

Priority 4 — enhance access and relevance of skills training: Strengthening the technical and
vocational education sector was also an important priority for this government.

This was going to be undertaken through a common certification framework, promoting public
partnerships with industry, the private sector and donors, including setting up industry-led skills
councils, increasing the number of skilled workers in priority areas for economic growth, promoting
the "skills brand" through campaigns, strengthening and improving quality and the institutional
framework of this sector and introducing a national skills information system to ensure better
student placement and planning.

For all these four priority areas, the government was to track and monitor results, ensuring that their
objectives were met. Translating this policy framework into implementable policies is a task that the
PTI has yet to undertake, though different provinces have started drafting their own implementation
plans.

While this policy framework informs the entire tenure of this government, and not simply its first
year in power, an effective implementation plan is nonetheless needed for any of these objectives to
be fulfilled.
The implementation madness

The extent to which education is a priority for the PTI government can be gauged from the annual
budget for 2019-2020, which was drastically reduced across primary, secondary and higher
education.

The lack of clarity in their education agenda is evident in the breakdown of the education budget:
Education Affairs and Services have a reduced budget estimate of Rs77,262 million against Rs97,155
million in revised estimates from 2018-19.

84.4 per cent of this budget has been allocated to the Tertiary Education Affairs and Services to meet
Priority 4 of the government’s education objectives, in order to push its human capital approach.
Yet, the higher education budget has been slashed, with pressure placed on students to meet the
financial responsibility.

While the second part of this evaluation next week will explore the PTI's higher education policy, it is
important to highlight that the government’s objective of ensuring education equality in quality has
been largely compromised through these cuts.

Budget cuts for the Pre-Primary and Primary Education Affairs Services from Rs10,120 million in
revised 2018-19 estimates to an alarmingly low amount of Rs2,831 million in 2019-20 and from
Rs12,358 million in revised 2018-19 estimates to Rs6,718 million in 2019-20 for the Secondary
Education Affairs and Services undermines the government’s ability to meet its primary priorities as
outlined in the NEPF 2018.

Protecting the 18th Amendment

The long-term success of any education reform in Pakistan depends on strengthening the capacity of
provincial governments’ education departments as per the 18th Amendment and thereby ensuring
the implementation of Article 25A, which was the underlying objective of the NEPF.

Provincial governments under the 18th Amendment have the responsibility of implementing
education policy and reforms, according to the needs of their respective provinces. However, the
existing trust deficit between the federal ministry and the provinces has implications for education
reforms in the country.

Capacity building includes support for the various curriculum and textbook boards, teacher training
institutions, assessment and examination wings across the provinces, without interfering or
undermining the autonomy of each provincial education department.
While the focus of this analysis is on PTI’s education policy, the state of education and reform at the
provincial level also needs to be examined, particularly in light of the NEPF’s objective of educational
uniformity.

Read next: Why haven’t past education reforms had more effect?

The Punjab government has introduced its education policy under the New Deal 2018-2023. Despite
the claim of the chief minister that education was ignored in this province for the last 70 years,
Punjab is at an advantage having benefitted from reform efforts since as early as 2003. These efforts
were successful to an extent, though success rates varied across districts.

The PTI may claim the newness of the 2018-2023 deal, yet the objectives of reducing OOSC numbers,
ensuring quality education through textbook reform and teacher training, focusing on early
education and pre-primary education, improving examination and evaluation and building the
capacity of the education sector is similar to the objectives of the previous government, which also
ensures the continuity of reform policy — a continuity that is important for strengthening the
education sector.

Given the strength of its existing infrastructure, the Punjab government has the most detailed
implementation plan compared to the other provinces, with the School Education Department
having developed a comprehensive action plan for delivery against its set targets for the next four
years.

This is an important achievement especially given the nature of uncertainty that the department has
witnessed in its first eight months with the dismissal and appointment of seven secretaries of higher
education and four secretaries for school education.

The government’s priorities in relation to curricular and textbook reform remains to be seen, as new
textbooks will be introduced for the 2020 academic year in line with the province’s own curriculum,
with science and math textbooks being developed in Urdu till grade five.

In Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP), education reforms under the PTI provincial government had some
success. Education in different parts of the province had suffered from neglect at various points in
the past two decades, a consequence of the security situation.
However, as highlighted by Alif Ailaan in its analysis of KP education reforms for the last five years,
the province has witnessed improvements in school infrastructure and teacher training and
recruitment.

The government, though, plans to continue focusing on reducing OOSC, increasing enrollment for
girls at the secondary level, improving student learning outcomes by improving quality in teaching
and learning, ensuring better allocation of budget and addressing regional disparity in provision and
access to education within the province.

Also read: A case for promulgating ethics education in Pakistani schools

In evaluating the state of education in Balochistan, Alif Ailaan highlights extreme inequality as the
defining feature of the education landscape. Given the security situation, education provision
drastically varies across the province. Under the previous government's education reforms, some
gains have been made in relation to teacher recruitment and slight improvement in the provision of
post-primary education.

However, the problem of teacher absenteeism continues. To improve access to education, the
Balochistan government will be upgrading 147 government schools and making 1,800 schools
functional.

While the focus of this article is on the PTI, it is worth mentioning that implementation of any policy
driven from the NEPF will only be successful if the provincial government is on board, which is
equally true for Sindh.

Without addressing the increasing trust deficit between the federal and Sindh governments,
educational reforms may suffer, especially in light of the push towards uniformity of the education
system across Pakistan.

While the Sindh government has proposed its own education road map, the recent reshuffling of the
Sindh ministries may impact implementation. Such political tensions are only going derail education
reform efforts on the ground.

Policies of provincial governments towards reducing the number of OOSC by providing access to
quality education, in line with Priorities 1 and 3 of the NEPF, is already being implemented through
education reform efforts of the previous governments. However, Priority 2 may pose a challenge
depending on how the federal government plans on implementing it.
Uniformity and the medium of instruction

The objective of a uniform education system is to overcome existing disparity between the different
education systems. For the PTI government, one way of ensuring uniformity is through a uniform
curriculum and language, where Urdu is being promoted as the medium of instruction and English
taught as a second language.

The implementation of such an objective, the importance of balancing the strengths and weaknesses
of these different educational institutions and the capacity of provincial education departments
without compromising quality remains to be seen.

However, the idea of uniformity that is being promoted also needs to be further examined by the PTI
government. If uniformity is in relation to the human capital approach towards education, in which
the objective of education is directly linked to the demands of the market, then uniformity is related
to equality in opportunity, one that can be achieved through improvement in quality and which does
not always equate with uniformity.

Perspective: In hopes of providing an education beyond textbooks, I discovered the power of

questioning

While uniformity is a noble ideal, until the existing problems as highlighted in the government’s
priority areas 1, 3 and 4 are not addressed, such uniformity may not be possible. This is not to
dismiss the important task of improving quality education across the sector.

The objective of uniformity further becomes problematic if the trust deficit between the provincial
and provincial governments is not addressed. The danger that such interventions by the federal
government may undermine the sanctity of the 18th Amendment is a cause of concern for the
provincial governments.

It is, therefore, in the interest of the federal Ministry of Education to include provincial education
departments in drafting and implementing their policies and from setting up a national task force on
education that should be representative of all provinces (including Gilgit Baltistan and Azad Jammu
and Kashmir that were not discussed in this article), to setting the objective of a national curriculum
and to debating the medium of instruction especially in relation to the different capacities of teacher
training departments across the provinces.

Moving forward

The PTI in its first year in government is yet to have a clear, implementable education policy. The
ambitions and priorities set out in NEPF are further compromised under the government’s austerity
measures that have increasingly targeted education through budget cuts, that have resulted in
greater inequality in access to education, undermining efforts towards ensuring quality education for
all.

Added to this are disruptions within provincial education departments with change in leadership and
political tensions that also undermine the critical continuity in education reform.

It is also important to recognise that, while the importance of education for the purpose of
employability in the market cannot be overlooked, especially in this economy, education at the same
time should not be limited to the market.

The importance of the arts and humanities need to be recognised in primary and secondary
education. The critical skills that are developed, that allow students to think beyond the limits of a
set curriculum, are only possible through a holistic approach to education, where the arts and
humanities are just as central as the sciences.

The extent to which the PTI government moving forward will consider this important in the age of
austerity remains to be seen; but the potential of the Pakistani youth can be unleashed in different
ways, not just to serve the market. This one year should be an opportunity of introspection for the
PTI government before it moves forward.

Rethinking urbanisation: What's wrong with development in Pakistan?

Pakistan doesn't suffer from a lack of development, but from flaws in the model of its pursuit.

Danish KhanUpdated May 29, 2019 06:17pm

The key implicit assumption in the mainstream development theory is that urbanisation is a
manifestation of a transition to ‘modernity’.

This understanding is primarily derived from the urbanisation experiences of the countries of the
Global North. That is, the industrial revolution allowed European/North American economies to
produce large surpluses in the agriculture sector with the introduction of new production
techniques.

Thus, in the expectation of higher wages in the industry, erstwhile rural folks moved to cities. This
rural-urban migration did two things: one, it ensured continuous supply of labour and second, it kept
a downward pressure on wages in the industry.

As a result, the owners of industries did not only amass profits, but they were also incentivised to
reinvest their capital to expand the production capabilities of their national economies.
According to mainstream neoclassical economic theory, urbanisation is a by-product of industrial
development and it is pareto optimal, i.e. everyone's a winner. Workers get higher wages, industrial
capitalists accrue huge sums of profits and the agriculture sector gets modernised.

In other words, urbanisation is welfare-enhancing for all socio-economic classes in the society.

That is why in traditional economic theory, the magnitude of urbanisation is considered a good
approximation of the level of development in a country.

Related: How cities and urbanisation have become favoured subjects for artistic expressions

Policy makers in Pakistan are inspired by this neoclassical account of urbanisation and they tend to
assume that Pakistan is undergoing a somewhat similar urban transition.

But there are some glaring omissions in the neoclassical accounts of urbanisation — dispossession of
landless and small peasants and the formation of urban slums — which are critical to understanding
the processes of urbanisation in Pakistan.

Therefore, policy makers in Pakistan need to take neoclassical theories of urbanisation with a grain
of salt.

Pakistan is one of the fastest urbanising countries in the region. As it undergoes urban
transformation, it faces a dual contradiction.

On the one hand, urbanisation has the potential to open up new avenues for economic development
via agglomeration economies, positive externalities and knowledge-spillovers.

At the same time, urbanisation can further perpetuate socio-economic inequities and conflicts, along
with accelerated ecological degradation.

Contrary to the neoclassical account, Pakistan continues to urbanise while its share of industry has
remained stagnant at around 20 per cent for the last three decades.

Meanwhile, decline in the share of the agriculture sector is being compensated by the rise of the low
value-addition service sector.
In other words, urbanisation is not a by-product of industrialisation in the context of Pakistan.

Also read: Cities, climate change and Pakistan’s extended urbanisation

Therefore, to effectively address the contemporary urban issues, it is essential to pause for a
moment and question the neoclassical interpretation of urbanisation. It is important to ask: what are
the underlying socioeconomic forces behind urbanisation in Pakistan?

The answer includes agrarian distress, conflict and natural disasters. Yet an intriguing aspect of
urban development in Pakistan is the outward expansion of the urban, i.e. the urban is encroaching
erstwhile rural spaces. This process is also known as urban sprawl.

This is directly tied to the land regime and industrial policy in Pakistan. The buying and selling of land
is not just easy but it enjoys tax holidays and loopholes.

On the other hand, undertaking productive investments in manufacturing is much more difficult and
cumbersome process.

Thus, for owners of capital, the buying and selling of land is the most reliable and effective strategy
to accumulate capital. In continuous search of higher profits and investment opportunities, farm
land, forests and green spaces are converted into gated housing communities.

In the last three decades, the urban sprawl in Lahore has increased by more than 98pc at the
expense of green farm lands.

Similarly, in Islamabad, there is a 40pc rise in urban sprawl in the last two decades, whereas, 35pc of
forest area has been lost during the same time period. A similar trend is observable in other major
urban centres of Pakistan.

Pakistan’s urban development is a dialectic of urban affluence and urban vulnerabilities. Urban
affluence is limited to the privileged few while vulnerabilities are collectively shared by the rest of
the society.

For example, urban sprawl has produced a new class of billionaire real estate developers. On the
other hand, it has imposed huge social and ecological costs. It has diminished biodiversity from the
land, increased carbon emissions and polluted our environment. For example, Lahore has one of the
worst air quality in the world.

The 21st century urban interface in Pakistan is a blend of high-end housing societies/malls and slum
settlements, expansive underpasses and toxic air quality. There is ample evidence now that many
new housing societies that are built on the peripheries of the city actually dispossessed locals from
their livelihoods.

Bahria Town Karachi: Greed unlimited

There is a complex web of political economy of land where politicians, civil-military bureaucracies
and real estate capital are entangled with each other. This explains why this model of urbanisation
by dispossession is being continuously reproduced across Pakistan.

It is important to note that new housing societies only become feasible when new road
infrastructure and other public goods (electricity, gas, piped water) are provisioned by the
government.

Thus, the provision of public goods through taxpayer money plays a key role in making these housing
societies commercially feasible. In other words, profits are privatised while costs are socialised in the
contemporary model of urbanisation in Pakistan.

Urban vulnerabilities are outcomes of the contemporary model of urban ‘development’ rather than
a lack thereof.

In other terms, Pakistan does not necessarily suffer from the lack of development; rather, the
problem lies in the contemporary model of development that is predicated on dispossession,
exclusion and environmental degradation.

How to be a Shia in Pakistan

When you hesitate while writing this, hesitate while publishing this, you must do it anyway.

Zuneera ShahUpdated Sep 11, 2019 06:47pm

Stare into space as your Islamiyat teacher announces to a room full of eight-year-olds that your
namaz will never be valid as long as your arms hang to the sides. Remember when your qari sahib
dictated that real Muslims must end namaz by turning their heads to the right first and then to the
left.
In both cases, pretend as if you are not one of the apostates under debate. Nod convincingly even if
no one is watching. Risk no eye contact.

Think back to your mother’s hanging arms and convey to her when you get home that day, and then
repeatedly for a week, that she does not know how to pray. Resist the urge to fold her hands on her
chest. Watch her take you from the shoulders and eventually shout, “This is how we pray, you
understand me?” Nod — this time from fear of a different audience — as you hold back your tears.

Enter the fold of this ‘we’ your mother is a part of, and has now invited you into. Resolve to never
listen to your Islamiyat teacher again — it won’t be until later, many years later — that you
understand that mere placement of arms in submission to Allah has a certain politics to it and that
you will always be at the wrong end of it.

In school, offer yourself up for constant interrogation to bite-size humans like yourself. Answer their
questions. Over and over and over again. Look to the other Shia kids for help when you’re called a
kafir. Over and over and over again.

Never complain or get angry — it means you have something to hide, something to be ashamed of.
Rage anyway. Call them names, even-out the damage. Fight, fight, fight. Learn that “they started it”
means nothing against the implicit bias of teachers. Learn that teachers don’t entirely disagree that
you deserve to be humiliated in this way — that if they wanted this to stop, they would step in, at
least in ways that mattered.

Instead, learn to fight your fights. Act like nothing they say matters to you. Laugh when they ask you
about drinking piss, laugh when they ask you if you worship idols and flags, laugh when they ask you
if you’d beat yourself to death.

Say yes to spite them, scare them, shock them. Never tell them that your death is, in fact, too likely
for this to be a joke, and delivered straight to the doorstep by the likes of them — that it is far easier
a task than the labour of beating one’s self to unconsciousness.

Read next: On Persian pilgrimages, Pakistanis and Indians reconnect with Iran

Inside Imambargah Azakhana-e-Zehra in Saddar, Karachi | Arif Mahmood, White Star

Voicing this truth would obviously mean you’re lumping together these harmless, curious bearers of
questions with actual hate-mongers, and how dare you forget that not all Sunni Muslims are anti-
Shia, that they are complex and varied individuals?
When your six- and eight-year-old cousins narrate the same things happening to them, mourn that
nothing seems to be changing even with all the years put between you, mourn that you have
conceded to this being a rite of passage of surviving in this world.

When you hear the question “Are you Shia?” learn to parse out whether the tone is accusatory or
confirmatory. Whether there is danger lurking behind a not-so-innocent query, how much
judgement is carried in the tone of who’s asking, quickly gauge whether you are at risk of harm and
how much — emotional, physical, psychological.

Say yes, anyway, because saying no would mean you’re afraid. And afraid you are, but of a different
kind of judgement, never theirs. Put a sticker on your car that says Ya Ali, that says Labaik Ya Hussain
in the biggest font, in bold reds, melting, underlined by the Zulfiqar. When the rear windshield of
your car is smashed on a random day, buy another sticker before your glass is fixed.

At majlis, raise both your hands for Naray Haideri and answer with Ya Ali. Stand up in the
congregation and beseech the audience with a Naray Haideri longer and louder than the last one.
When Labaik Ya Hussain is offered to the crowd, sense the stillness in the air as everyone answers
back Labaik Ya Hussain.

Keep chanting for what feels like an eternity, bask in this feeling of unity and closeness to your
people and to your faith. Put your head down when the masaib come on; cry as your mothers would
as you grow older, as you understand better.

In these spaces, beat your chest hard, with both hands, to the rhythm of nohas. Recite as loud as you
can. As kids, compare your chests with your cousins. Feel proud if your skin burns a pink deeper than
the rest; semi-circles for the girls wearing oval necklines and a butterfly-shaped red smear on the
boys’ chests.

In these spaces, recite the poetry of your great aunts and uncles, passed down to you generation
after generation. Harmonise with your cousins and form your own reciting group; fight over who
gets to lead which paragraph. On your way back home, blast nohas in your car day after day.

Related: Muharram in the 19th century: Indian paintings, British imagination

Preparations for Muharram underway at Bodla Bahar’s shrine in Sehwan | Arif Mahmood, White
Star

When you spot a Zuljinah trotting on the streets of Lahore, slow down your car. Make sure you
maneuver your arms out the window to pat it. When it makes its weekly rounds at your
grandmother’s place, make sure you have apples to feed it. On the fifth of Muharram, go to the
imambargah earlier than usual just for the Zuljinah to come.

When it’s finally time for majlis, sit on the stairs as you watch the elders adorn the Zuljinah with
ornamented armour and a freshly red-stained white chadar. When they tie the imama on the saddle
to mark the Imam’s presence, recite salawat with everyone.

At the end of the masaib, watch throngs of men wailing as the Zuljinah makes its way through the
crowds. When it’s out of your sight, run to the women’s side to be with your aunts, for you know
they will recite a noha as they do every year.

When the Zuljinah comes to the women’s side, the sound of lament is deafening. Such is the air of
grief that you can’t help but think of when the Zuljinah returned to the khemagahs at Karbala and
the women and children knew Imam Hussain was no more.

Know it is that helplessness and sorrow that you honour. With every thump to the chest, say Hussain
as loud as you can as the ziyarat of the Zuljinah completes its rounds and returns to be concluded for
the night.

Year after year, watch some of your uncles return on Ashura with their white kurta shalwar
drenched in blood. Watch your aunts as they tend to the wounds. Listen closely when they tell you it
is a way of embodying the pain of those holy people they hold dearly, that it is only one way of
mourning and exhibiting faith.

When people ask “churian maartay ho?” — Do you knife yourself? — tell them you would never,
your family isn’t like those other crazies. Laugh with them when they laugh. Don’t let them find out
you’re one of the crazy Shias because, of course, their graciousness can only accommodate you as
long as you are willing to practise on their terms.

Be ashamed of yourself that in dodging the labels of fanatic and kafir, you have undermined the
tenacity and complexity of people’s faiths. Over the years, learn to embrace these words with grace
and defend to death their choices and decisions. When people tell you they don’t “understand”,
retort that it’s because they haven’t made an attempt to.

Also read: On embracing the hyphen and hybridity of language

Mourners at a Muharram procession near Nisar Haveli, Lahore | M Arif, White Star
Once or twice in a few years, rush to the phone calls of those, mostly relatives, graced by a mojza, a
miracle — occurrences that, by definition, outlaw the application of conventional logic. A miracle is
that which is not humanly possible; this is exactly the crux of it.

Sit in dargahs and watch the tasbeehs turn red, take in the indescribable scent that reigns over the
room, watch red stains appear on the Hands of Fatima that line the walls. When the hosts cry, know
it’s because they feel they have been selected into a special order, their faith and devotion joining
the ranks of those held among as true believers, their house a space considered worthy of holiness.

Remember the magic of the night at your khala’s house on the occasion of a mojza when you find
her sobbing in her dargah, surrounded by her family. That when she points you towards the beads of
the tasbeeh, they are red in places and dark brown in others, like dried up blood, and pearl white
elsewhere.

With time, understand that the scene of the mojza is a space where an alternate, sensory knowledge
prevails — not lesser or greater, just different — and those entering it submit to its profundity. The
faculties of sight and smell confirm what your mind has hesitations accepting. "How is this possible?"
you ask yourself, never making your nay saying tendencies vocal. Know that those around you lead
from a different truth; how is it not possible?

Although you never broach the subject with your friends, when it comes up on a random day, sit in
silence as your best friend proclaims, quite messiah-like, that she thinks there are no differences.
“Shia, Sunni — what matters, yaar, is that we’re all Muslims.” Smile because you know she means it
in good faith. Smile because the erasure of difference is always the only point of engagement —
perhaps because it is easy and portable.

When you decide that it is, in fact, worth it, begin to argue that difference is necessary. That it is the
site where all meaning is produced. Fail to get through to them. When someone you meet tells you
they "don’t identify as Sunni, just Muslim," lightly smirk — of course you don’t — behind the rim of
your teacup.

Fall in love with a Sunni and have them tell you it would never work out. That it’s just “different”.
That it’s not them, it’s their family. Have a Sunni fall in love with you and tell them the most you can
ever be is friends. In a parallel universe, both of you wouldn’t care, but this is the world you live in, a
world where you have to rule out certain possibilities, that even if you somehow make it happen, it
just won’t be worth the hassle. Save the tears for later.

Watch your brother date someone for four years as he struggles with the what ifs of a Shia-Sunni
partnership. Sit next to him while he finally tells her it won’t work out. Watch him convince himself
it’s not because of the Shia-Sunni thing. Say nothing.
Explore: Fahmida Riaz — the act of translation as mourning

Pocession in Islamabad on Monday. — AP

At college, be surprised when your Muslim Students Association has sajdagahs and identify that
what is actually surprising to you is… inclusion. Mourn over the state of things, your ability to expect
and demand so little of those in power, that the smallest kindnesses and recognitions somehow
seem monumental.

Look up to those pushing the envelope for greater inclusion even as some of them are much younger
than you. Watch them slowly burn out for demanding better and more with no guarantee on results.

Carry the burden of your ‘too Shia’ name. When enough of your people are murdered, run
someplace far away. Anywhere that will take you. Apply for a visit visa at first. Pack up your entire
life in two suitcases since anything more would be suspicious.

Claim political asylum. Wait till the red tape determines how unwanted you are. Have the authorities
question the urgency of the threat to your body, your life, your beliefs. Let them decide whether or
not your life is “actually in danger.” Begin to question it yourself. Call it due diligence and move on
with your life.

Instead of commemorating grief in the month of mourning, lament indefinitely. The Imam was
Gareeb ul Watan, and now you are too. Build new imambargahs and communities to fill them with.
Rent marquees and halls to host majalis. Lobby the authorities to allow jaloos. Keep saying Labaik Ya
Hussain on the streets.

Always practise a latent fear of congregations. Concerts, lecture halls, conferences, subways —
always be prepared to give up your right to life. Think of death as something with too high a
probability even when you move far away from the country.

Tell yourself it’s not fear, only practical thought. Don’t trace your fears back to jaloos or majalis
because that means you aren’t as brave as those who march on the streets year after year, checking
their fear at the police check-posts, consciously entering the fold of visibility, making themselves
available to harm, unbothered and unafraid.

So when you hesitate while writing this, hesitate while publishing this, you must do it anyway. Your
silence will never protect you — Bibi Zainab taught you that before Audre Lorde — for it is a luxury
you never felt entitled to.
Are insecure property rights holding back Pakistan’s economy?

We need to attempt to reform the institutions which govern us, better property rights might be a
good place to start.

Shahrukh WaniUpdated Aug 01, 2019 03:59pm

Traffic snarls up outside the Zaman Park residence of Prime Minister Imran Khan during protest by
Eden Housing scam victims in September 2018.— White Star

[Follow Prism on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram]

We live in an unequal world. I don’t mean inequality in the sense of within country, but between
countries.

This essentially means that, for a minority of the world’s population, their place of birth allows them
to be wealthier and healthier than those born in a less developed country.

Interestingly, before the late-1700s, the world might have been significantly more equal. While
England, the Netherlands and some other European states had started to pull ahead a few centuries
earlier, the gap wasn’t as stark as it became over the next century as technological innovation grew
at a rapid scale.

As other countries followed, some countries — starting with England — industrialised, others didn’t.
The income gap increased between countries — this is known as the Great Divergence.

Life along KCR: Between aspirations for mobility and threat of eviction

Since then there has been some convergence — with some (mainly Asian) countries growing rapidly
and, and as a consequence, the gap between advanced and developing countries has narrowed, but
still remains significant.

The question which arises here is this: what allows some countries to be significantly richer than
others? Similarly, why have some developing countries been able to move ahead so rapidly, and
many others, like Pakistan, haven’t?

The answer to why some countries have done better is complicated and heavily contested. So is the
premise I just set here.
This is because there are likely to be many reasons for this — certainly more than what can be
covered here, and probably more than what economists have been able to identify — but one
explanation might have do with the existence of secure private property rights allowing some
countries to move ahead of others.

Why property rights?

Let’s start with the basics. Property rights refer to an owners right to consume, use or even sell,
barter, or gift, of an asset.

Think about this way: when you buy a plot of land, you acquire right to that property. You have the
right to use it, build on it, exchange it for something else, sell it or gift it.

You can legally exclude other people from using your plot of land.

The same logic can be applied to intellectual property — if you come up with an idea, access to
secure property rights would give you the ability to own that idea and benefit from it.

This has enormous benefits. It incentivises people to invest in the accumulation of assets — whether
it is plots of land or ideas. Because these rights are tradable, they can be marketed and efficiently
allocated within the economy.

Unreal estate: The boom in Gwadar’s property market

Consider a rather common anecdotal scenario which I have often heard a version of in Pakistan.

Imagine you own an undeveloped plot of land in the centre of Lahore. From your perspective, you
want to sell the land to a buyer who has the capital to invest in it, but you cannot because your
property rights aren’t secure. Perhaps the ownership over the land is contested and the courts have
blocked its sale.

From the larger market perspective, that land acts as dead capital. It has an opportunity to be used
for an economic activity, which would generate growth, but it cannot because the property rights
are insecure.

When you drive around the centre of a bustling city like Lahore or Karachi and see some plots lying
empty despite economic growth, it might be a reflection of insecure private property rights.
Going away from the analogy of plots, let’s briefly talk about something which is even more critical
to economic development: ideas.

Ideas reflect innovation. If you come up with something new — perhaps a smartphone application or
a new way of manufacturing something — and your ideas can be stolen, you have less incentive to
spend time and energy in developing them.

In this way, lack of property rights ends up disincentivising innovation.

Copycat fashion: Can we police the line between imitation and inspiration?

In England, it has been argued, though with significant detractors, that the Glorious Revolution of
1688 led to the strengthening of private property rights. Due to the the monarch's shrinking power
and the strengthening of the parliament, the state's power to expropriate property was reduced.

This security incentivised commercial expansion, with people theoretically more willing to invest,
take the risk and acquire more assets.

It is hard to empirically prove that property rights were the most important determinant which led
to this commercial expansion. However, it is likely that it is part of the story.

Even those who disagree that property rights were at the core of the Great Divergence and part of
the growth story of many other countries since then, do not argue that secure, marketable private
property rights are not conducive to economic growth.

This is more than reason enough for Pakistan to strongly consider how to strengthen private
property rights.

How to establish secure property rights?

There are four interlinked features suggested which would allow such protection to emerge.

First, property rights need to be well-defined. This would deter the emergence of disputes and
create a common stock of knowledge on who owns what.
For example, Pakistan's notorious patwari system is essentially a manifestation of badly-defined
property rights.

The system empowers a person — a land record officer — to maintain large records of property
owners. These officers are ill-famed for seeking bribes to grant the right to property, creating
unnecessary costs.

Second, property rights need to entail a credible commitment that property cannot be expropriated,
either by the state or another private party.

In other words, once a person acquires an asset, they can maintain a credible expectation that their
asset will not be taken over by the government or any other party.

Keeping with the analogy of land, the current affair surrounding Bahria Town, a large, under-
construction gated community located north of Karachi, symbolises this lack of credibility rather
well.

It does so in two ways.

First, the people who lived on the land — acquired illegally by the developer — lacked this security
as the state wasn’t able to secure their right to their asset.

It also demonstrates the failure of this security for the people who bought assets in this gated
community. Their property rights are also insecure and would disincentivise investment in asset
accumulation in the future.

Third, the right can be leveraged, if possible, for capital. For example, the owner of the asset can use
the said asset as collateral to finance further capital accumulation or investment, such as buying a
house and then taking a mortgage against it to finance investment in another venture.

For this to happen, the property rights need to widely accepted — something which can only emerge
if the prior two points are implemented, but this will also need a robust infrastructure to support
contractual arrangements which would allow this to be possible.

When a bank gives you a loan against your house, the bank needs to be reasonably certain that if
you default, they can foreclose on your house to secure their risk, as per the contractual
arrangements in place.
This brings me to the last aspect of secure private property rights — that the asset is tradable, where
possible.

The great thing about good property rights is that you can trade assets — and they should end up
being utilised in a more efficient way.

Think about that vacant plot of land you have in the centre of Lahore. Now that you have secure
property rights, it means your right of ownership is well-defined and there is credible commitment
that no one can illegally take it from you.

At that point, you can sell it. A developer could come in and use that land to build apartments,
creating growth and housing in a city which desperately needs both. The dead capital is no more.

No silver bullets

I want to stress that there are unlikely to be any silver bullets which will lift us to prosperity. Moving
towards such a future would require broad institutional reforms.

One of these reforms are better protection of private property rights, for the arguments outlined
above.

The elusive promise of civil service reform

What works for civil service reform hasn't been sufficiently explored. The PTI presents an
opportunity to rectify this.

Hina Shaikh | Zara SalmanUpdated Aug 23, 2019 02:12pm

Illustration by Mushba Said

Prime Minister Imran Khan’s focus on an overhaul of the bureaucracy has remained one of Pakistan
Tehreek-i-Insaf's (PTI) central pillars. The government wants a bureaucracy that is progressive,
innovative and responsive. But this could take a long time to materialise.

Civil service reform may be the single most critical policy change this government intends to bring, as
it will impact the success of several other political and economic reforms. After all, a capable civil
service is fundamental to state capacity and attaining policy objectives.
For a country as diverse and densely populated as Pakistan — fast urbanising, with a population
surpassing 200 million — a well-functioning and effective bureaucracy becomes even more
imperative in meeting citizens' needs.

However, what works when it comes to civil service reform in Pakistan has not been sufficiently
explored. The PTI government presents an opportunity to rectify this.

Bureaucrats reforming bureaucrats

As has been the case with most other policy reform efforts under this government, a restructuring of
the civil service began with the constitution of a federal task force mandated to identify ways to
reform the bureaucratic system.

Dr Ishrat Hussain, adviser to the prime minister on institutional reforms and austerity, is leading the
effort. Incidentally, he also headed the National Commission of Government Reform (NCGR) a
decade ago but his work was never implemented. Since then, numerous reform efforts to overhaul
Pakistan’s civil service have met little success.

Moreover, in the present era of National Accountability Bureau (NAB) inquiries, the bureaucracy is
reluctant to spearhead any reform. This lack of motivation is hampering the government’s efforts to
create an efficient civil service.

Just recently, in a bid to resolve this concern, the task force proposed a role for supervisory
committees, whose members will be chosen by a parliamentary committee. The purpose of these
supervisory committees would be to convey a sense to civil servants that adequate safeguards are in
place in the wake of a NAB inquiry, and at the same time, pave the way to strengthen accountability.
The proposal, however, has not yet been sent to the cabinet for approval.

Related: Taking an experimental approach on civil service reform

In addition, a lot has already been said about the task force composition, which is heavily tilted
towards ex and current civil servants. They may have an understanding of the deep-rooted structural
problems facing the civil service, but little incentive to change the status quo. At least, the
perception surrounding the task force is that not everyone’s interests will be looked after.

The extent to which reform can be brought through the task force is also questionable. While the
task force is deliberating on key issues and has presented solutions, it lacks executive power, just like
all other task forces, to implement any of its suggestions. It has no operational authority and lacks
clear timelines or terms of reference to execute.
So far, under this government’s tenure, there have been some accomplishments, but there remains
a fear that if reform efforts do not target the centres of influence and counter the disincentives for
change, the task force will not be able to achieve much.

What has PTI promised?

While the agenda for civil service reform is broad, the proposed thinking is underpinned by key
elements of the NCGR report. At the outset, it appears that the PTI understands that governments
can only deliver if people serving as part of it have the motivation and capacity to deliver. In brief, it
aims to find out:

How to induct technical experts into the civil service?

How to attract the right talent?

How to ensure a motivated bureaucracy?

Suggested reform points towards the creation of a National Executive Service (NES) at the federal
level along with a Provincial Executive Service. This would allow civil servants in BPS-19 and
experienced professionals from outside the civil service to be inducted into the bureaucracy.

The purpose of the NES would be to ensure that top positions are not monopolised by generalists
and that there is room for lateral entry of technocrats in various bureaucratic cadres. The selection
would involve eligible candidates sitting for an exam. However, there is resistance to setting up the
NES as it will disturb the career paths of current bureaucrats.

Read next: Pakistan hasn’t succeeded in reforming its bureaucracy in the past. Can the PTI deliver?

The PTI is also committed to improving the overall induction process to attract the right skill set and
talent. The key tool for doing this would be to restructure both the induction and training
mechanisms. It is proposed that entry-level exams be designed to test analytical ability, domain-
specific knowledge and aptitude of candidates.

At the same time, the government wants to ensure that the existing bureaucracy remains motivated
and that political interference and politicisation is minimised.

This would require changes in internal processes, decentralisation of decision-making and removal
of discrepancies within different service groups. For example, currently there is high concentration
of power in certain ministries (finance, planning commission) as compared to others, giving certain
service groups clout within the bureaucracy.
What has PTI delivered?

Overall rules of business have been amended to ensure space for delegation of powers within
ministries. There has been a change in the way signing off on projects is done so that there is
delegation of responsibility and reduced red tape for the disbursement of funds.

So far, several proposals have been made by the task force that have entered the policy domain. As
stated in its meeting minutes and also reported by The News, these include the following:

Security of tenure of civil servants. The tenure would be two years and extendable to three years
with a six-month performance review period, except if the officer is found guilty of malfeasance,
misconduct and insubordination.

Appointment process for federal secretaries is to be done through a selection committee chaired by
the Adviser on Establishment and comprising ministers and secretaries.

Selection process for CEOs of 65 key public sector enterprises has been finalised, with these
appointments to be made through an open and transparent process by involving selection
committees consisting of ministers and secretaries in-charge and one to three experts with domain
knowledge.

A secretaries committee has been activated for inter-ministerial coordination, resolving issues
between different ministries, deliberating upon important policy matters and making
recommendations to the cabinet.

Technical advisers have been appointed in 15 ministerial and attached departments to create more
room to draw upon technical advice.

A road map has been finalised for the implementation of e-governance by connecting all federal
ministries through a local area network, updated and responsive websites, shifting federal
government communication on one domain (gov.pk), an end-to-end secured e-filing system for
paperless government, activating the Digital Transformation Committee and strengthening of the
National Information Technology Board.

All of this seems praiseworthy, but how will it bring any real change is yet to be seen. Formation of
various committees will only bear fruit if consistency is ensured across the board and the decisions
made by them are actually implemented.

Indeed, appointments of senior policymakers, such as the chairman for the Federal Board of
Revenue, were not made through these selection committees. There is also a concern that these
committees lack permanence and are unaccountable, due to which it is difficult to ensure
sustainability of reforms or integrity of decisions pushed through these structures. A system to
ensure enforcement of their mandate is needed.

What is under deliberation?

Induction and training reform is in the pipeline. The task force has suggested restructuring the
Central Superior Services entry process, to rest on a revised examination structure.

The nature of the current examination will be converted into an evaluation of analytical core skills
rather than simple knowledge of theory and facts. This will ensure that candidates with domain-
specific knowledge and aptitude join specialised streams or clusters, enabling a specialised
bureaucracy, streamlining allocation and, at the same time, encouraging linkages with universities to
offer pre-service training.

Four stages are proposed as part of revising the recruitment system: a screening test, followed by
cluster-based specialised recruitment and psychometric evaluation and interview of the candidates
who qualify for the final selection. This proposal has buy-in from the Federal Public Service
Commission, but is awaiting cabinet approval.

A proposal to reform training is underway as well. The Ministry of Planning, Development and
Reforms, in collaboration with United Nations Development Program, is currently being supported
by a team of researchers based at the Consortium for Development Policy Research to undertake a
training needs assessment of civil servants. For the first time, a detailed survey of close to 800 civil
servants is being done. The task force is awaiting these findings.

In-depth: A look at PML-N's selective anti-corruption drive

Several inadequacies in the bureaucracy are underpinned by the civil service training structure. At
present, Pakistan’s bureaucrats are prepared to be well-rounded officers who can serve in multiple
capacities, having the security of their tenure.

But the training system does not foster specialisation. The traditional focus is on content that is
general and that aims to develop broad leadership and management skills. Courses are rarely
designed to improve the capacity to deliver specific services (except for in a few groups).

In addition, training is mostly focused on senior and mid-level officers instead of lower tiers — where
most of the government-citizen interface takes place — and is de-linked with promotion. The Annual
Confidential Reports hardly ever measure performance against goals. To this end, a human resource
management system is also being developed for the establishment division to ensure better career
planning and placements.

What is missing?
According to some estimates, about 85 per cent of government wage bill is spent on subordinate
grades. This staff is an integral part of the bureaucracy, but has poor capacity to provide support and
has low or no value addition (with the exception of technical staff in the engineering or some social
sector departments).

Civil service reform mostly caters to the needs of officers in Grade 17 and above. In Punjab alone,
83.4pc of the civil servants work in Grades 1 to 15. Hence, subordinate staff requires a special focus.

In addition, reform is geared towards the centre and there is little focus on the provinces. No
effective task force can be seen at the provincial level, which means provincial concerns are not
being put forward. The federal and provincial bureaucracies need to be separate but equally
respected.

Challenges

Past efforts to reform Pakistan’s civil service have remained unsuccessful mainly due to the political
economy surrounding civil service reform and resistance to change. This, coupled with ineffective
political strategies for pushing through such efforts, has made the task even more challenging.

The PTI has taken on a difficult task. Civil service reform is tough to implement and bears limited
results in the short run. As most of their potential benefits are placed in future, there is little room
for governments to gain political mileage.

Moreover, bureaucracy is most comfortable when it sees things in their familiar form, flowing
smoothly. While they may accept some change, they clearly lack the motivation to put them in
effect.

Hence, there is a need to counter such disincentives. The success of reform inevitably depends on
the stability of the political regimes and the assurance that governments will be accountable for
their actions.

Judicial restraint was Saqib Nisar’s hallmark — then the dam broke

Populism and antagonism will probably have an outsized influence in defining his legacy.

Waqqas MirUpdated Feb 06, 2019 03:50pm

[Follow Prism on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram]

No one had predicted it — at least not in the public domain. All the signs pointed in the direction of
roads leading away from activism. And then, as some may say, the dam broke.
Let’s try and put the enormity of what happened in context.

A few months before taking oath as chief justice, Justice Saqib Nisar authored a judgment with far-
reaching consequences for the office of the prime minister and the entire cabinet.

In Mustafa Impex, a bench of the Supreme Court reminded the federal government that “[the prime
minister] was neither a substitute nor a surrogate for the cabinet. He could not exercise its powers
by himself.”

The judgment was important, even exciting, for lawyers but it had little popular appeal. Some mused
that the incoming chief justice was sending a clear message that he is his own man — dispelling
perceptions (inaccurate or otherwise) that the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz government would
have an easy ride.

Others saw this as an affirmation of something we all live with: where you stand on an issue is
determined by where you sit.

More importantly, though, the judgment was informed by an interpretive approach that (then)
Justice Nisar was known for: textual reading of the Constitution — something we do not see often
enough in a country that seems to adore judicial activism.

Throughout his career, Justice Nisar built a star-studded reputation as a luminary. As a judge, he
made it clear that he cared deeply about the meaning of words.

This had a history.

"Imaginative social engineering accompanies judicial activism, but where do we draw the line?"

During his days at the bar, he made his name as one of the top civil law practitioners of the country.
As a judge too, he was known at the Lahore High Court for being a master of the technicalities of the
Code of Civil Procedure as well as a keen student of the text of the Constitution.

You cannot be considered a master craftsman in any field of law — especially procedure or the
constitution — unless words really matter to you.
So, in many ways, the ruling in Mustafa Impex made perfect sense: cabinet means the cabinet—and
the prime minister cannot be a substitute for it. This was the Justice Saqib Nisar everyone
recognised.

Let’s go back a little further.

It was a case where all opinions combined came to more than 900 pages. The Supreme Court’s
decision regarding the constitutionality of the 18th and 21st Amendments was, easily, among the
most significant constitutional rulings in Pakistan’s history.

Justice Saqib Nisar’s opinion — differing from the plurality and holding that the judges had no right
to strike down a constitutional amendment — can only be described as a joy to read.

It was rooted in the premise that conservative judicial approaches can lead to progressive
democratic outcomes. It also said, “[T]he Constitution does not end (it certainly did not begin) with
the Judges, and the courts would do well to remember that.”

Those who value judicial conservatism rejoiced.

Editorial: CJP Nisar's legacy

He was only one of four judges in the Supreme Court who said the court should not get into the
business of rewriting the Constitution after parliament had spoken.

In that moment, he was a national treasure. This was the Justice Nisar a lot of people celebrated —
and for good reason.

The man who wrote the above two, and many other, solid opinions then became unrecognisable in
the last year of his tenure as chief justice.

Was there a sudden change in worldview or outlook? Or was it an increasingly urgent, shifting search
for a legacy?

As Arifa Noor notes with characteristic nuance in her profile of Chief Justice Nisar, “[A]s humans
rarely are prompted by one factor alone, it could be a combination of the larger politics plus the
need for a legacy.”
For people who rise through the ranks with ambition and dream of shaping the world they inhabit,
legacies do matter. This is not to say that this is necessarily the right motivation but recognising its
existence can provide context.

Narratives we grow up believing about our society and its politics also matter, and not being
cognisant of the shortcomings of these narratives can eventually plague our approaches.

How it began

In a speech at the eve of beginning his tenure as chief justice, Chief Justice Nisar told us that
eliminating corruption would be a top priority. He made it clear in the same speech that he sought to
eliminate it from not just the judiciary, but also other branches of government.

At some point, it must have become clear to him that the job is not as easy as he thought.

Corruption has deep roots in this society and across institutions, but there are other, deeper
systemic flaws. These include misplaced priorities, ill-informed approaches implemented with rigour
and lack of clear planning (because vision or data is missing).

At times there is plain incompetence, and then there is the plain lack of resources or capacity.

We cannot know for sure what motivated Chief Justice Nisar. Did this drive to ‘fix the system’ and act
as a saviour have an end in sight when it began? Or did it work like quicksand, drawing him in deeper
every time he took up a new issue?

Judicial restraint and a modesty about the constitutional role of judges were the hallmarks of his
approach; and yet these two things became increasingly scarce during his last year in office.

"For people with ambition, legacies do matter."

Chief Justice Nisar borrowed in part from former Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry. The latter had set a
precedent: calling politicians, bureaucrats and ordinary citizens to court and unleashing thunderous
remarks from the bench makes everyone sit up, makes hourly tickers (not just headlines) and people
take you more seriously.

But unlike Chaudhry, Nisar was a star of the profession. He had stood out throughout his career, and
a legacy could not be based on borrowing from those who came before. It had to go beyond.
As it turned out, at times there seemed to be no end in sight.

Chief Justice Nisar’s tenure came to be increasingly characterised by populist measures (be it dams,
healthcare facilities, schools or national airlines) that stretch the definitions of what we consider
normal judicial conduct.

He went from being known as one of Pakistan’s most well-known textualists to a man who at times
showed worryingly little regard for time-honoured legal processes.

From a man known for his ambition and knowledge of the law, he went to being a man we will
remember as walking into hospitals and carrying out inspections.

Did this work out well for the system or the ordinary litigant? For a few, the jury may still be out. For
many, the answer is a resounding no.

This should not surprise anyone, but let’s confront the question that people will always ask about
hyper judicial activism. Look at the results, they say. So, what’s wrong with it?

What is wrong with it?

Mark Tushnet at Harvard Law School has written about how the term ‘judicial activism’ is often
unhelpful; people mean different things when they use this term.

This much is accurate. When people want to use it as a pejorative, they do so without being clear
about what they mean.

Let us also not forget the significance of the fact that the popular imagination in Pakistan, as in most
other places, often sees justice as solely a result.

The results that consumers of a justice system see have enormous emotive appeal. Splashing
headlines or recurrent news tickers of powerful public and private actors being summoned play an
important role in shaping perceptions.

Equally important is the harsh reality that many of us, as lazy citizens, love judicial activism when it
suits us. If it works to stop a large-scale project we do not like, or an acquittal or a stay order we
agree with, we celebrate it.
Academics have also written about how judges interpreting constitutions in common law countries
adjust the constitutions to the “felt necessities of the time”.

"When judges shrug off process, they become populists."

Then there are the outcomes. Focus on the outcomes, goes the argument. Outcomes do matter. If
good results are achieved, what is wrong with it?

Skeptics, and I mean principled skeptics of activism, have a powerful response to counter all this.
They say this approach conveniently forgets that at the heart of the promise of justice are its
processes and constitutionally circumscribed spheres of activity.

The clearly delineated spheres of activity in a constitutional democracy and processes of the system
of justice are what ensure that institutions develop.

Approaches matter, they urge. Focus on processes, they say, because processes in a justice system
ensure that we protect even unpopular defendants; these processes, goes the argument, are the
surest safeguard against mob mentality making a mockery of the justice system.

When judges shrug off process and become focused only on the result, they become populists. If
judges join in the ‘everybody knows who is guilty’ mindset then the system collapses.

The late Justice Antonin Scalia of the Supreme Court of the United States once gave a
characteristically punchy retort upon being asked why we should not focus only on the outcomes in
a justice system. Even a king would do something right, he said, but that is no reason to abandon
democracy.

Even advocates of judicial activism would have to agree that it all did go a little bit awry in the last
year. It was, perhaps, not so much the chief justice’s order that dams be built, it was what that aim
eventually led to.

Also read: Judicial independence is vital for democracy but judicial activism can be
counterproductive

Daily tickers from the apex court, and the dialogue between bar and bench (at least as reported),
made constant references to payments in the Dam Fund. Regrettably little was done to set this right.
It started appearing to the average citizen that how one is treated in court depends on the view one
takes of the fund and one’s willingness to contribute to it.

It does not matter whether anyone actually received lenient treatment because of a promise to
donate to the Dam Fund. The fact that Pakistan’s top court was perceived as identifying one cause
above all others and firmly nudging people to contribute to it caused damage to the promise of
impartiality.

It was not so much the concern for education or health, it was what this concern translated into that
worried citizens.

Regardless of what certain people appearing on electronic media tell you, a citizen is worse off if he
has to rely on a newspaper headline or appear on breaking news to catch the attention of the justice
system — or the justice himself.

It is also a failure of the system if the solution is that the top court has to set aside regular work to
focus on items that the media is highlighting.

Imaginative social engineering accompanies judicial activism in both Pakistan and India, but where
do we draw the line? Chief Justice Nisar’s last year in office forced us to confront this question with
an urgency we perhaps never imagined.

With Chief Justice Nisar, we can all agree that this — whether we call it hyper activism, populism or
governance from the bench — was something that this country had not seen before.

"When citizens fear for their dignity as a result of dialogue from the bench, it should give us reason
to pause."

However, let’s not assume that we will not see it again. This will keep recurring until there is a
conversation and pushback against it.

The effects will be lasting — and the damage by activism, on principle, almost certainly outweighs
the gains.

The arguments in defence of hyper judicial activism are the usual lazy ones: courts are forced to do
this because politicians have failed. This is a cop-out and a product of narratives surrounding us.
As Babar Sattar reminded us, those who favour judicial activism (and trust apex courts with
governance) somehow also manage to defend military courts (i.e. distrusting courts at their job) —
so let’s not forget the irony.

Also, if courts are forced to do the job of other branches of government, what needs to happen for
the court system (lawyers, judges et al) to do the job that the public expects of them? And who gets
to do their job while they fail?

There are those who will, legitimately, say that there is something to be gained by courts acting in an
unconventional manner. ‘Why play by the old rules?’ some ask.

This would count for something if activism took us past simplistic or populist narratives. If activism
engendered meaningful reform by focusing on processes and not just results, we may get
somewhere.

But therein lies the rub: judicial activism and hyper activism by a leader intent on applying a saviour
formula cannot focus on long-term reform because in order to be exciting, glamorous or even
remain alive, this approach needs to jump from one issue to the other.

That is the nature of the beast.

Courts pushing narratives

There is good reason for superior courts being reluctant to take up positions on social causes: it
means that competing perspectives are shut out.

In fact, any adoption of a narrative by a top court means that perspectives that may differ are
immediately marginalised.

This is why supreme courts in most countries stick to deciding issues of law and, at least in theory,
attempt to do so by sticking to narrow rulings without opining on social, political or religion-related
merits of legislative enactments.

The Aasia Bibi ruling is a good example of this.

The ruling is laudable in its treatment of facts and courageous in many respects. However, Chief
Justice Nisar’s opinion for the court in this case also aimed to placate skeptics, arguably a balancing
act by the court (and one can understand where the court was coming from), but parts of the
opinion may have made it extremely difficult for any legislator to suggest even procedural
amendments to the law on prosecution of blasphemy.

Similarly, any opposition to the idea of large dams being labelled as treasonous is not just
regrettable, it is deeply tragic in a polity as fractured as ours.

Matters of national importance require input from all voices, including dissenting ones. Courts
should amplify and not mute voices that are otherwise marginalised.

"The damage by activism almost certainly outweighs the gains."

State regulators like the Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority and others also take their
cues from the superior judiciary about what is legitimate speech and what kind of speech the state
can comfortably clamp down on.

When courts look away from this, they do not further the constitutional promise of liberty.

The fact that these are not exactly happy times for the media in Pakistan also meant that there was
very little pushback about Chief Justice Nisar’s activism. These are important conversations that we
must have — and we can have these discussions in a way that respects all shades of opinion and
ensures respect for the judiciary.

Amid all the activism, the chief justice did continue authoring important rulings, but that was not the
conversation the country, or the court, was having.

If you make a list of the detailed verdicts passed by Chief Justice Nisar, it is fairly long and many
judgments make good reading.

The verdict regarding Gilgit-Baltistan is particularly important, as is the ruling on dual nationality
holders in government service. Admirably, this ruling left it up to parliament and the executive to
come up with guidelines where there were not any.

You can take issue with the rhetoric in this ruling — for instance, it all but assumes (in passing) that
anyone who obtained dual citizenship during government service was motivated by corruption —
but for the most part, the substance of this ruling is based on admirable restraint.
The judiciary’s own house

However, this does not take away from the fact that the institution’s perception was shaped by the
chief justice and that he was in the media for his judicial hyper activism and advocacy of certain
causes.

Regrettably little was done to improve the justice system for the common man. There were no
institutional reforms initiated from the chief justice’s office and no meaningful concerted efforts to
clear the backlog of cases.

The judiciary’s own accountability is an area that has received scant attention throughout our
history. There was the occasional rhetoric — and a fair bit of TV — around this issue.

The chief justice walked into a judge’s courtroom and — while the cameras were rolling — tossed
aside the junior judge’s phone.

Do lower court judges in Pakistan act in regrettable ways when it comes to disposing cases?
Absolutely. But was the chief justice’s chosen method of embarrassing a judge in line with dignity of
either office? Absolutely not.

In-depth: How Justice Saqib Nisar became Herald's Person of the Year 2018

In terms of rhetoric, shocking and ultimately unsubstantiated accusations came from former Justice
Shaukat Siddiqui. However, the manner in which he aired his grievances earned him neither friends
nor trust. The Supreme Judicial Council (SJC) acted promptly and he was removed.

While the SJC continues to hear references against sitting judges, its protocols remain shrouded in
mystery. This is extremely regrettable and the people of Pakistan deserve to know the standards the
council follows.

These questions came into sharp focus with the news that Women’s Action Forum, joined by a few
other citizens, filed a reference against Chief Justice Nisar.

In a powerful development, WAF’s members and their allies made their case that the chief justice’s
conduct had crossed the lines of proper judicial conduct. We did not hear more about this.
Who examines a reference initially and what results in it being taken up for a hearing? What is the
burden on anyone filing a reference? Many citizens have these questions — and the conversation
about proper judicial conduct and judiciary’s domain in a democracy is important regardless of a
citizen’s position on any particular reference.

"In his last year, his approach was categorised by delving into matters clearly outside the judiciary’s
domain."

Was there pushback from within the judiciary at the top level? We will know for sure only in the
future when autobiographies are written — but the murmurings of discontent did become clear.

Supreme Court justices in the United States have been described as ‘nine scorpions in a bottle’.
Make no mistake; people who make it to the supreme court are defined by their ambition as much
as their calibre.

They all have decades of legal practice behind them. They also possess, quite naturally, a very
developed view on how the law and those it regulates should operate.

Chief Justice Nisar’s abrupt reconstitution of a bench in the Peshawar registry resulted in Justice Qazi
Faez Isa and then Justice Mansoor Ali Shah making clear their view: the top judge cannot
reconstitute a bench to quell dissent.

Perspective: When lawyers turn into hooligans

Anyone interested in the stories of top courts, and the individuals who handle them, would know
that top courts are characterised by sharply differing views. This is not a bad thing at all. Institutions
are stronger because of differing views.

Most of the time these views are aired only among judges themselves. All judges realise the
importance of preserving the dignity of their institution over and above personal disagreements.

The fact that two strongly-worded opinions were released firmly suggests that the two judges felt
they had no other option but to express their dissent in writing.

This is not necessarily something to mourn. The fact that judges differing with the chief justice
expressed their discontent through judicial opinions — ironically, two dissents combining to form a
majority — shows the power of dissent.
The institution came out stronger than the individuals involved, and this will make it fascinating to
see how Justice Isa and Justice Shah (both in line to become chief justice in future years) handle
dissent when they are in a leadership position.

"If activism engendered meaningful reform, we may get somewhere."

Many believe that an area where the apex court’s position suffered during Chief Justice Nisar’s last
year in office was the promise of dignity the court holds out; for itself as well as for those appearing
before it.

Senior journalists as well as doctors, as per news reports, had their credibility and commitment
questioned. No one deserves to have a reputation tarnished by an off-the-cuff remark during
proceedings before the highest court in the land.

When citizens fear to approach the apex court and fear for their dignity as a result of dialogue from
the bench, it should give us all good reason to pause.

Our private schools and hospitals will not markedly improve as a result of well-intentioned, but
essentially arbitrary, corrective steps.

Chief Justice Nisar’s scolding of hospital or school owners may have been motivated by a deep and
genuine frustration at a rotten system, but they will not lead to long-term, meaningful reform.

Forcing businesses to change their practices through ad-hoc judicial orders — without legislative
backing or buy-in from the businesses — is unlikely to succeed.

Painting private school and hospital owners, as well as doctors serving government entities at
handsome salaries, as rapacious is likely to embed resentment rather than engagement that
facilitates reform.

Chief Justice Saqib Nisar: For judging too much

If the aim was to generate a conversation on issues of inequality and abuse of monetary power, the
means adopted by Chief Justice Nisar left a lot to be desired in the eyes of many.

We must resist the temptation to entirely celebrate or completely demonise any individual — and
this is especially true for those who, like judges, serve in public office.
Nuance demands a measured approach. The outgoing chief justice had a stellar legal career for the
most part. He wrote dozens of rulings that helped a lot of people understand the law. He wrote
some of the most clear-headed opinions worth celebrating.

In his last year, as the top judge of the country, his approach was categorised by delving into matters
clearly outside the judiciary’s domain. Populism and a fair bit of (avoidable) antagonism will probably
have an outsized influence in defining his legacy.

He must be aware of the impact of all this, but that is not how these things end. As he aptly noted in
his farewell speech, the rest of the country and ‘generations to come’ will have to live with it too.

Meanwhile, we must have that conversation about activism versus restraint and what works better
for a more progressive, inclusive and democratic polity.

Police torture: A product of Pakistan's authoritarian political values?

It may very well be the case.

Zoha WaseemUpdated Sep 14, 2019 08:14am

About a decade ago, in March 2010, newspapers thronged with articles on police torture following
an incident in Chiniot in which suspects accused of street crimes were stripped, tortured and publicly
humiliated by policemen outside a police station.

The videos of the incident led to public outcry. A suo motu notice was taken. The Supreme Court
ordered the Punjab government to "shut down private torture cells being run by the police, make
drastic changes in police training manuals, maintain strict discipline and hold senior police officers,
including inspector general, accountable."

The media reported that some 150 torture cells were being run in Lahore by the Punjab Police,
outside the premises of police stations, where policemen were usually employing five methods of
torture: physical, hygienic, deprivation, psychological and humiliation.

The police felt targeted, embarrassed and demoralised. The then Inspector General of Punjab Police
said the public was "abusing [the police] more than the Indian army." The Supreme Court instructed
the Inspector, "tell your police force not to obey illegal or unconstitutional orders."
Senior police officers told other police officers to follow "scientific methods" of interrogation. The
low-ranked policemen involved, including the Station House Officer, were arrested. The Deputy
Superintendent of Police was suspended.

Sounds familiar? It should. The more things change…

A year later, in August 2011, two young brothers were lynched to death in the presence of police
officers in Sialkot. A few months later, reports of a torture cell within Crime Investigation Agency
headquarters in Lahore (the Kotwali Office) made the rounds.

In 2018, a young boy was sexually assaulted inside a private torture cell near Lahore, while one
police official video recorded the assault. In the first week of September of this year alone, we have
learned about the tragic deaths of Salahuddin Ahmed, Amjad Ali and Amir Masih.

Related: Police torture is rife. When will the state legislate against it?

Last year, Advocate Javeria Younes presented her research on custodial torture in Pakistan. She
surveyed lawyers, social activists, members of law enforcement agencies and torture victims in five
major cities across Pakistan.

She found that in addition to torture being used as an instrument to extract evidence, it is also
"encouraged and abetted by the state to maintain its writ", explaining why police officers and the
public alike complain that there is a lack of political will to reform police departments and improve
the culture of civilian policing.

Based on the records of Madadgaar Helpline, Younes found that between 2009 and 2013, there had
been a dramatic increase in the incidents of torture of both men and women. In 2008, Madadgaar
Helpline had published its own findings based on reported incidents of police torture across Pakistan
between January and June. It found that in those six months, 743 cases of police torture had been
reported, predominantly from Punjab (406) with Sindh being the second worse (304).

A comparison of provincial capitals showed 177 cases of police torture reported in Lahore in this
period, against 45 in Karachi. In the cases studied, ‘torture’ included a variety of techniques ranging
from murder to rape, illegal detention, physical torture and harassment.

Today, a handful of legal frameworks safeguard civilians from torture in police custody. The Pakistan
Penal Code prohibits causing ‘hurt’ for extracting confessions (but does not use the word ‘torture’).
Article 14(2) of the Constitution prohibits torture in custody and states, "No person shall be
subjected to torture for the purpose of extracting evidence." Article 10 of the Constitution prohibits
arbitrary arrest and detention. Section 176 of the Criminal Procedure Code demands a magisterial
inquiry in cases of custodial deaths, but as is common knowledge, such inquiries seldom take place.

Despite these provisions, as Sarah Belal, executive director of the Justice Project Pakistan, has
stressed, torture needs to be criminalised and outlawed. A bill criminalising torture was tabled in the
National Assembly in 2014 but has yet to be passed into law. (The proposed Torture, Custodial Death
and Custodial Rape (Prevention and Punishment) Act 2015 was cleared by the Senate in 2015).

Symbols of law and ‘terror’?

When focusing on police torture, it is customary now to start by acknowledging its colonial roots. In
1855, the Madras Torture Commission produced a 400-page document that showed how revenue
authorities had been misusing their powers of policing and brutally extracting revenue from the
poor. But even after the Torture Commission had carried out inquiry and subsequent reform
committees highlighted this issue, police abuse remained rampant.

In her study on torture under colonial rule in India, Anupama Rao analysed how allegations of
torture against the colonial regime and police were side stepped when responsibility was transferred
to pre-colonial regimes and torture was seen as a legacy of "'native' practices of punishment."

There is similarly a tendency in Pakistan to distance police administrators and their political masters
from allegations of police misconduct, by transferring blame onto colonial laws and continuities and
not the current politics of policing that thrive on the institutional weaknesses of our police
organisations.

Read next: What the Sahiwal shooting tells us about police culture

Given that we have been independent for over seven decades, we must ask: are colonial policies,
practices and laws perhaps suiting our political actors, its civil and military establishments, and
serving their interests? What else explains such blatant lack of will towards institutional reform,
inconsistencies in the application of existing laws and utter disregard for procedural justice?

The prevalence of police use of excessive and lethal force continues to raise these and many other
questions. In the 1990s, then interior minister, General (retired) Naseerullah Babar, propagated and
popularised the idea of "fighting terror with terror." This statement reflected not only Babar’s
military background, but it also foregrounded the idea of police terror that was present both before
and after Pakistan’s independence, and capitalised on it.
In 1973, an opinion in an English-language daily had criticised the "custodians of law and order,
namely, the police… [for] contributing their share in spreading terror among the people." In 1984, I.
A. Rehman wrote,

"Our police know only one method of investigation. Investigation more often than not means
extraction of confession under physical pressure. True, the law does not accept confessions obtained
under duress. Still the practice continues because the police officers know that once a confession,
however secured, is substantiated with evidence uncovered by the accused, the latter will be much
too concerned with the risk of conviction to complain of violence inflicted on him."

Thirty five years and a generation of police officers later, informal and extralegal procedures and
practices remain unchanged, and the philosophy of fighting terror with terror has become
institutionalised. In the 90s’ operations in Karachi, both the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM)
and the Sindh Police were known for utilising lethal techniques for gutting out information from
individuals in their confinement.

It was through the reports of the Crime Investigation Agency’s torture cells, established for political
victimisation, that the practice of cheera entered into public conscience as a method used by select
police officials to cause excruciating pain to the detained suspect by pulling his legs apart and
stretching them in opposite directions, suddenly or gradually.

On its part, the MQM had similarly established its torture centres to mirror the practices of the
police and inflict excessive violence on those accused of spying on behalf of the police and
intelligence agencies, escalating a vicious cycle of torture and terror that was symbolised in the bori
band laash.

This human rights crisis in Karachi, a product of torture, deaths in custody, enforced disappearances
and extrajudicial killings of political opponents designated as ‘terrorists’ has continued in the
ongoing Karachi Operation since 2013, legitimised through narratives of counterterrorism and partly
legalised through frameworks such as the Protection of Pakistan Act, 2014 and the amendments to
the 1997 Anti-Terrorism Act.

Over the years, news reports and investigations by journalists have provided in-depth insights into
torture and killings in police custody and illegal detentions. In 2010, in the aftermath of the incident
in Chiniot, one journalist quoted a deputy superintendent of the Punjab Police as claiming,

"Punishments in public create fear of the police among the public, and believe me 80 per cent of the
crime is controlled in this way… The low-ranked police officials who are 'famous' for using third
degree means are very popular among the high officials and many of them are deputed as
investigation officers to control crimes and criminals."
Also popular are police officials who can be patronised by politicians for carrying out politically
motivated violence. Accounts of torture detail not just the perpetration of violence on the part of
police officials, but have also exposed the nexus between crime, politics and policing.

In recent history, this has been evidenced in Karachi in the case of the Lyari gang war, where gang
leaders, themselves patronised by political parties, were able to select which police officials would
be posted at the police stations within Lyari. This selection could then determine which police
officials would be complicit in the torture and even murder of rival gang members.

Dawn Investigations: Rao Anwar and the killing fields of Karachi

The killing of Arshad Pappu is a case in point. In 2013, acting on the behest of Uzair Baloch and the
People’s Amn Committee, three police inspectors abducted Baloch’s rival Pappu and delivered him
to the former. Pappu’s brutal murder and beheading was video recorded and widely circulated.
Although the inspectors were arrested, the buck stopped there when it should have passed on to the
scapegoaters complicit in police use of lethal force.

In 2015, a serving senior officer of the Sindh Police publicly distinguished between the half fry and
full fry, a formula used to symbolise methods of police use of excessive and lethal force. Half fry
referred to the torture of suspects in police custody, while full fry referred to their extrajudicial
killings. In a statement, the officer said,

"Extrajudicial killings and other actions cannot be justified officially but society has come to accept
this 'modus operandi' of police to eradicate crimes and make streets safer... You can see police have
restored peace and order in the city through this modus operandi."

This statement echoes the multitude of claims made during this operation in Karachi as well as those
of the 90s. What it also reflects is the belief held by certain police officers (and perhaps many
members of our society) that such modus operandi is essential, legitimate and justified, if not legally
then morally.

Such attitudes towards vigilantism on the part of the police have been witnessed most staunchly in
the pedestalisation of police personalities such as Chaudhry Aslam and Rao Anwar and the reliance
on police encounter killings by both civilian and military regimes in Pakistan.

A selective review of the literature

Pakistan-centric research on policing has a long way to go. Nevertheless, a handful of studies provide
important insights on police violence. In 2008, for example, Chaudhry et al. examined over 1,800
victims of alleged police torture who were patients at the office of the Surgeon Medico legal in
Lahore.

In their study, they found that majority of the victims of police torture were men (91.5 per cent) and
those who belonged to lower socio-economic groups, such as the labour class from rural areas, were
victimised most frequently. In their description of the methods used against these victims, they write
that torture techniques included physical trauma caused by blunt objects, rolling heavy objects over
victims’ bodies, placing them over ice blocks, suspending them in air (by their limbs, or upside
down).

Physical torture was recorded through visible injuries ranging from skin abrasions to bone fractures.
Body parts most targeted during torture techniques included buttocks, soles of feet, chest, thighs,
palms and wrists. Victims were predominantly tortured by sticks and "broad, flat leather slipper(s)
dipped in mustard oil to increase the impact of pain."

Also read: 'Mr President, grant mercy to my daughter who was tortured into a false murder
confession'

In 2012, Mirza et al. carried out a cross-sectional, autopsy-based study over a period of six years
(2005-2010) on custodial deaths in Karachi, examining 61 cases of which 21pc were homicidal deaths
occurring from physical trauma resulting from torture. The study does not, however, indicate
whether such torture was inflicted by police and prison officials or fellow prisoners.

In 2017, scholars at the Heavy Industries Taxila, Wah and Rawalpindi Medical Colleges published a
study based on 318 autopsies performed at a hospital in Rawalpindi in 2015. They found that, of
these, at least eight people (seven males, one female) died due to police torture in Rawalpindi, most
likely during interrogation.

In 2012, Asad Jamal wrote on extrajudicial executions for the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan.
In his discussion on custodial deaths, Jamal found that between 1992 and 2009, the number of
deaths in police custody had declined, demonstrating that trends can shift over time.

Jamal recognises though that such statistics do not include the many incidents of police abuse that
do not get reported. Additionally, the report stresses that this decline was likely due to growing
media coverage of such incidents following which the identities of both victims and perpetrators are
revealed, and not necessarily due to cultural changes within the police or any significant policy
changes more generally.
As research by a police officer Kamran Adil shows, police violence continues to be legitimised when it
is said to be ‘necessary’ for extracting evidence, controlling crime (through encounter killings, for
example) or in compliance with court orders. Such legitimation hardly makes all forms of police
violence legal and is likely to allow the repetition of such practices (torture and extrajudicial killings),
even if the presence of watchdogs periodically deters the police and their patrons.

In-depth: How not to improve law and order in Karachi

In 2014, Justice Project Pakistan and Yale Law School’s Allard K. Lowenstein International Human
Rights Clinic published a detailed report on police torture in Faisalabad. The report was based on
allegations of police abuse and misconduct in Faisalabad between 2006 and 2018, and relied on
1,867 medio-legal certificates for physician evaluations, interviews with victims of police abuse and a
review of existing laws. The researchers found that in 1,424 of the 1,867 cases of alleged police
abuse (76pc), physicians had confirmed signs of physical abuse.

In 2016, Najm-ul-Sahr-Ata-Ullah and Saroop Ijaz wrote an extensive report for the Human Rights
Watch that documented custodial torture, extrajudicial killings and other forms of police abuse in
Pakistan. In the introductory section, they quote a police officer: "My staff and I are expected to be
on duty 24 hours a day. We are perpetually exhausted…. How can you expect people to work under
such conditions and not crack?"

The report is one of the few that adequately acknowledges the limitations and pressures of the
police, exposing the institutional fault lines and their exploitation by powerful social elites
(politicians, landowners, civil and military bureaucracy). It is this exploitation by powerful elites that,
I believe, should be thoroughly investigated in future research.

A call for institutional introspection

Recently, a senior police officer explained to me that the police has used torture primarily for the
following purposes: (1) to extract confessions, (2) to effect recoveries of stolen items (such as the
recent torture of a Vehari woman by the police), (3) to make extra money and (4) to appease a
‘master’ or a political patron (such as the torture of the MQM party workers).

In other discussions, police officers have pointed out that the use of torture and extrajudicial
practices by select police officials give the rest of the institution a ‘bad name’.

Countless recommendations have been provided by journalists, analysts and police officers on how
to positively change police organisations in Pakistan. These range from investments in police
recruitment, training and education, to independent oversight mechanisms that ensure
accountability (internal and external) and transparency, to higher salaries for police officials and
better resources for police stations and units and the digitisation of policing (including installing
cameras inside police lock-ups).

All of these are strong recommendations and I don’t doubt that police reform and freedom from
police torture go hand in hand, as police officers themselves have recognised.

Based on some of the readings above and my own research on policing, I want to offer a few reasons
as to why police officers themselves should rethink encouraging police abuse or ignoring its
prevalence.

Police abuse corrupts institutional memory:

The continued reliance upon torture and similar methods teaches low-ranked police officials that
acting outside and above the law, through informal procedures and practices, is routine and
justified.

It tells them that confessions extracted through torture and the elimination of criminals will amount
to positive professional achievements and good performance that will guarantee them job security
and accelerated promotions, not to mention the fattening up that comes with financial benefits
often accrued by policemen appeasing their political patrons.

Explore: Punjab's 'encounters' with sectarianism

New recruits are groomed by this thinking when they enter the organisation and it passes down to
others, generation after generation, which explains why every few years we see an outcry over
police abuse, ranging from torture to extrajudicial killings.

As Faisal Ali Raja, a senior police manager, has adequately stated, "the behavioral change under a
controlled environment at training colleges and schools is quite easy, but the real challenge begins
when a fresh recruit starts working in the field." The education the officer receives on the job has a
fundamental role to play in how fairly or unfairly he or she will behave with civilians.

It furthers the politicisation of policing

As Zaigham Khan recently wrote, "without the police, elections can’t be won, properties can’t be
seized and retained, and adversaries can’t be tamed." Knowing that select police officials and officers
can be employed for extralegal purposes, other state institutions rely on the police for carrying out
their dirty work.

This means that the civilian police remains vulnerable to external political influences and demands
and can be utilised as a tool for political killings and for suppressing dissent, opposition and other
challenges to the status quo.

Op-ed: Roots of custodial deaths

The police routinely claims that it is under pressure to deliver. This delivery of police performance in
the form of forced confessions and extrajudicial killings raises important questions on the politics
behind policing. Who is authorising such practices? Where are these pressures coming from? Police
officers know the sources better than anyone else.

Those who resist politicisation are vulnerable to transfers and suspensions. Those who don’t, expose
the rest of the rank-and-file to these external pressures, becoming – actively or passively – enablers
of police politicisation and subsequent abuse of power. Given that all policing is political, this is
perhaps the most challenging aspect of this profession.

It erodes police legitimacy:

Public trust in police organisations in Pakistan has generally been low. Allegations of torture and
killings further undermine the reputation of police officers and result in civilians harbouring a
negative image of the police, even if they have never actually interacted with police officers, because
of a perception of the thaana culture.

This means that civilians will be less likely to respect the authority of police officials or believe that
the police is the institution most adequate for maintaining order and public safety, encouraging
them to look elsewhere (to private or paramilitary agents, for example). A lack of public legitimacy
keeps the police demoralised, and police officers cynical.

It evidences an authoritarian subculture of policing:

Police culture generally has a poor reputation with embedded aspects such as cynicism, machoism,
suspicion, discrimination, conservatism and authoritarianism routinely highlighted. This is of course
grossly reductive, and it misses the important and complicated nuances within organisational
cultures, as well as their many positive attributes.
No doubt, not all police officers are mindlessly authoritarian. But practices and procedures can
nevertheless be authoritarian in nature, and they may very well be a product of authoritarian
political values in a country that projects itself as a democracy, which creates space for an
authoritarian subculture within police departments.

Authoritarian subcultures within organisations resist transparency, accountability and change; focus
is on exerting control and power; prioritise maintaining the writ of the state by force; and counter
the efforts of well-meaning officers who spend their careers dealing with the crises of police-
community relations.

The more things change…

In 1974, prominent political scientist Eqbal Ahmad wrote an article Pakistan – Signposts to a police
state, where he critically analysed the events, policies and practices during the then Pakistan
People's Party regime.

He warned that in Pakistan, repressive measures are increasing, as could be witnessed through an
expanding national security sector, the militarisation of the police, bureaucracy and civil society, the
institutionalisation of terror, clampdowns on media, the creation of specialised police units (such as
the Federal Security Force) and "the obvious indifference being shown to 'unofficial' violence and
terrorism against opponents of the government, and the emerging practice of systematic torture of
prisoners."

Although police torture featured marginally in Ahmad’s article, it was contextualised as being
indicative of increasing authoritarianism in Pakistan. I believe his insights are as relevant today as
they were 45 years ago.

PTI's one year: Fixing how we deal with the climate crisis

The planet is going to hell in a hand-basket and no one in Pakistan seems to care beyond a broad
policy discourse.

Ahmad Rafay AlamUpdated Sep 16, 2019 04:55pm

Something is wrong with how we approach the climate crisis in Pakistan. Being wrong on the climate
is picking a fight against nature: one that will have severe consequences for us and our children.

I was in Islamabad in late November 2018 for an event hosted by LEAD Pakistan, Pakistan at Global
Warming of 1.5°C – 2 °C: Capturing Opportunities and Managing Challenges. Dr Ghulam Rasul,
formerly the director general of the Pakistan Meteorological Department and now the regional
program manager of the Mountain Environment Regional Information System at the International
Center for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD), gave a presentation of his latest research
on the impacts of climate change in the Himalayan, Karakoram and Hindu Kush mountain ranges. It
was a startling preview of the mammoth ICIMOD Hindu Khush Himalaya Assessment Report.

Dr Rasul reported that the glaciers in these mountain ranges were extremely sensitive to climate
change — more sensitive than previously thought. According to his report, even if we somehow
miraculously manage to stop using fossil fuel today and keep global warming within the 1.5 degree
Celsius of pre-industrial levels by the end of this century under the Paris Agreement, these glaciers
could lose as much as 36 per cent of their volume. And if we can somehow miraculously confine
ourselves to a temperature increase of no more than 2°C under the Kyoto Protocol, these glaciers
stand to lose about 50pc of their volume.

At present, we stand a 10pc chance of overshooting this century’s 1.5°C target in just the next five
years. This handy Climate Clock tracks global warming to date and counts down how much time we
have left. But some business-as-usual models predict temperatures rising as much as 4-6°C by the
end of 2100.There will be no Himalayan, Karakoram and Hindu Kush glaciers left to melt by then.

Related: Climate change affects women more. What can the state do to intervene?

The climate crisis is a death foretold: not just a crime against the earth — an ecocide — but also a
genocide of the people of these mountain ranges. With no glaciers, no ice, an entire way of life will
collapse. To give this a sense of scale, in the rather gloomy The Uninhabitable Earth David Wallace-
Wells quotes from the work of Dr Drew Schindell and team that an increase in temperatures from
1.5°C to 2°C could result in as many as a 150 million deaths worldwide. There will be mass starvation
and in the countries (like ours) with coal-based energy and filthy fuels, the toxic air will kill tens of
millions. Let that sink in

Then there are wildfires in the Arctic, never experienced in our planet’s history. We’ve crossed 400
parts per million carbon concentration in the atmosphere. The last time carbon concentrations were
this high was over 800,000 years ago. There was 95pc species extinction then.

The climate crisis is here, and the scientists at the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on
Climate Change (IPCC) tell us that we have until 2030 to get things right. According to the UN:
“Without increased and urgent mitigation ambition in the coming years, leading to a sharp decline in
greenhouse gas emissions by 2030, global warming will surpass 1.5°C in the following decades,
leading to irreversible loss of the most fragile ecosystems, and crisis after crisis for the most
vulnerable people and societies.”

We know that Pakistan is vulnerable to the climate crisis. It’s not just the glaciers melting or floods
from erratic monsoons that we have to worry about. There are nearly a dozen distinct ecosystems in
Pakistan, from the mountains to the delta and everything in between, and each will be impacted
differently by the climate crisis. And since Pakistan is a poor country, it will be the poor who will be
disproportionately impacted. We know this.

We also know that Pakistan isn’t a big greenhouse gas emitter compared to countries like China or
the United States. We’ve complied with our commitments under the United Nations Framework
Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), the Kyoto Protocol and the Paris Agreement. But now our
grand plan is to build a highway through our mountain ranges up north and ply, daily, tens of
thousands of diesel spewing cargo trucks on it — in the middle of some of the most climate sensitive
parts of the planet, and home to the third-largest collection of freshwater. Planting one, 10 or 100
billion trees is only window dressing if you’re going to pollute the rooftop of the world.

We do have a climate policy. We also have the Pakistan Climate Change Act, 2017 and are one of the
few countries in the world that can boast actual climate legislation. But there is a massive disconnect
somewhere. Something’s not right. The planet is going to hell in a hand-basket and no one in
Pakistan seems to care beyond the broad policy discourse that I’ve summarised above. I think there
are two reasons for this. First, that we’re hiding behind the Principle of Common but Differentiated
Responsibilities (CBDR) as well as our ratification of the Paris Agreement. And second, that we’ve not
developed a locally contextualised discourse on the climate crisis.

Read next: Climate change does not need visas to cross borders

The Principle of CBDR goes back to the UNFCCC that was signed at the Earth Summit in Rio in 1992
and the historical inequity in greenhouse gas emissions. The objective of the UNFCCC is the
stabilisation of greenhouse gas concentrations in the atmosphere “at a level that would prevent
dangerous anthropogenic interference in the climate system.” At the time of the UNFCCC, global
carbon concentration in the atmosphere was approximately 356 parts per million. At the time of the
Industrial Revolution, they stood at about 280 parts per million.

But back in 1992, it was agreed that “such a level [of greenhouse gas concentration] should be
achieved within a time-frame sufficient to allow ecosystems to adapt naturally to climate change, to
ensure that food production is not threatened and to enable economic development to proceed in a
sustainable manner.”

Of course, none of this matters since we’ve crossed 410 parts per million for the first time this year.
On the International Day for Biological Diversity in May this year, the Intergovernmental Science-
Policy Platform warned that, presently, nature is declining at rates unprecedented in the 250,000
odd years of human history. And the rate of species extinction is rising rapidly.
The historical inequity is that since the Industrial Age, most greenhouse gases have been emitted by
countries in the Global North. Less developed countries weren’t to 'blame' for the impending climate
crisis, but they would be impacted by it. Many developing countries didn’t have the money or
economy to invest in climate adaptation and resilience. Clearly, it was the wealthy, developed
nations that were not only historically responsible for the emissions, but also had the economy and
money to invest in mitigation. A whole field of climate justice has evolved from here.

The Kyoto Protocol, signed in 1997 to implement the UNFCCC, embodies the Principle of CBDR. It
requires Annex-I countries — that is, developed countries — to mitigate their greenhouse gas
emissions and non-Annex-I countries — developing countries, like Pakistan — to adapt to the
impacts of the climate crisis. It envisioned a carbon trading scheme where investments from the
Global North to its South would bring necessary technology transfer and economic activity to
provide sustainable economic development.

Of course neither the UNFCCC or the Kyoto Protocol have worked. In the quarter century or so since
these international instruments were signed, the globe has emitted more greenhouse gas than the
quarter century before. At a global scale, as a species, we have done nothing but accelerate the
process of climate change and hasten our doom.

Also read: Is climate change depressing you too?

Given how little time the last IPCC report gives us to stabilise greenhouse gas emissions (by 2030),
and given how bad things are already, this is no time to stand behind niceties like the Principle of
CBDR. In any event, countries aren’t rich and poor on a binary scale. Affluence is along a spectrum,
with the affluent in many developing countries having consumption patterns and a carbon footprint
rivalling anything one could imagine in New York or Dubai. With the climate crisis, every person and
every country has to contribute to reduction in greenhouse gas emissions. Immediately.

The other thing that the Principle of CBDR does is give countries the ability to hide from their climate
responsibilities. Take President Jair Bolsonaro of Brazil, who has increased the intensity of
deforestation of the Amazon rainforest since taking office earlier this year. When told that the rate
of deforestation could lead to a climate tipping point, Bolsonaro hid behind the Principle of CBDR.
Brazil is not an Annex-I country, and has no obligation to mitigate or reduce greenhouse gas
emissions. Behaviour like this needs to be called what it is: ecocide. And we can’t let the Principle of
CBDR let people get away with it.

And then there’s us. With our dream highway through the mountains and the pivot away from a US-
centric security policy. Just like the promises of World Bank funding and the lure of the West during
the Cold War was too much to resist the inception of the Indus Waters Treaty and the consequent
devastation of the ecosystems of the Ravi and Sutlej basins, the CBDR has blinded us to what the
China–Pakistan Economic Corridor plan means for the global and local environment. Do we really
want an ecocide so that China can have a Plan B in case its South China Sea route is ever disrupted?

Another source of cognitive dissonance is the repeated exhortation that Pakistan has not only
ratified the Paris Agreement but is in full compliance. This needs to be better understood. The
questions of whether cabinet approval alone truly suffices as ratification for the purposes of the
Vienna Convention can be debated by experts, but what this clever exhortation ducks is the fact that
the Paris Agreement isn’t binding. It requires countries to voluntarily submit their contributions to
greenhouse gas reduction. As a developing country, Pakistan is allowed to “peak” its greenhouse gas
emissions post 2030 in order to maintain economic development.

And so the Principle of CBDR raises its head and we get cognitive dissonance again. In its Initial
Nationally Determined Contributions (INDC), submitted to the UN in 2016, Pakistan has not
committed to any reduction of greenhouse gas emissions. Instead, we’re taking advantage of the
fact that Pakistan is a developing country.

Our INDC deal with the Global North is that we’ll reduce these emissions by 20pc if we can get
between $7 to $14 billion per annum for the next decade. If you speak to any of the usual suspects
on this, you’ll be told that Pakistan is within its rights as a developing country to exploit its resources
for economic development. It’s as if they can’t see the elephant in the room. There is no better
evidence of this than the fact that we just commissioned a new coal-fired power plant.

So there’s no great achievement in complying with the Paris Agreement. The only good thing about
the INDC is that the Ministry of Climate Change is in the process of reviewing it and intends to file a
revised NDC. This will be a test of how much, if at all, the climate vision of this government is
different from the previous.

It is also a test of the Ministry of Climate Change, which operates under limited resources, to report
on dozens of international environmental agreements. Their operational responsibilities do not
answer to the climate crisis as it is manifesting itself in Pakistan. They’re not responsible for when
unseasonal rains knocked out a significant portion of the wheat crop in Punjab this April. Nor are
they responsible for the disaster relief necessary to cover a thousand families in Balochistan due to
unseasonal snow, rains and flooding this February.

They are, however, responsible to ensure Pakistan’s documentation and compliance of international
environmental agreements, and to represent the country in the numerous technical and other
meetings in relation to them. But the present government’s austerity regime means that the teams
representing Pakistan at climate and related UN meetings are unbelievably under capacity.
Take a look: Pakistan can produce renewable energy. So why do we continue to import pricey fossil
fuels?

The response to the climate crisis is one that is very much a provincial responsibility, but after nine
years since the 18th Amendment, no province has adopted a climate policy. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa
and Punjab may have draft policies ready, but neither have been approved by their respective
cabinets.

Right now, provincial politics is everywhere but on the climate crisis. And in my experience, lack of
provincial action on climate change is in large part due to the existence of the Ministry of Climate
Change at the federal level. “If there’s a federal ministry and a law and policy,” say the usual
suspects at the provincial level, “why should we interfere?” To date, there is no mechanism of
coordination between the federation and the provinces when it comes to the implementation of
international environment agreements.

The end result is that we’ve been unable to carve out a local understanding of how our climate,
environment and economy are linked. One can tell by the flavour of climate protests in the Global
North versus in the Global South.

Because of the Principle of CBDR, developed countries are responsible for mitigation over
adaptation. Protests there look towards the bad guys: the historical greenhouse gas emitters and
their beneficiaries. They direct their ire to the politics and the politicians who let these robber
barons mint money generation after generation while polluting the entire earth with their greed.

The climate discourse in Pakistan doesn’t have any bad guys other than those in the Global North.
The discourse here, stratified and technocrat that it is, does not speak any local language. In any
event, the Principle of CBDR has allowed for blame to entirely be cast outside our borders. You can
notice this when conversations about climate change inevitably turn into what to do about industrial
and plastic pollution — both environmental issues. And trees. There will be lots of talk about
planting trees. But climate change is not central; it's something that the developed countries are
responsible for, and we are in compliance with the Paris Agreement.

We’re told that the major impact of the climate crisis will befall the water sector, that we are already
water scarce and heading towards a water emergency. If this is so — and there is plenty to suggest
we’re not running out of water, but bear with me — then a fair question to ask would be, where
does all that water go?

The water resources of Pakistan are the monsoon rain, summertime glacial melt and reserves of
groundwater. This water, we are told, is mostly consumed in agriculture. Some people even quote
the figure of 90pc of annual water resources being diverted to agriculture. This may or may not be
true, but it serves as a good means of contextualising the debate.

The country's major crops are rice, sugar, cotton and wheat. It takes more than 2,000 litres of water
to produce a kilo of rice, and we produce upwards of five million tonnes of rice each year. Here’s the
rub: Pakistan exports more rice than it consumes locally. So if we’re running out of water, the Rice
Exporters Association of Pakistan hasn't gotten the memo.

Sugarcane, which is heavily subsidised already, is a famously thirsty crop. And the sugar business is
Pakistan’s largest after the textile industry. One of the by-products of sugar — ethanol — is highly
valued as food-grade alcohol abroad, and just last year the 18 distilleries operating in the country
exported about $425 million worth of product globally. If we’re running out of water, someone
should ask why the Islamic Republic is allowing the repackaging of its 'scarce' resource as ethanol to
be exported for private profit.

It takes nearly 8,000 liters of water to produce a pair of blue jeans. One can run this exercise through
all of our high-value or export items, including non-agricultural products (especially leather and
cement), and get the same result. If we’re running out of water, it isn’t because the water is running
out. It’s because water is being consumed by a handful of industries that are making riches exporting
their product to other countries. We’ve got plenty of water, and it’s making a handful of people rich.

Explore: A water policy for a Naya Pakistan

An understanding of the climate crisis through the lens of the Pakistani economy is what’s needed:
an articulation of the extreme poverty we face as a nation if our economy is waylaid, as it was in
Mozambique last year, by unexpected and unprecedented climate events. But we won’t get to such
discourse if, every time there’s a serious discussion on climate change, it gets waylaid by a casual
remark about the CBDR.

It’s time to re-examine the approach we've evolved on climate change in Pakistan. It’s time to
seriously re-examine all the policy positions we’ve taken for granted. The climate crisis is real and it
is upon us. So while Pakistan must develop a foreign policy that allows it to seriously negotiate
climate finance while holding developed countries to account for their historical role in polluting the
earth, Pakistani institutions must understand that the climate crisis is not something the Ministry of
Climate Change can save them from and that we have a responsibility to take serious measures to
reduce our greenhouse gas emissions.

This may take the form of improving fuel quality. It may take the form of changing agricultural
practices. It may take the form of reducing our meat consumption. But we cannot continue thinking
that climate change is not our problem.
Under PTI, a better law for Pakistan's Christians

The ruling party is about to propose a historic legislation that will improve the lives of over four
million citizens.

Yaqoob Khan BangashUpdated Sep 13, 2019 05:20pm

In the upcoming session of the National Assembly, the Minister for Human Rights Shireen Mazari is
supposed to present a proposed Christian Marriage and Divorce Act, 2019 for adoption. If passed,
this bill will repeal and replace the Christian Divorce Act, 1869 and the Christian Marriage Act, 1872.

After nearly 150 years, the laws governing Christians in Pakistan might be revised. Christians may
make a mere five per cent of the population of Pakistan, but these two laws deeply affected the lives
of almost all of the four million strong Christian population in the country, and it is high time that
they are updated.

Ameen Masih case

The impetus for a change in the law started when in late 2016, a Christian by the name of Ameen
Masih approached the Lahore High Court for relief. His prayer was not related to any discrimination
by the majority community, or lack of basic rights, or even a plea for protection against an often-
misused law. He approached the court in order to be able to seek a divorce from his wife without
accusing her of adultery.

In his petition, Masih contented that while his marriage had broken down, he did not want to allege
that his wife had committed adultery to obtain a divorce. He prayed that Section 7 of the Christian
Divorce Act, which stipulated that the then Indian courts follow the position of the English Divorce
courts, should be made available to him, under which the provisions of the English Matrimonial
Causes Act 1973 would apply, permitting him to get divorce from his wife on the grounds of the
breakdown of marriage.

Section 7, however, had been omitted from the Act by the Federal Laws Ordinance, 1981 under
General Ziaul Haq, and since then the main grounds for divorce for Christian men remained very
limited and largely involved an allegation of adultery or conversion.

Thus, the petitioner argued that such a situation was not only against fundamental rights, but also
forced the petitioners to lie. Masih’s petition brought to the fore critical issues related to the
Christian Divorce Act and the Christian Marriage Act, those nearly 150-year-old statutes that had
continued almost untouched in Pakistan despite independence.

The British and personal law

These two laws were the result of British legislation during the Raj. When the British came to India,
they saw it as a set of different religious communities, ignoring other distinctions of caste, region,
ethnicity.

Problematic as this ordering was, it gave rise to the notion of personal law in India. This meant that
in ‘personal’ matters — marriage, divorce, custody, inheritance — the religious law of a particular
community would be followed, while in other matters, common law would prevail.

This was, of course, a major limitation for well-formulated codes like the Sharia, but short of picking
the law of a certain religious community wholesale and imposing it on the rest of India, the British
thought that this was the most suitable manner in which religious sensibilities could be assuaged
and also a common code devised for civil and criminal matters that do not come under the purview
of personal law.

Thus, in the years following, the British enacted several personal laws which governed different
aspects for Parsis, Hindus, Muslims and also Christians. While these were religious pronouncements
in a certain sense in that they regulated affairs according to religious principles, they were not
religious laws per se.

Related: Why divorce is close to impossible for Christians in Pakistan

In other words, these laws did not obliterate the different emphasises and interpretations of various
sects within a religion, but created a general parameter within which interpretation of law could
occur for members of a particular religious community. Case law was then supposed to further fine
tune these provisions, and also allow for different interpretations between sects.

In terms of Christian personal law, the two major statutes introduced in India by the British were the
Christian Divorce Act, 1869 and the Christian Marriage Act, 1872. Even though Christians were still a
very small number in the British Indian Empire at that time, their growing numbers through mass
conversions, and issue of irregularities, led to the enaction of these two laws.

Previously, English law directly applied to Christians in India. These new laws also largely followed
the then British law, but created a provision for changes to be made if locally desired. The law on
marriage recognised the clergy of the Church of England, Church of Scotland and the Catholic
Church, while allowing other ministers and even lay people to apply for a licence to solemnise
marriages.

The divorce law, again, reflected contemporary England and only allowed it in the case of adultery,
bigamy, rape, sodomy, bestiality or a combination thereof with desertion. A section also allowed for
a petition for divorce in case of conversion to another religion by a spouse, recognising the local
reality in India.

2017 LHC judgment

Returning to the case of Ameen Masih, Justice Mansoor Ali Shah, the then Chief Justice of the Lahore
High Court, in his judgment declared that since the 1981 law was under an undemocratic regime,
and since no consultations were ever held with the Christian churches or leaders before its omission,
the deletion of Section 7 from the Christian Divorce Act, 1869 was unconstitutional.

Therefore, he allowed the petition and permitted Masih to divorce his wife relying on the British law,
which permitted it under the irretrievable breakdown of marriage provision.

More significantly, Justice Shah noted that while he had taken the views of the Christian churches in
the matter, this law was a state — ie, civil — law that regulated the affairs of a religious community.
Hence, it was in no way changing Biblical law (as some were alleging) or forcing any church to accept
divorce under its provisions.

Read next: The spatial politics of Lahore's Hindu temples

In fact, the Catholic Church does not recognise divorce at all, and neither this petition nor even the
whole Act of 1869 has ever compelled it to accept the concept of divorce. Hence, purely religious
law within denominations was not at all affected by this judgement and only the civil aspect was
being changed.

While the judgement of Justice Shah gave relief to the petitioner, and made life easier for numerous
others, it raised an important point: how could Pakistan, as an independent country, allow the law of
another country to be followed with respect to the personal law of a certain community of its own
citizens?

Christians in Pakistan are Pakistani citizens and almost 100% of them are of local origin. The small
percentage of Anglo-Indians and Goans is also almost wholly Pakistani born, and so there is no
reason for an alien connection for their personal law.

Where there are still connections between churches in Pakistan and the United Kingdom, the fact
that Pakistani Christians were to be governed by English law in matters of divorce was not only an
affront to their Pakistani identity, but also infringed upon their fundamental rights where they, as
citizens, should have their laws enacted by their own parliament.
A new law

In the wake of the Masih case, serious attempts were made by the then government of the Pakistan
Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N) to formulate revisions.

Led by Senator Kamran Michael, who was also a minister in the PML-N government, several rounds
of consultations were held with Christians. These meetings started in earnest with a large
consultation in Islamabad on August 10, 2016 where 38 people participated in the discussion. This
was followed by another large discussion forum in Lahore on April 4, 2017 where 56 people
participated.

Thereafter, due to the increasingly unstable government and the looming elections, nothing
concrete was achieved until the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf government took office.

When the new minister for human rights, Shireen Mazari, came to the helm of affairs, she seriously
took up the mantle of finally bringing the changes to light. She restarted the process of consultations
and within a period of just about a year, held several consultations with Christian leaders over the
Act.

Also read: The ongoing struggle of Punjabi Christians

Thus in total, the Ministry of Human Rights held nine such consultative meetings between 2016 and
2019 with members of the Christian community. In all of these meetings, several issues were raised,
many revisions suggested and a number of amendments noted to the two Acts.

Simultaneously, several church leaders and Christian civil society organisations also began to hold
their own consultations. The National Commission for Justice and Peace (NCJP) formed in 1985 by
the Pakistan Catholic Bishops’ Conference, the Church of Pakistan and the Presbyterian Church in
Pakistan led the way in creating a group of clerics and others, while organisations like the Centre for
Social Justice and others brought together civil society leaders and human rights advocates together
with religious leaders.

Thus, by the autumn of 2019, it was clear that a lot of work and thought had been given to the issue
and a new draft for the Christian Marriage and Divorce Act, 2019 was prepared by the Ministry of
Human Rights, keeping in view the several rounds of consultations and suggestions received from
Christian leaders and activists throughout Pakistan.

Delicate process
While the consultative process was indeed commendable and the efforts of the Ministry of Human
Rights and Minister Mazari laudable, several issues also came to the fore during the consultation
process which exhibited its fraught nature.

First, usually an act of this type is shepherded by some members of parliament who either hail from
the particular religious community, or represent it, or have a keen knowledge, either academic or
practical, about it.

In this case, the parliamentary leadership fell mainly on the shoulders of the Christian members of
parliament who had been appointed to their seats by party leaderships. Since these
parliamentarians were never actually elected and got their positions through a party list, from the
outset their legitimacy was under question.

While they were Christian by religious profession, this was their sole claim to representation. Almost
all of them had no background in either social, educational or charity work that would make them
stand out as natural leaders. Nearly all of them had risen in the ranks of a party due to patronage
rather than support of the grassroots.

MNA Shunila Ruth herself pointed out this problem at a consultation, and noted that the only way
she can advocate for Christian (and minority) rights is when she is fully supported by the community.
Such support and therefore representation still needs to be worked on.

Moreover, almost all these Christian parliamentarians were unable to understand the nuances of
both the Acts and failed to clarify and emphasise the actual nature of the old Acts and the reasons
behind the proposed changes. Of course, this has to do with the fact that there are only a handful of
Christian members of either the National Assembly or the Senate, and so it would be unfair to
expect them to understand the intricacies of a law which is civil but has religious implications.

In-depth: State of fear

Secondly, a major flaw in the process is that it is seen as primarily a religious issue, and so the
consultations have focused heavily on Christian religious leaders. While it is true that the law will
mainly deal with people professing the Christian faith, yet, as explained above, and very clearly in
the judgment of Justice Shah, these laws are civil laws, not religious ones.

Therefore, while consultations with Christian religious leaders are fine, depending on their
acquiescence for the proposed changes is not correct. This is because the proposed changes neither
affect the particular law of churches and nor do these leaders need to accept these changes.
For example, the Catholic Church, worldwide and also in Pakistan, does not accept divorce. Hence, it
has never accepted the provisions of the Christian Divorce Act, 1869 either and nor will it accept any
version of it in the future. This is because Catholics around the world and in Pakistan are governed
by the Canon Law of the Catholic Church. The same is true for most mainline churches, like the
Church of Pakistan and the Presbyterian Church, both of which have their own canon law that
regulates such matters.

Furthermore, as has become apparent, any attempt to get a consensus among various Christian
religious leaders over marriage and divorce is simply futile. This is because different denominations
have very divergent views on the issues of marriage and divorce.

For example, the Catholic Church, as noted above, does not accept the concept of divorce under any
circumstances. Instead, it uses the concept of annulment which, after due process, ends the
marriage as if it never happened. On the issue of marriage, the Catholic Church sees it as a
sacrament ordained by God, which can only be dissolved by death.

The Church of Pakistan, which largely follows the Church of England, also sees marriage as a
sacrament but allows for divorce under certain circumstances. However, the Church of Pakistan does
not allow for a divorcee to remarry as long as their earlier spouse is still alive. Some Protestant
churches also see marriage as an indissoluble covenant and only allow divorce on the basis of
adultery. There are also divergent views on remarriage.

Moreover, while the Ministry of Human Rights wholeheartedly invited a very broad cross section of
the Christian community for consultation, the reality was that very few of the religious leaders had
any real claim of representation, and even among those who did, their numbers varied widely.

For example, the Catholic Church in Pakistan is the largest Christian church in the country, with over
50pc of the Christian population adhering to it. They are followed by the Church of Pakistan which
claims another 25pc, while the Presbyterian Church of Pakistan counts another 10-15pc of the
Christian population of the country. The rest of the 15-20pc of the Christian population is spread
over numerous, perhaps even thousands, of small denominations and house churches, which are
almost impossible to count.

Therefore, bringing all of these religious leaders on the same platform and treating them the same
cannot work as they do not represent a commensurate group of people and differ greatly in terms of
numbers, organisation and stability.

Check out: What drives calls for giving Ahmadis a distinct identity
Thirdly, the involvement of NGOs in the process is certainly welcome and essential, but there are
severe limitations as to their ability in helping the process. This is largely because most NGOs which
either focus on Christians in Pakistan or are Christian-led, focus on issues of human rights.

Almost all such NGOs are ill-equipped to aid in the process of the revision of laws on marriage and
divorce. Very few of them have any lawyers associated with them, and even then very few legal
experts have an understanding of the development of Christian marriage and divorce laws both in
Pakistan and abroad.

Among the few who have an understanding of such issues are Jennifer Jivan of the Christian Study
Centre in Rawalpindi, Joseph Francis of Centre for Legal Aid Assistance and Settlement and Peter
Jacob of the Centre for Social Justice. Besides them, and a few others, there are hardly any people in
the NGO sector who have any competence to comment on such issues.

Furthermore, each of the three groups — political leaders, church leaders and the NGOs — had an
expectation that their views would prevail solely, but the job of the ministry was and is to listen to
everyone, propose a law that takes into consideration all the recommendations instead of allowing
one section to dominate the other, as well as to ensure that the law corresponds well with Pakistan’s
other laws and human rights regulations.

Therefore, while consultations were and are essential, the ministry has the final say in the version of
the bill that will be presented in parliament. The ministry, of course, has to explain its position, and
perhaps a position paper is due in this regard, but needs to also ensure that a law is indeed
presented in parliament and enacted.

Provisions and revisions of the proposed Act

The current draft of the Act brings to the fore some needed changes after revisions. Major among
them is the raising of the marriage age for both men and women to 18 years. While the
determination of marriage age is of some controversy in Islamic legal circles, Christian thought and
theology is unanimous about the age of consent.

Furthermore, it proposes that both the husband and wife have the same grounds for divorce.
Previously, the husband could only petition the court for divorce when the wife had committed
adultery. Now, there is an allowance for both the husband and the wife to petition the court for
divorce for a larger number of reasons.
At first, there were several critical issues that remained unaddressed. However, once revisions were
suggested to the Minister of Human Rights, she immediately examined them and incorporated the
changes in the proposed Act.

Personally speaking, I was amazed at the level of personal interest, keenness and receptivity the
minister showed in this regard. The legislation has certainly come this far due to the personal efforts
of the minster and she must be commended for it.

Discover: 5 gurdwaras that could be made part of Kartarpur Corridor

Since I was deeply involved in these new revisions, let me explain a few of them, all of which have
been accepted by the ministry and incorporated in the proposed Act.

First, a major revision in the proposed Act was the removal of the definition of a Christian. While it
might be possible to come up with a definition that most churches accept, the view was that it was
not a civil issue and therefore best left to the individual churches and the conscience of the people.

With having seen the experience of the majority community in this country in defining who belongs
to a religion, it was important that such fissures are not introduced into a small community, where
such issues could end up being equally explosive.

Secondly, the revision allowed for the solemnisation of Christian marriages in places other than a
church or chapel. This was added to recognise the present reality where marriages take place not
only in churches but marriage halls, houses and even in destination weddings.

Thirdly, the proposed Act has removed all references to the Registrar General of Births, Marriages
and Deaths. While this office has historical significance and the office still remains, the law in force in
the country stipulates that a marriage be first registered at the local Union Council and then at the
National Database and Registration Authority offices.

Harmonising the registration of Christian marriages, something which the Bishop Emeritus of Lahore
Alexander John Malik had even taken to the Supreme Court, has to be in accordance with the
prevailing law and in consonance with how marriages of other communities are registered by the
state.

Fourthly, in the provision for divorce, the revision introduced the notion of violence as understood in
the modern sense. This was a major human rights intervention in making the law more equitable
and women friendly. There are several instances where violence is not just physical but
psychological, economic and otherwise, and the recognition of its grave nature is an essential human
right.

Thus, the definition of violence was introduced in this Act as grounds for divorce, to include “any
offence committed against the human body of the aggrieved person including abetment of an
offence, domestic violence, sexual violence, psychological abuse, economic abuse, stalking or a
cybercrime.”

Fifthly, in the provision for divorce, the revision added that a lack of understanding of matrimonial
rights and obligations could also lead to dissolution of marriage. Reflecting the provision in Catholic
Canon Law, which is also present in Anglican Canon Law and in the law of other churches, this
provision notes that a lack of understanding of what marriage actually entails, the responsibilities
towards the spouse, children and the family, could also lead to an end of the marriage. The
proposed Act, therefore, not only reflects similar provisions in the Canon Law but, for the first time,
provides it to Christians in the civil law of Pakistan.

Sixthly, the revision improved the language of the proposed Act and brought it in line with current
terminologies. It removed words like ‘idiot’ and ‘lunatic’ as grounds for an annulment and replaced it
with ‘mental disorder’ to cover a wide range of mental and psychological issues. This is a recognised
ground for annulment both in the Catholic and Anglican Churches as well as most other mainline
Christian churches throughout the world.

Seventhly, the revision focused on the issue of alimony the woman receives as part of the interim or
final settlement. In the earlier draft, it was fixed at one-fifth, which was thought to be too less.
Raising it to “at least one-fourth”, the revision ensured that, at the very least, one-fourth of the
husband’s income should go for the upkeep of the former wife and children, and that the court,
keeping in view the reality of the situation, might even increase it as it sees fit.

Explore: How shrines helped indigenise Islam and Christianity in South Asia

And finally, the revision removed the remnant of Article 7 of the Christian Divorce Act, 1869 that had
survived as Article 49 in the proposed Act, stipulating that the provisions of this proposed Act were
to be read in conformity with the principles and rules of the Divorce and Matrimonial Causes Court
in England. Since Pakistan is now an independent country with its own laws, and also because such a
reference infers that the Pakistani Christian community is in some ways foreign, the whole article
was deleted.

These and some other changes accepted by the ministry in the proposed Act made it modern,
comprehensive and women friendly. This revision was led by an expert team which included, besides
me, Bishop Emeritus of Lahore Alexander John Malik and Peter Jacob. Several others also gave their
input in the process, including lawyer Jamshed Rahmatullah, Vicar General of Rawalpindi-Islamabad
Diocese Asif John, Fahmida Saleem of the Christian Study Centre, NCJP’s executive director Cecil
Shane Chaudhry and Jennifer Bennette.

The strength of this group was that it was a mixed group of religious leaders, scholars, legal experts
and activists who had the expertise and experience to comment on such proposed legislation. The
revision proposed by this group was not church- or activist/NGO-led. They were led by a deep
understanding of Christian thought, a knowledge of the laws of various churches, decades of
pastoral experience and an ability to work with the ministry to make the proposed law more
comprehensive.

No more delay

The openness with which the Ministry of Human Rights embraced these revisions certainly shows
their eagerness to ensure that a holistic and good law is presented before parliament.

All laws in a country are a work in progress and that is why we have the parliament. All legislation is
proposed and passed with good intentions, but time, more knowledge and experience mandates its
improvement.

The proposed Act might still have some minor issues, but those small things should not keep it from
being presented in parliament and passed into law. If there are critical issues that come up later,
amendments can certainly be brought in at a later stage.

This is certainly a historic and much needed legislation and directly affects the lives of over four
million citizens of Pakistan. Any more delay in the presentation of the bill will only lead to more
suffering.

Why Lahore gets flooded every year — and how to stop it

It's time to prepare the city for the climate crisis.

Dawar Hameed ButtUpdated Aug 09, 2019 04:43pm

D uring the day-long rain spell on 16th July, Lahore’s famous Lakshmi
Chowk received more than 250 millimetres of rainfall. To put things into
perspective, the average rainfall for the whole month of July (mean from
1961-1990) for the city is 202mm.
In 1996, Lahore received 496mm of rain in 36 hours during a monsoon spell,
breaking all records in recent memory. The Ravi, which at the time was unhindered
on the Indian side, overflowed and most of Lahore flooded.

It was an anomaly that has not been repeated since as the water flows have
massively declined in the last two decades. But the Ravi does not need to overflow
to have Lahore flooded.

A combination of above-average rainfalls and over-development has made the city

regularly witness pluvial flooding (urban flooding caused by excess rainfall and
slow drainage flows), for which no cure or mitigation has been devised.

Lahore, probably Pakistan’s most developed metropolis, has become critically

vulnerable to pluvial flooding. Year after year (2015, 2018), the rain causes
considerable infrastructural damage, while many citizens lose their lives due to
related accidents.

Increasing urbanisation and decreasing green spaces.

As Lahore’s urban sprawl has grown, the city managers have largely failed to cater
to its drainage needs. This simply means that, while housing societies, concrete
boulevards, flyovers, underpasses, high-rises and signal-free corridors have popped
up all over the city, green spaces and the urban tree canopy has had to bear the
brunt of these developments. At the same time, Lahore’s drainage system capacity
has also declined.

By the same author: No, India is not responsible for Punjab’s smog. Here’s
what’s really happening

The city is served by eight main drains: Central, Lower Mall, Chota Ravi, Alfalah,
Gulberg 1 and 2, Edward Road, Mian Mir and Gulshan-i-Ravi. 76 tributary drains
are connected to them. Combined, they make up a lengthy network of 180
kilometres, with a theoretical carrying capacity of nearly 6,500 cusecs. But
urbanisation and reduction of green spaces has increased the strain on these
waterways.
Lahore's vast system of drains and sewers. — Jica
Lahore’s tree cover fell by 72 percent from 12,359 trees in 2007 to just 3,520 in
2015. The main drains are always vulnerable to siltation as the surface runoff
deposits large amounts of sediment into them. A Japan International Cooperation
Agency (Jica) study in 2004 revealed that nearly 400,000 cubic metres of sediment
deposits had gathered in these drains, which were gradually removed by the Water
and Sanitation Authority (Wasa) with assistance from Jica.

The sediment deposits reduce the carrying capacity of the drains, making them less
and less effective in times of heavy rainfalls. With reductions in green cover and
water absorption into the soil, and increased surface runoff of sediment into the
drains, Lahore can no longer deal with the monsoon.

Loss of tree cover in Lahore district. — Punjab Clean Air Action Plan
Just a few years after the Wasa reclamation project, pluvial floods struck Lahore in
2007 and 2008. They wreaked havoc in the city’s northern quarters, which are also
the oldest and most densely populated. Localities including Lakshmi Chowk,
Bhatti Gate, Empress Road, Cooper Road and Chaburji were inundated,
reminiscent of the 1996 episode.

These episodes have grown more frequent. While cumulative rainfall during
monsoon has remained in the normal range, the intensity of single rainfall events
has risen. Above-average single rainfalls occurred in Lahore in 2010, 2014, 2015
and 2018. Enough meteorological data is present to attribute these anomalies to the
global climate crisis.

In a report published by the Pakistan Meteorological Department's Global Change

Impact Study Center, researchers have predicted that, with rising temperatures,
rainfall events in Lahore during monsoon will become more and more extreme.

Monsoon winds are driven towards high-temperature inlands. The urban heat

island effect generated due to Lahore’s accelerated development and urbanisation
could become a cause of such extreme events. The urban heat island means that
temperatures within the urban part of the district are higher than the peripheral and
adjoining rural areas. The resulting differences can concentrate rain clouds over
such hot spots.

Related: Cities, climate change and Pakistan’s extended urbanisation

Future-proofing Lahore requires serious changes in the city’s current urbanisation

trajectory, as well as capacity building of critical agencies and departments. A
master plan for Lahore’s sewerage and drainage systems is needed. But financial
cuts — from having a budget of around Rs18bn for Wasa in 2017 down to Rs9bn
in 2019 — don't help.

With the reasons for pluvial flooding well understood, city managers must prepare
in advance. Sustainable urban development practices, climate-sensitive city
planning, capacity building of Wasa and creatively using Lahore's geography can
provide reasonable safety nets for people to survive through monsoon spells.

The Pakistan Meteorological Department had predicted a normal to above-normal

monsoon for this region well in advance this year, but the government’s
plan emerged only a few days ahead of the spell, and was one of disaster
management rather than prevention.

In an era of highly developed climate models, the district government and Wasa
should prepare beforehand to prevent flooding. The preparations require a sizable
mobilisation of government apparatus, and should follow a step-by-step strategy:
rehabilitate, respond and reform.

Drainage failure occurs due to siltation and extreme rainfall events. — Illustration
by the author
As is evident, Lahore’s entire drainage system needs regular maintenance,
requiring advanced machinery such as hydraulic excavators, specialised pumps and
trash-raking equipment. If Wasa is empowered and well-resourced, it would be
able to mobilise resources once the rain predictions have been made several weeks
ahead of time.

Drains, both major and minor, also need to be lined with trees of various native
species to create a buffer against outflows and reduce surface runoff.
Read next: Exploring why Karachi's rainwater has nowhere to go

City planners have to rethink urban development as well. Pluvial flooding is not a
developing world issue; Rotterdam, after suffering from numerous such episodes,
is now dealing with this problem using what is dubbed as water squares. Parks and
grounds, with abundant trees and at a lower elevation, allow for absorption of
water, and act as temporary reservoirs during storms. An underground reservoir
can both hold water during storms and allow it to percolate into the aquifer.

Urban housing can similarly be designed to prevent flooding of roads and houses,
with the landscape formulated in a way to provide necessary safeguards.

Changes within existing infrastructure can provide safeguards against flooding. —

Illustration by the author
These changes can prepare the city for the long-term impacts of the climate crisis,
though these are likely not enough, and a thorough review of the city’s current
development and growth trajectory is also required.

As another spell of rainfall looms over Lahore, it is the right time for citizens and
planners to start preparing for this century.

Pakistan’s Iran conundrum

It’s hard to identify any country that benefits from relentless US efforts to tighten the screws on Iran.

Michael KugelmanUpdated May 22, 2019 04:15pm

On November 21, 1979, Pakistani protesters stormed the United States embassy in Islamabad. They
smashed windows and set fire to the building. By the time the Pakistani military had quelled the
violence, the embassy had sustained extensive damage and several people — both Americans and
Pakistanis — had died.
The attack came at a tense moment for US-Pakistan relations. Several months earlier, Washington
had cut aid to Islamabad over concerns about a new Pakistani uranium enrichment facility.

It came at an even tenser moment for Washington’s relations with Tehran. Iran’s Islamic revolution
had played out over the previous months, with the pro-US monarchy having been overthrown and
replaced by Ayatollah Khomeini. Two weeks before the assault on the US embassy in Islamabad,
Iranian radicals had seized the American embassy in Tehran.

In fact, the attack on the American facility in Pakistan was triggered in part by a radio message
broadcast by Khomeini in which he falsely claimed that the US was behind an assault on the Grand
Mosque in Mecca that had taken place the day before.

Editorial: Gulf tensions

The siege of the US embassy in Pakistan represented the most explosive moment for the US-Iran-
Pakistan triangle — one that over the last 40 years has been marked by a hostile US-Iran
relationship, a US-Pakistan partnership that has vacillated between cordial and confrontational and a
delicate Iran-Pakistan relationship that has played out in the shadow of a Saudi state that is the
former’s bitter rival and the latter’s close ally.

A big question for this volatile triangle today is what Washington’s increasingly hard line on Iran
might mean for Pakistan — and particularly as Prime Minister Imran Khan, through some strikingly
pro-Iran messaging and a key recent visit to Tehran, has telegraphed a desire to take a more
explicitly neutral position in the Saudi-Iranian regional rivalry.

The answer underscores just how counterproductive an aggressive US position on Iran can be:
American pressure on Iran undoubtedly disadvantages Islamabad — but it also imperils
Washington’s own interests, as well as those of its closest friends in the broader region.

In reality, it’s hard to identify any country that benefits from relentless US efforts to tighten the
screws on Iran, particularly if the two sides find themselves on a collision course that leads to a
military confrontation.

For Pakistan, deepening US-Iran tensions and the risk of confrontation make all the more challenging
Islamabad’s efforts to maintain a position of studied neutrality in the Iran-Saudi Arabia dispute.
Riyadh — already enjoying some new leverage after its recent $3 billion gift to Pakistan — could
pressure Islamabad to side with the Saudis in an unfolding US-Iran crisis.
Washington’s hardline Iran policy also poses problems for Pakistan’s energy security. The US
sanctions regime hampers the ability of Pakistan, a nation badly in need of foreign energy resources,
to acquire hydrocarbons from a top global supplier (nearly 90 per cent of Pakistan’s energy needs
are currently met by imported crude and petroleum products from the Middle East).

And Washington’s tough sanctions on Tehran essentially ensure that the much-hyped Iran-Pakistan
gas pipeline remains dead in the water.

Also read: A neutral posture

And then there is America. Aside from providing an excuse for US Iran hawks to engage in some
chest thumping, it’s hard to imagine an increasingly hardline Iran policy producing positive results
for Washington.

Indeed, the worst-case scenario — the American use of force against Iran — would destabilise a
Mideast region that has long been a powder keg and a source of concern for US policymakers. Even
outcomes short of war, such as sky-high bilateral tensions and repeated US threats, spell trouble for
American interests.

Here, consider the war in Afghanistan. Longstanding ill will in US-Iran relations has meant that
Washington can’t consider using Iranian territory as part of an alternate supply route to convey Nato
materiel to and from Afghanistan, should the current route in Pakistan be closed down — as it was
during the serious crisis in US-Pakistan relations in 2011 and 2012.

Instead, Washington would have to depend on alternate routes through Central Asia, which are not
only more circuitous and expensive than the Pakistani one, but also vulnerable to the machinations
of Moscow. Nato’s Russian rival could try to hamper access to those alternate routes located in what
it regards as its sphere of influence.

Additionally, US pressure on Iran raises the possibility that Tehran could retaliate by providing
episodic arms support to the Taliban — assistance that US and Afghan officials suspect has already
been provided, particularly during the insurgents’ offensive in the western Afghan province of Farah,
bordering Iran, last year.

Afghanistan, therefore, also suffers from Washington’s tough Iran policy. And so does India, the
other top US partner in South Asia. The Iran sanctions regime hurts New Delhi’s energy interests,
which look to Iran as a key partner, and its efforts to develop the Chabahar port project in southern
Iran.
Meanwhile, Iran’s Gulf neighbours, including Saudi Arabia, could suffer highly deleterious effects
from a continued US-Iran confrontation — none more so than regional destabilisation (though to be
sure, any higher global oil prices that result from a fresh Mideast conflagration would be a boon for
these energy-producing states).

As for Israel, arguably America’s most critical ally, if Iran were to be hit by US firepower, Israeli
territory could well be one of the first targets of Iran-sponsored reprisals.

Explore: Pakistan and the web of international economic corridors

And yet, even with so many different countries affected by US-Iran tensions, Pakistan finds itself in a
uniquely vulnerable position.

Islamabad has significant relationships with Iran’s US and Saudi rivals. It features a Shia population
that according to the academic Vali Nasr exceeds 30 million (the largest number of Shias outside
Iran). And it shares a border with Iran, so a potential US-Iran conflict could have direct spillover
effects for Pakistan.

In the coming weeks, if US-Iran relations continue to deteriorate, Pakistan could find itself under
increasing pressure from both Riyadh and Washington to distance itself from Tehran.

Fortunately for Pakistan, there are two pieces of good news here. First, history shows that Islamabad
has successfully managed to withstand pressure from both partners.

Pakistan never formally took a side in the Iran-Iraq war, despite Washington’s preference for it to be
firmly in the Iraq camp. And in more recent years, Islamabad resisted Saudi Arabia’s attempt to drag
it into Riyadh’s war in Yemen.

Second, President Trump’s tendency to resort to sudden about-faces means that a march towards
war is by no means assured. He hinted in recent days that he may be receptive to negotiations with
Tehran.

Read next: Why did US blacklist Pakistan for religious freedom violations?
Still, this much is true: US policy towards Iran isn’t about to magically become more conciliatory
anytime soon — including after Trump has left office.

Much ink has been spilled about all the anti-Pakistan feeling in Washington. And yet, the US capital’s
deep and often bipartisan hostility towards Iran makes its sentiment towards Pakistan seem jolly by
comparison. Perhaps it’s because of the Iranian revolution, the serious threat that US policymakers
think Iran poses to Israel, or their belief that Tehran sponsors and stages acts of instability.

Indeed, there are striking similarities between how many in Washington view Tehran and Islamabad:
they are both perceived as destabilising players that use militant proxies to cause problems for US
interests and American friends.

At any rate, whatever the reasons may be, Washington’s hostility towards Iran is real and relentless.
In this regard, President Barack Obama’s bold move in 2015 to extend an olive branch and work with
other world powers to conclude a nuclear deal with Tehran should be seen as an anomaly, not a new
precedent, for US policy.

Consequently, Pakistan — and the rest of the world — may be spared a conflict between the United
States and Iran. But this toxic and confrontational relationship, and the challenges it poses for
Pakistan and the world, is likely to endure for quite some time.

After the budget: What's missing in Pakistan's export promotion policy?

The low value-added nature of exports is due to the limited focus on structural issues.

Ahmed Jamal Pirzada | Talha J. PirzadaUpdated Sep 26, 2019 03:48pm

In his book Growth and Inequality in Pakistan, former Minister for Finance and Economic Affairs Dr
Hafiz Pasha notes that the decline in Pakistan’s “ability to service external debt … is clearly
demonstrated by the phenomenal increase in the external debt to exports ratio.”

Based on our calculations, the external debt to exports ratio has worsened from 246 per cent of
exports in FY13 to 427pc in FY19. This has come to haunt the economy as the government continues
to adopt demand compression measures to contain the balance of payments crisis. While this may
be unavoidable, the government must formulate appropriate export-promoting policies if Pakistan is
to avoid another similar crisis.
At a macro level, both the previous and current governments have taken several steps towards
promoting exports. The most important of these measures is the depreciation of the currency
exchange rate, which was started in December 2017.

In a recent paper, one of us shows that all of the slowdown in quantity of exports between 2015 and
2018 can be explained by the appreciation of the real effective exchange rate. Since then, exchange
rate devaluations have helped to promote exports.

The State Bank of Pakistan (SBP) data shows that the quantity of exports has increased significantly
during the first half of FY19. Data from the SBP further reveals that exports (in rupee terms) have
increased by 24pc year-on-year over the same period.

—State Bank of Pakistan

More recent measures aimed at promoting exports include the decrease in custom duties on raw
materials (April 2018, Sep 2018, March 2019 and June 2019), rationalisation of energy costs (Dec
2018), increase in the scale of SBP’s long-term lending facility (April 2019) and the partial resolution
of refunds (April 2019).

The resolution of refunds has been a long-standing demand of exporters. It is easy to appreciate that
business revenue is the cheapest source of finance available to any business. However, with funds
stuck at the Federal Board of Revenue, firms had to rely on expensive external finance to run
business operations. With the release of refunds in the form of cash and promissory notes, the cash
flow of exporting firms should improve.

The measures listed above should continue to have a positive effect on exports in the coming
months. On average, it takes between four to six quarters before exports (in terms of quantity)
respond to changes in prices.

However, despite significant improvement in the quantity of exports, the SBP data demonstrates
that the year-on-year increase in dollar value of exports has remained minimal at 1.9pc for the first
half of FY19. More recent data for FY19 does not point to any increase in the dollar value of exports
compared to FY18 either.

This is because, since most of Pakistan’s exports are low value-added, exporters can only compete in
the international market by lowering the dollar price of their products. The implication is that, while
the quantity of exports increases, the dollar value does not increase significantly.
Structural constraints

The low value-added nature of Pakistan’s exports is due to the limited focus by successive
governments on structural issues.

These include the lack of focus on developing human capital necessary for high value-added
production, poor linkages between high-tech defence industries and the private sector, a lack of
emphasis on ensuring industry-wide standardisation and the limited access to neighbouring markets.

The low value-added nature of Pakistan’s exports directly relates to the availability, or lack thereof,
of human capital. A recent survey conducted by Naqeebz Consulting finds that 78pc of employers
(respondents) are dissatisfied with the quality of fresh graduates. This is concerning as it limits firms’
ability to produce high value-added products.

Explore: The start-up revolution of Pakistan

Pakistan can benefit from the experience of advanced countries in this regard. For example, most
engineering degrees in the United Kingdom provide placement opportunities as part of their degree
programmes. An alternate route of vocational training and a government-sponsored apprenticeship
programme is designed to allow the apprentice to spend most of her time with an industrial partner.
By the time these students graduate, they are skilled and become an active part of the UK’s
workforce.

Industrial linkages between defence and the private sector are factors deserving policymakers’
attention as well. In a paper titled ‘The Intellectual Spoils of War?’ researchers at the University of
California (Berkeley), Harvard and London School of Economics and Political Science show that an
increase in defence-related research and development spending has positive spillover effects on
productivity.

The domestic industry in the UK also benefits from government funded defence projects. Centres
like the Forming Institute and The Welding Institute are linked to technology transfer organisations
such as the Institute of Materials, Minerals and Mining, known as IOM3. These organisations then
offer memberships to industry players at minimal cost and link them to relevant experts when
needed.

While Pakistan spends a significant proportion of its tax revenue on defence, the lack of industrial
linkages results in almost no spillover to the rest of the economy. Linking defence industrial
establishments like the Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission and Heavy Industries Taxila to industry
players and research institutions can potentially increase industrial productivity and, in the long run,
export competitiveness.

Also read: What does the future of regional trade in South Asia look like?

Standardisation, the third factor on our list, has emerged and taken importance of its own. A study
published by the German Institute for Standardization notes that “84pc of the companies surveyed
use European and International Standards as part of their export strategy, in other to conform to
foreign standards.” The study further notes that exporters also use standards as a marketing tool to
enter new markets.

In Pakistan, one key sector which suffers due to poor understanding of standards is IT. Pakistan
Software Houses Association’s data shows that IT exports crossed the billion-dollar benchmark in
FY18. Nonetheless, this is minuscule compared to India’s exports of $126bn.

Freelancers most often rely on self-learning and go through several iterations before meeting
required standards. Awareness campaigns by software houses, workshops by industry experts and
short courses through technical and vocational institutes can go a long way to eliminate this
bottleneck.

Finally, the most important constraint which Pakistan continues to face despite its geostrategic
location is of market access. It is common knowledge in international trade literature that scale of
production is critical for high-tech firms (or industries requiring large initial investments) to compete
in the international market.

While Pakistan does have a large population of its own, the consumer base for sophisticated
technologies is rather limited. Therefore, if Pakistan cannot guarantee potential investors market
access to neighbouring regions such as Central and South Asia, there is no reason to believe that
technology-intensive industries will find it worthwhile to establish their foothold in the country.

Sahiwal shootings: The rot goes as deep as the roots

The demand for change gets the loudest when something terrible happens, but all that changes is
seasons.

Rimmel MohydinUpdated Sep 13, 2019 05:41pm

With every police encounter, the system’s knees weaken and it may just buckle over from the
weight of injustice that has sadly come to characterise it.

For as long as I can remember, I have been told that Pakistan needs to change.
We need to change the government, we need to change the law, we need to change the politicians,
we need to change the economy, we need to change our policies, we need to change ourselves.

The demand for change gets the loudest when something terrible happens. Never again, we tell
ourselves. Things must change, we chant. Leaders faithfully echo the sentiment.

All that changes, however, is seasons.

On January 19, the Punjab Counter Terrorism Department (CTD) opened fire on a car carrying a
family, killing the couple, their teenage daughter and their neighbour.

It has been called a tragedy, an encounter, a shootout, a murder, a debacle — but one thing that the
Sahiwal killings were not was an aberration.

Extrajudicial executions have long been a feature of Pakistani law enforcement — killings which are
unlawfully and deliberately carried out by an order of government or with its complicity or
acquiescence.

If the system fails, law enforcement simply steps outside it.

Related: What the Sahiwal shooting tells us about police culture

The incentive to do so is strong because there are no rules or consequences in this grey area and the
CTD, Rao Anwar, the late Chaudhry Aslam, the Punjab police and other institutions all seem to have
built their collective house there.

The Human Rights Commission of Pakistan has recorded 60 police ‘encounters’ in the year preceding
January 21, 2018. This means at least one extrajudicial execution a week. These are only the ones we
know about. The real number is likely much higher.

They will find ways to justify it. That the criminal was “hardened” and deserved his or her fate. That
lack of evidence to convict someone should not stand in the way of punishing them — even if their
target is, as in the case of the Sahiwal killings, a child.
See more: Murders most foul

But as steadfast as their resolve might be to dispense their own brand of "justice," none of them
have been willing to stand by it in a court of law. There remains a pervasive culture of impunity for
the enforcers of the law that have the least respect for it.

Police investigate police to never punish the police. In the immediate aftermath of the shootout, the
CTD had the gall to announce that they had recovered a cache of weapons and explosives from a
group of “terrorists.”

This was a lie, and had it not been for a child telling the truth of what he witnessed, they probably
would have gotten away with it.

Perhaps the problem then, is that law enforcement agencies do not think they are doing anything
wrong. Nothing, except selective public outrage, seems to tell them otherwise.

No prison terms, no accountability — only temporary suspensions, a press conference and yet
another Judicial Investigation Team. And if it gets noisy enough, maybe a tweet from the prime
minister.

When it comes to changing the system that lets extrajudicial executions routinely take place, it is
difficult to know where to begin. The rot goes as deep as the roots.

That police officials take the law into their own hands shows how little they trust the hands that sign
the sentence. That judges cannot convict criminals because of lack of evidence demonstrates the
consequences of a resource-strapped and underfunded police force.

That defendants can be murdered without ever seeing even an arrest warrant, let alone the inside of
a courtroom is symptomatic of a system that is deeply broken.

Editorial: Fake police encounters

With every police encounter, the system’s knees weaken and it may just buckle over from the
weight of injustice that has sadly come to characterise it.
The murders of Khalil, Nabila and their daughter Areeba should light a fire under our need for
judicial and police reform.

Between bouquets for traumatised children and fake threatening phone calls to their lawyers, it
appears that no one knows where to begin with that either.

This would be a farce if the story wasn’t being built on the bodies of four innocent people, including
a child.

Now the victims’ remaining family members are being shuffled back and forth from their homes to
government offices. They must appear before this committee and that committee, they must receive
phone calls from this official and that official.

Also read: Punjab's 'encounters' with sectarianism

They must now cooperate with the very government that killed their own. A government that is
strongly motivated to make this go away. A government that holds its power dearer than their truth.

Khalil’s brother has now asked that their case be tried in a military court. He presumably does so out
of lack of faith in the civilian courts and in many ways, he cannot be blamed.

With more than 40,000 cases pending in the Supreme Court, lengthy appeals processes, a system
that favours the rich and punishes only the poor, there is much to be done to earn that trust.

Unfortunately, the military courts have essentially been designed to ensure no fair trial standards
are followed. And if this case is heard in one, then we are guaranteed that the outcome will serve no
criminal justice purpose.

The truth of what happened in Sahiwal must come forward. And as we learned from a 13-year-old
boy’s moral clarity, it can often be the only thing you hear. Even during a hail of bullets, even during
bellowing calls for change.

Who are the real victims of India-Pakistan tensions? It's Kashmiris

This week’s events have pushed Kashmiris back to the bunkers.

Anam ZakariaUpdated Mar 01, 2019 04:56pm

A Kashmiri woman grieves for her son, a civilan killed in a gun battle. — AP

Two days ago, a civilian from Khuiratta in Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK) uploaded a video of his
daughter detailing how she heard a gola (mortar) while at school, and had to rush home.

The little girl, no more than seven years old, was already familiar with the terminology. At her age,
she’s likely to have little understanding of why Kashmir, from where she hails, is one of the most
volatile conflict zones in the world. Yet, for her the firing of golas is part of her lived experiences.

I wonder if she knows that shelling is not meant to be an ordinary occurrence, let alone near schools.
But for the people living by the Line of Control (LoC), shelling often forms their most primary
memory. Many of them have grown up caught in the midst of cross-LoC firing, knowing to rush to
the bunkers — if fortunate enough to have access to them — at the slightest sound.

For those who live in locations where the 2003 ceasefire between India and Pakistan had extended
itself to, the resumption of firing in recent years is new and utterly frightening, especially for children
who grew up in relatively peaceful times.

For instance, in Neelum Valley, firing had largely halted in the aftermath of the ceasefire and when it
returned in 2016 — when India-Pakistan relations soured in the aftermath of the Uri attacks — the
children who were unfamiliar with the explosive sounds of mortars were left terrified, covering their
ears and yelling for it to stop.

However, even before 2016, certain areas had been left orphaned by the ceasefire; the respite was
offered to selective regions, with many sectors continuing to face regular violations.

Related: How women in Kashmir's Neelum Valley ensured ceasefire at the LoC

A few months before the Uri attacks, I visited the Nakyal sector in AJK. There, I learnt that
approximately 15 people are killed in shelling every year. One teenager I conversed with told me
that she had heard firing ever since she was a young child. If it ever happened while she was in
school, the headmaster would tell the children to huddle together and hide until it stopped. At
home, her father would instruct them to rush inside.

Her childhood has been shaped by the uncertainty, the constant state of emergency, the loud
explosions. Months before I visited her, she had lost her mother to the firing. When we spoke, she
had dropped out of school to help raise her younger siblings.
Such stories are only too common on the LoC. Lives are lost, livelihood damaged, homes devastated,
generations psychologically, physically and financially impaired.

During the 1990s, when cross-LoC firing was at its peak, 28 children were once killed when a mortar
hit a school in Neelum Valley. Others lost their legs or arms. Thereafter, most schools became
abandoned, haunted buildings, neither the teachers nor the children willing to risk their lives. As a
result, almost an entire generation of Kashmiris — in areas close to the LoC — was raised without
basic literacy.

When I visited these villages years later, I heard harrowing tales of women and children being stuck
in pitch dark bunkers, without any air, without any washroom for hours (and at times, days on end).
Women narrated chilling stories of having to cut through their own flesh to feed their children blood
to avoid dehydration, or having to pick up chopped up body parts after a mortar ripped through
their child’s body. Roads would be shut, ration supply halted, schools closed, communication
snapped.

Read next: Courage lies in the hearts of Kashmiri women who dream of freedom

This week’s events have pushed Kashmiris back to the bunkers. Four people have already died, 11
have been wounded, dozens have had to leave their homes, schools have been shut, internet has
been blocked, phone lines are only working in certain areas, electricity is cut off at night. Everybody
wonders who will survive this time.

Yet outside of Kashmir, few think about how the India-Pakistan conflict manifests itself on the LoC.
The fact is that it is the Kashmiris — that both states claim to represent — who are the real
casualties of conflict; sidelined, their deaths are presented as dry statistics, more often than not to
beef up nationalistic narratives.

Those who were earlier calling for war from the comforts of their homes, mostly in India, have
perhaps forgotten that there is already an ongoing war, with thousands of Kashmiris sandwiched in
between hostile Indian and Pakistani posts.

Those celebrating the de-escalation of conflict in Pakistan have perhaps forgotten that the conflict
remains alive, the LoC still active. It has been active for a long time, it is likely to remain active.
Darkness, the cold damp bunkers, the fear of being struck by mortars is likely to be the reality for
Kashmiris for a while to come.

When Indian jets first entered Pakistani airspace, for hours the conversation revolved around
whether they had attacked Balakot in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa or Balakote in AJK. When it seemed that
it was the latter, many expressed a sense of relief that at least the Indians had not targeted ‘Pakistan
proper’ or really impinged on our sovereignty.

Whether or not Kashmiris died, what the damage meant for them — had the target been Balakote
rather than Balakot — received little attention. The killing of civilians on the LoC that night, the
resulting displacement and the heightened state of panic they find themselves in is also
overshadowed. Apart from a few reports, little is said about their conditions.

In-depth: The pursuit of Kashmir

The fact that Prime Minister Imran Khan is advocating for dialogue and has promised to release the
captured Indian pilot are all promising steps which must be applauded. One can only hope that
tensions will de-escalate.

However, as Pakistanis and Indians hopefully return to normalcy, airports are opened and high alerts
are no longer needed, we must remember that thousands of Kashmiris on the LoC remain
vulnerable, wondering when the next shelling will be.

Yesterday morning, I reached out to a friend in Khuiratta to enquire about the conditions there the
night before. "Hope all is quiet on the LoC?" I asked. "For the time being," he responded. "It is never
quiet for people on the LoC." The uncertainty, the volatility, the cycles of violence are the only norm.

Peace in the region is contingent on peace in Kashmir of which AJK is an integral part. Kashmiris
must not be remembered and forgotten at will. A sustained and inclusive dialogue, safety for those
living by the LoC and the political will from both sides to reach a lasting solution is the only way
forward.

Is corruption really the source of our economic crisis?

The idea that corruption is the root cause of Pakistan's problems needs to be rooted

in better evidence.

Uzair YounusUpdated Aug 02, 2019 12:21pm

A s economic stress inflicts pain on Pakistani households and the

accountability process led by the National Accountability Bureau continues, it
has become an oft-repeated view that corruption is to blame for the country’s
financial woes.

This line has been largely pushed by the ruling Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf, with
Prime Minister Imran Khan using his pulpit to make the point both at home and
abroad.

But is corruption really the source of Pakistan’s economic crisis? And does
corruption stunt development and growth in other countries?

A global problem
Bureaucratic and political corruption is pervasive around the world and impacts
both developed and developing economies.

Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI), which ranks

countries based on “perceived levels of public sector corruption according to
experts and businesspeople”, is one of the most widely used source of information
when it comes to comparing corruption across countries.

The CPI gives each country a score of 0 to 100, where "0 is highly corrupt and 100
is very clean." According to the 2018 index, more than two-thirds of the 180
countries assessed had a score of below 50, and the average score was 43. This
highlights the fact that corruption is a global problem.

With a score of 88 (a drop of three points over three years), Denmark ranked first,
followed closely by New Zealand on 87 (a drop of fours points since 2015). The
United States, the world’s largest economy, came in at 22 (score of 71) while
China, the world’s second-largest economy, was ranked 87 (score of 39). India was
ranked 78 (score of 41), Pakistan 117 (score of 33) and Bangladesh 149 (score of
26).

The data does not seem to suggest a direct link between rates of economic growth
and corruption. India is ranked higher than China, but has struggled to keep up
with the Chinese growth rate; Pakistan is tied with Vietnam and is ahead of
Bangladesh, but its economy has fallen behind both.

A divided view
Academics have spent a lot of time analysing data to better understand the linkages
between corruption and economic growth. They have defined corruption as the use
of public office for private gain, and years of research has been inconclusive in
developing a consensus on whether corruption hinders or promotes development.

Daron Acemoglu is one of the world's leading economists and is part of the school
of thought which argues that corruption may not have a negative impact on growth,
that corruption enables growth as it allows entrepreneurs to bypass inefficient and
cumbersome government regulations.
In his 1998 paper 'Property Rights, Corruption, and The Allocation of Talent: A
General Equilibrium Approach', Acemoglu, along with co-author Thierry Verdier,
focused on corruption’s impact on property rights enforcement, as weak property
rights worsen economic performance. The analysis led him to conclude that “less
developed economies may prefer lower levels of property right enforcement and
may be more tolerant towards corruption.”

Paulo Mauro, assistant director and division chief in the fiscal affairs department of
the International Monetary Fund, is an economist who belongs to the school of
thought which argues that corruption has a negative effect on economic growth.

In his 2004 report 'The Persistence of Corruption and Slow Economic Growth',

Mauro wrote that "studies have shown that there is a close association between
corruption and slow growth" and that "countries' relative degree of corruption is
highly persistent over the years." In countries where corruption is pervasive,
"individuals do not have incentives to fight it even if everybody would be better off
without it."

In Mauro’s analysis, this relative stickiness of corruption means that "gradual

reforms are less likely to work than more ambitious, comprehensive reforms" that
seek to reduce the level of corruption in a society.

Related: Are insecure property rights holding back Pakistan’s economy?

A 2007 paper 'Influence of Corruption on Economic Growth Rate and Foreign

Investments' looked at the relationship between corruption and investment in
European economies. Researchers found that "less corrupt countries on average
receive more foreign investments per capita than more corrupt countries" from the
US.

While their analysis, which focused on 39 European Union countries, found an

insignificant relationship between the growth rate of gross domestic product per
capita and corruption, narrowing the countries down to 21 European countries that
are classified as transition countries led to a different result: over a five-year
period, countries that improved their CPI score by one unit managed to increase
their GDP per capita by almost 2.4 per cent. This is an important finding, given
that the negative impact of corruption is most pervasive in developing economies
with weak institutions.

Research on Asia, however, paints another picture. A 2016 paper 'Is Corruption

Bad for Economic Growth? Evidence from Asia-Pacific Countries' looked at 13
Asian economies including India, China, Vietnam and Singapore.

The author concluded that "for most Asia-Pacific countries, policy makers’ use of
anti-corruption policies to promote economic development may not be effective."
The analysis was striking: in South Korea, corruption "caused an increase in
economic growth" while in China, data showed that economic growth had a
"significantly positive effect on corruption."

It should be noted that both these countries are case studies in how they rapidly
modernised and reduced levels of poverty through high rates of economic growth.

What does this mean for Pakistan?

As Acemoglu and Verdier argue, without understanding "why the state exists, it is
difficult to assess why corruption arises, what its consequences are, and whether
and how it should be prevented."

Pakistan is a state with weak institutions, where political instability is the rule and
bureaucratic and political corruption is pervasive. This leaves businesses and
entrepreneurs with no option but to resort to unlawful practices in order to push
things along and circumvent ineffective regulations and countless political,
bureaucratic and judicial hurdles.

Corruption therefore ends up being the grease that makes the wheels of the
economy turn; without it, there is a potential risk that the machine may come to a
halt.

Read next: Why Pakistan will go to the IMF again, and again and again

This is not to say that corruption should be tolerated or that governments should
abandon the pursuit of reforms against it. However, policy measures that seek to
improve economic performance and reduce corruption must be informed by
research that highlights why corruption is pervasive, what its transmission
mechanisms are and the type of systemic reforms that may succeed in reducing the
incentive for people to grease the system.

These reforms must focus on strengthening institutions that create checks and
balances, promote democratic accountability and enable a free press. After all, it
was a free press that got hold of the Panama Papers and brought to light how elites
around the world had hidden their wealth — a lot of it ill-gotten — in offshore
accounts.

In Pakistan, the perspective that corruption is to blame for the country's economic
woes needs to be rooted in robust empirical evidence. Otherwise, it's just a mantra
and an uninformed crusade against it might not yield positive results.

The hike in drug prices may be painful, but it’s necessary

Price controls are misplaced because they miss out on the more important goal of access to
medicines.
Kabeer DawaniUpdated May 02, 2019 09:22am

There is uproar in the media after the recent increases in medicine prices. Many opposition
politicians have made public statements condemning the government for this move and social media
is rife with disapproval.

Further, as part of the cabinet reshuffle on April 18, 2019, the federal health minister was removed,
with the media claiming that this was due to the price hikes.

Given that medicines are a necessity and inflation overall is high, some of the anger is
understandable. But were the price increases legitimate?

For the past six months, I have been engaged in a research project on strategies to address
corruption in Pakistan's pharmaceutical sector, in partnership with the SOAS Anti-Corruption
Evidence research consortium.

While our work is ongoing, I will borrow from it to provide historical context to this round of price
increases, point out the negative consequences of controlling prices and make a case for
decontrolling prices for non-essential medicines.

Medicine pricing over the years

Pakistan's pharmaceutical sector is unique in that the universe of products is subject to price
controls, which are by and large enforced. But this control is inconsistent and prone to rent seeking.

There was a virtual price freeze from 2001 to 2013, despite rising production costs. Then in October
2013, the Nawaz Sharif government increased the prices, but very quickly reversed its decision. The
manufacturers went to court and managed to get a stay on the original increase. Following that, a
pricing policy was introduced for the first time in 2015.

Due to inconsistent policy application and pricing disparities from the past, litigation on medicine
prices in various courts piled up, including on the 2015 policy. Eventually, the Supreme Court took all
the cases together through a suo motu notice. On its orders and with due consultation, another
pricing policy was introduced in 2018.

Read next: Nashwa’s death is tragic. What can be done to prevent such incidents?

Over the past few years, production costs — mainly for raw materials, 95 per cent of which are
imported — have increased drastically due to two factors. First, the devaluation of the rupee since
2017. Second, China, Pakistan's biggest supplier, has changed its environmental policy, resulting in
an increase of chemical prices.

It is in this context that medicine prices were increased recently. In December 2018, the Drug
Regulatory Authority of Pakistan (DRAP), through three Statutory Regulatory Orders, allowed a price
increase in 600-plus medicines because of ‘hardship cases’ (but also reduced prices for 395 other
medicines).

Then, acting on a Supreme Court order, and in lieu of the currency devaluation, DRAP permitted
another increase of 9pc for essential medicines and 15pc for non-essential medicines.

While there is no doubt that some manufacturers may have increased their prices beyond that, in
general the price hike was merited and, in fact, long overdue.

Costs of over-regulation

The conventional argument in favour of controlling prices is a populist one: governments put a
ceiling on prices so as to enable low-income populations to have access to affordable medicines.

The Pakistan Pharmaceutical Manufacturers Association also justified their recent announcement to
reduce prices by 10-15pc of 464 essential and non-essential medicines ‘voluntarily’ along similar
lines.

There is indeed public pressure to keep prices in check. But does this also have an affect on
economic growth and public health? Our research shows that there are significant negative
consequences to the strict price controls practiced in Pakistan.

Businesses, by definition, operate for profit, and pharmaceutical manufacturers are no different.
With a freeze in prices and no consistent increases, profit margins inevitably squeeze over time
because of inflation. The result is that producing a medicine is no longer profitable, leading to
shortages of many essential drugs.

For example, in 2015 there were multiple reports of shortages of tuberculosis medicines. When
there are shortages, some people hoard supplies and sell on the black market for up to 50 times the
original price, or the same drug is imported at a higher cost.
The consequence of either an absence of a key medicine or much higher monetary costs is thus
borne by the consumer. This hurts the poorest the most, who can only afford to get medicines from
public health facilities.

Also read: Why are Pakistani doctors assisting in the 'missing women' phenomena ?

One study estimated that, of a basket of essential medicines, only 15pc are available in the public
sector. This is not only due to public procurement issues, since in the private sector, availability, at
31pc, was twice as better even though much below what it should be.

When a medicine is no longer profitable to produce, many manufacturers register a new drug. At
registration, they can get a price with high margins so that even if there is no increase over the
short-to-medium term, they can still make money.

Thus, many first-generation drugs have stopped being made and instead manufacturers have gone
on to produce second- and third-generation medicines, which are more expensive. These new drugs
can have prices that are 10 times higher than the original first-generation ones. Again, the burden
falls on the consumer.

In addition to costs to the general population, there is also a negative consequence to the economy
and to public health because many multinational companies (MNCs) have exited the Pakistani
market.

Since there is no research and development of drugs in Pakistan, all new products are brought into
the health system through MNCs who develop new medicines elsewhere. MNCs also have higher
standards than local firms and invest heavily in developing human capital through training.

This has a positive spillover in the local industry, as pharmacists trained in these firms then go on to
improve the quality of medicines being produced locally. Thus, the exit of MNCs, in addition to the
economic costs of disinvestment, also leads to negative consequences on public health through
other means.

Policy implications

There appears to be a surprisingly effective political consensus on keeping medicine prices

suppressed.
Even prices that were raised through proper mechanism, as defined in the pricing policy, have been
criticised. However, given the issues I have described above, this consensus is misplaced because it
misses out on the more important goal of access to medicines. Focusing only on affordability has a
negative consequence: unavailability of key medicines.

There is an urgent need to decontrol prices for non-essential medicines. With more than 750
manufacturers, there is sufficient competition in the industry to ensure that no one increases prices
astronomically. In fact, one manufacturer told me that before the devaluation hit them, they used to
sell 70pc of their medicines below the notified maximum retail price.

Related: How to respond to Pakistan's alarming suicide rates?

The state can, however, rationally control prices of essential drugs. This will ensure that medicines
which are prioritised will not have prices spiraling out of control.

More importantly, I would argue that there needs to be a shift in the current political consensus.
Instead of keeping prices in check, access to affordable medicines should be made through the
existing government healthcare system. Provincial governments already do this at scale and this can
be improved and expanded.

Finally, in the medium term there needs to be a concerted state effort to incentivise pharmaceutical
raw material production within Pakistan. Not only will this help reduce the trade deficit, it will also
reduce the exposure of prices to fluctuations in the currency market, create jobs and spur economic
growth.

What's it like to suffer from climate change in Pakistan?

Climate Stories Pakistan travelled across the country to collect people's stories.

Amber AjaniUpdated 3 days ago

Pakistan is the eight-most vulnerable country to climate change. What does life in such conditions
look like? The Climate Stories Pakistan team travelled the length and breath of the country to collect
stories of people's climate suffering as well as of their resilience. These accounts showcase the
human dimension of climate change and will hopefully inspire empathy and collective action in face
of increasing catastrophes.

***

"The fruits don’t taste the same anymore"

Sheri Bano is the only woman organic farmer we met in Hunza. Originally from Altit, she uses only
organic methods to grow vegetables, which are used in her own restaurant in Karimabad, Hunza.

“Our hotel [Hidden Paradise] became famous for organic and traditional food,” she shared. She used
to run the restaurant with her husband and when he passed away, her son took over the family
business. The interesting thing about her restaurant is that it is 36 years old and is run entirely by her
family.

“We did not keep staff from outside, everyone from the family would work there. When the kids
were younger they'd do the work of waitstaff, and my husband and I would be in the kitchen. One of
my sons who is differently-abled would help wash the dishes and clean,” shared Sheri Bano. Also,
every vegetable is produced by them at home.

Some of the vegetables that she commonly grows now include carrots, cauliflower, peas, Chinese
spinach and bell peppers. She plants new crops for every season, she tells us. “In July we have
Chinese cabbage, spring onions and potatoes. In August we can grow methi, mustard seeds,
horseradish and carrots.”

Sheri Bano uses animal waste as fertiliser instead of chemical fertilisers. She says that usually in
colder regions, such as Hunza, there are no insects that attack the vegetables. But in case there are
any, she burns wood or uses natural oils to kill them rather than buying pesticides from the markets.

However, the recent changes in weather patterns are affecting her food production. The increase in
temperatures has led to the rotting of fruits and pest outbreaks. “The apricots get insects,” shared
Sheri Bano. “It happens because of the sudden heat. And the same thing is happening with the
apples. They fall before their time. The fruits don’t taste the same anymore and they don't ripen the
same way. The taste that they used to have is not there anymore because of the weather.”

She has noticed weather patterns changing drastically in the past 4-5 years. “There used to be so
much snow here that we would slip on it. It was so icy. Now the weather has changed, it's become
very hot.” Not only has the temperature increased but it has also turned unpredictable as Sheri Bano
noticed, “In the swimming pool outside, this year after 30 years there's been ice. This year it's been
colder.”

Because of sudden changes in the weather, there have been unpredictable rainfalls. “When it's in
the process of ripening, and it rains, the fruit is all wasted. We are not getting the kind of production
we got before.”

***
“Where are these mangroves?"

Born in Keti Bandar in the 1940s, Siddiq Roonjho still lives in the fishing village 70 years later, unlike
others who he has seen migrate in hopes of a better life. “Here,” he says, “there's no livelihood, and
no sweet water to drink.”

However, it was not always this way. In the past, the four major creeks in the area served as a source
of freshwater, and agriculture flourished here: “We would grow so much rice that there used to be
the scent of it around. The rice is finished now since the water is no longer sweet.”

Around 90% of the population here is engaged in fishing activities. Roonjho, a fisherman by trade,
fondly remembers the time when the creeks were abundant with fish. In his youth, fishermen would
not go out to the rough seas in June, July and August. Instead, they would lay their nets in the creek:
“We'd go every day and each fisherman would get 200-300 (pieces) of palla.” In the past few years,
“when the [fresh] water dried up, so did the palla.”

The flora of the area is also dwindling. Mangrove forests were once aplenty, each a marker of a
particular area due to its dense canopy: “We would differentiate each place with the kind of
vegetation that was there.” Today, Roonjho asks: “Where are these mangroves now? They're not
there.”

This is because of two main reasons: seawater intrusion and deforestation. Deforestation took place
on a large scale here, as mangrove trees were the only source of heat and light for these people:
“There was no gas or anything at that time. We used to use wood as fuel.” The sea has come closer
too in the past few years: “The sea was around 70km away. Now, it's only 20-25 km away,” he says.

The state of the environment holds great meaning for Roonjho and those like him, as they depend
on natural markers to forecast weather, shirking newer technology: “Previously, we would go
according to our own estimate. We would figure it out according to how the sea looked.” They
cannot rely on these estimates now as the weather has become unpredictable.

According to Roonjho, fishing practices have also changed quite a lot which has decreased the
population of marine species: “We used a silk thread to catch fish in the past. Now, the nets are
made from plastic. It's very dangerous as it catches everything, even the baby fish.” The size of the
fishnet holes has also decreased in size over the years which has led to indiscriminate overfishing.

***

"A person is left mentally distraught after these floods"

Sonia Kanwal is from the beautiful Reshun valley in Chitral. She was 22 years old when the flood hit
her area in 2015. “They say that every 25-30 years, there is a flash flood like this. But in my life, it
was the first time I witnessed a flood of this scale.” Talking about climate change, she said, “the
actual reason for its occurrence was the glaciers bursting because of increased heat. We hear these
from our elders.”

Sonia still remembers the suddenness of the disaster and the intensity of the noise: “It was Ramazan
and I was preparing for the isha prayer when the flood came. I heard the noise from far and warned
everyone that a flood was coming and they should run for their lives. The flood brings large boulders
with the water from between the big rocks in the mountains, which causes the noise to be very
scary. The flood was upon us in a matter of seconds. A flood comes that fast.”

Sonia recounts her thoughts at the time of the incident: “When the flood comes, you think now that
the flood has come, I am gone. My life is meaningless. I will be swept away. You just keep on running
and feel as if the water is right upon you. That is how you feel.”

The flood cost Sonia and her family most of what they had: “Our houses were completely swept
away. Our crops, our lands all were destroyed. Whatever little land was left, it was divided amongst
my father and brothers. Thankfully, no lives were lost as we all climbed up the mountain for safety.”

Her family later rebuilt their house on the opposite side of the river as did most others in the area.
She talks about how the most difficult part about starting life anew was building a house in these
harsh conditions. “There was a time when my father’s cousin was plastering the walls and helping
with the construction of our new house. But we could not find any labourers in the area to help
bring the cement to the house. So, I had to carry the cement bricks myself. It was such a difficult
time for me.”

With the physical, tangible burdens that were left in the aftermath of the disaster, there were also
the mental struggles that Sonia faced. The post-traumatic stress from having braved such an incident
left her reeling: “When I sat on the dastarkhwan, sometimes I would hear voices of people
screaming about approaching floods and I would scream and run to my room. At times I would also
wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. A person is left mentally distraught after these
floods.”

Is the PTI budget sustainable for an economy like

Pakistan's?
We could be looking at another bailout a few years down the road.
PrismUpdated Aug 21, 2019 04:21pm
The Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf (PTI) government presented its first full-year
budget for the 2019-2020 fiscal year on Tuesday, with a heavy emphasis on
increasing revenue through taxes in line with the latest agreement with the
International Monetary Fund (IMF).

Prism spoke to experts to make sense of the budget's implications for taxpayers,

trade deficits, growth and the government itself.

"Erosion of purchasing power"

—Maha Rehman, Center for Economic Research Pakistan

Following the IMF bailout and given our historical budgeting and policy design
patterns, a budget of the nature presented was more or less expected.

Taxes on commodities of everyday use have been increased, exemptions on the

import of LNG have been removed, tax exemptions on the current exporting
industries have been done away with and tax exemptions for the salaried class have
been reversed.

The most immediate and visible consequence of this package is the erosion of the
purchasing power of the common man. On a more macro level, with the removal
of exemptions for LNG and given our current exporting industries, the cost of
production will increase, making our goods less competitive in the global market.
What you need to know: Indirect taxes in Budget 19-20

Contracting demand and dampened exports are likely to lull us back in the negative
feedback loop that follows every major IMF bailout. And this is what Pakistan’s
economy needs to structurally avoid if we are to disentangle it from international
dependencies.

To meet our revenue targets, we not only need to restructure the tax regime, but
couple this with structural reforms that provide the right incentives for higher tax
collection by increasing operational capacity.

Additionally, the long-term macro goals demand that structural changes boost
export capacity and encourage investment in new export industries. It is the macro,
long-term perspective that needs to be kept front and centre.

"A very ambitious revenue goal"

—Shahrukh Wani, Blavatnik School of Government, University of Oxford

The government wants to try every possible trick in its book to raise more revenue.
This is what this budget is about.

There is no way around this; the government needs to raise more taxes as part of its
agreement with the IMF, and the proposed budget proposes to do precisely that.

The budget rests on a very high revenue goal when economic growth has slowed
down dramatically. At the risk of speculation, this might become even worse: if the
government is unable to achieve this revenue, it might, I fear, review spending
plans and cut down development spending — reducing growth further.

The coming year is not going to be easy, not only for the government to achieve
these targets (for example, the surplus they expect provinces to achieve), but also
for the people, who will have to make do with a slowing economy, more taxes (a
bulk of which are going to be used to pay off debt) and rising inflation.

Tax amnesty: Is PTI packaging gimmicks as economic reforms?

There are three adverse consequences of this budget which we need to look at over
the coming year:
The impact of increased taxation on people's spending capacity — for example, a
person making Rs50,000 a month will have to pay income tax, along with exposure
to the broader impact of inflation due to the devaluation of the rupee and increase
in sales taxes.

The dramatic decrease in higher education spending (via the PSDP) is going to
have a significant impact on the quality of universities and research. This might be
the single worst choice made by the government in this budget.

The budget is also going to allow non-tax filers to purchase property worth Rs5
million or more. This is going to push people to move capital towards the non-
tradable sector — an incredibly bad incentive for people to move capital away
from productive sectors.

Beyond the budget and stabilisation measures it tries to bring with it, what is more
important is that the government is willing to bring in structural reforms targeted at
increasing economic growth and exports.

We missed all economic targets (except one) last year; that reflects something
deeper at fault in our economy. Changing that requires thinking about how to
improve the performance of the government, incentivising firms to grow and
giving the people skills; the government needs a broader framework to do this.

That is going to be the real test of the government, and if they ignore these
structural reforms, we will need one of these 'tough' budgets again soon.

"IMF will hold the government’s feet to the fire"

—Uzair Younus, South Asia Practice at the Albright Stonebridge Group

The Achilles' heel of this budget is the revenue target, which is set at Rs5,555
billion. I do not see a plausible way where the government meets this goal. This
means that the IMF will push the government to unveil additional tax measures
through mini-budgets.

Missing revenue targets will also mean increased reliance on borrowing to meet
fiscal gaps, leading to increased inflationary and interest rate pressures on the
economy.

The first quarter of the new fiscal year will set the tone. If the government is
unable to meet its own revenue targets, then we can expect some tough
conversations between the PTI and the IMF.

Budget 2019-20: IMF hand clearly visible in budget proposals

The next 12-24 months are not about reviving economic growth. They are going to
be focused on stabilising the economy and getting the fiscal and current account
deficits under control, while shoring up reserves.

Expanding the tax base will be the real test of the PTI government. They’ve set an
ambitious target for themselves and appointed a private sector tax expert to achieve
these goals.

In the short term, the only way to raise revenues is to squeeze the existing tax base.
In the medium term, the Federal Board of Revenue chairman Shabbar Zaidi’s tax
reforms may bear fruit and the economic prospects of this government will depend
on his success or failure.

The latest budget is guided by the agreement made with the IMF, and the IMF will
hold the government’s feet to the fire the moment agreed-upon targets are missed.
Every review cycle will create pressure on the government to hold its end of the
bargain.

"Expect higher inflation and a tighter job market"

—Hina Shaikh, International Growth Center

Pakistan’s economy can only be fixed if we address its most fundamental structural
flaws. This requires an understanding of what ails the economy — a disparity
between public sector spending and income, and an underdeveloped export base.

On one end, we need sustainable and reliable flow of income — hence an increase
in revenue generation. We need tax reforms to focus on progressive taxation and
reduce reliance on indirect taxation and thus protect the interests of the low-income
strata.

On the other, we need to rationalise expenditures, reduce losses of state-owned

enterprises and streamline government machinery. We need a strong export base
and a strengthened business environment with a strong private sector engagement.

The budget focuses on some aspects of the critical interventions needed to boost
the economy, but there are glaring contradictions as well.

Attending to IMF conditions, a one-time sacrifice of the defence budget’s

increment, more income tax slabs and higher sales taxes are temporary measures to
provide breathing space to help avert a current fiscal crisis.

The government is still committing to a high fiscal deficit at 7.1 per cent compared
to 7.2pc of GDP in the last year, owing primarily due to the large size of the debt
repayments. In addition, the government has announced highly challenging
revenue targets in a low-growth period, relying mostly on taxes to be collected
from the masses.

This is despite a recent World Bank report confirming that Pakistan is capturing
only half of its revenue potential and needs to raise revenues by enhancing tax
compliance — not levying new taxes or increasing rates.

In the short run, these budget commitments may become unsustainable,

necessitating interim finance bills to provide quick fixes.

Also read: How can we protect contract and informal workers in Pakistan?

Any successful IMF programme requires government commitment to policies

(some painful) that are outlined in the programme.

Associated with a new loan will be extensive pressure to reduce aggregate demand
of which the largest burden will be on the fiscal side. A limited fiscal space can
hamper Prime Minister Imran Khan’s efforts to substantially enhance public
spending and also hit economic growth.

What we can expect before the next budget, in the face of an economic slowdown,
is higher inflation and a tighter job market as economic activity takes a hit.
Some of this inflation could be offset if income taxes were lowered, but that is not
the case as Pakistan sets its sights to grow tax revenues at the fastest pace in recent
years. With less than 1pc of 208 million people filing returns, it may be difficult to
meet the ambitious revenue targets.

While a slow-down in the demand for imports will help to prevent the dollar drain
and reduce the trade gap, and higher taxes along with spending cuts can help
reduce the budget deficit, the government may save enough to spend on
development projects.

But this process will take time. It may take two years before economic growth can
bounce back and the government is able to fix the larger macroeconomic problems.
If not, then we could be looking at another bailout.
Saqib Nisar: Between protecting fundamental rights and unwarranted interventions

Nobody benefits if the SC takes over functions of other institutions.

Zaki RahmanUpdated Jan 31, 2019 01:27pm

In virtually all constitutional democracies, judicial review to protect fundamental rights is confined to
scrutiny of state actions.

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With the retirement of the 25th Chief Justice of Pakistan, much is being written about his tenure and
legacy. This is inevitable given the deep impact that the judicial activism of Saqib Nisar has had on
popular consciousness.

Long gone (some would say unfortunately) are the days when the identity of the chief justice was
known only to lawyers and a few others having direct dealings with the Supreme Court. The
trajectory of politicisation of the Supreme Court which began, in some ways, with Iftikhar Chaudhry
reached its zenith under the leadership of Saqib Nisar.

The rationale repeatedly given by the recently retired chief justice for his willingness to march
headlong into the political thicket was that, under the Constitution, the Supreme Court is the
ultimate guardian of the fundamental rights of citizens.

Recap: Judicial restraint was Saqib Nisar’s hallmark — then the dam broke

If the executive branch of the government was too incompetent or short sighted or corrupt to make
and implement policies for the uplift of the people, the Supreme Court would fill the vacuum.
Similarly, if the legislature was indifferent or too caught up in other matters to effectively legislate to
protect the fundamental rights of citizens, the Supreme Court would be more than happy to step in.

Of course, these postulates remain unstated; in fact they were repeatedly denied with the assertion
that the Supreme Court was strictly operating within its constitutional role and there was no
question of usurpation of the role of any other institution.

In reality, the Supreme Court wielded its formidable powers of judicial review with a view to redress
wrongs which it perceived as stemming from the negligence and ineptitude of the other branches of
the government.

There can be no doubt that the power of judicial review is one of the most crucial components of a
functioning democracy. The superior judiciary has been mandated by our Constitution to ensure that
the fundamental rights guaranteed to citizens under the Constitution are not violated by the
executive or the legislature.

Accordingly, the Supreme Court is empowered to strike down any law which contravenes
fundamental rights such as the right to life, right to freedom of business, right to be treated in
accordance with law, right not to be unlawfully deprived of property and others.

Similarly, any action taken by the executive branch of government can be declared unlawful and void
by the Supreme Court if it is violative of constitutionally guaranteed fundamental rights of citizens.

Thus, in our constitutional scheme, the superior judiciary is meant to act as a bulwark against
encroachments by the executive or legislature upon basic rights of citizens and to serve as a salutary
check upon governmental arbitrariness.

Editorial: JIT or institutional reform?

However, in the Saqib Nisar court, judicial review was taken to a different level altogether. In
virtually all constitutional democracies, judicial review to protect fundamental rights is confined to
scrutiny of state actions.

Judicial review does not extend to private parties. To put it another way, fundamental rights of
citizens are not enforced directly against other citizens.
The reason for this is that the liberty, autonomy and privacy of individuals is respected in liberal
democracies and, as long as a citizen is not committing a crime or breaking a law, the citizen is left
alone and is not made responsible for ensuring the delivery of fundamental rights to other citizens.

It is the state that is required under the Constitution to ensure that fundamental rights are provided
to all citizens and this burden is, for obvious reasons, not put upon the shoulders of more privileged
citizens.

This entrenched and nearly universally accepted principle, that judicial review of private actions is
not available, was put under serious challenge by the Nisar-led court. Three examples spring
immediately to mind.

First, the action taken by the Supreme Court against private hospitals for allegedly charging
exorbitant amounts from patients; second, the order requiring private schools to reduce fees; and
third, the order for imposition of tax on water extraction by bottled water companies.

In the first two cases, transactions between private citizens were scrutinised and action taken and
orders passed to ensure that fundamental rights of citizens (right to education and health) were
directly enforced against other private citizens (owners of private hospitals and private schools).

See more: Fixing Pakistan's water woes beyond regulating the price of bottled water

In none of the three cases were the private entities violating any laws. There is no law which
requires private medical hospitals or schools to reduce fees.

It is therefore difficult to see how the insistence of the Supreme Court on reduction of fees can be
viewed as anything other than direct legislation threatening the sanctity of the separation of powers
doctrine.

In the third case, there was no law which imposed any tax on water extraction and a tax was
introduced by the Supreme Court itself which was surely a decision to be taken by the government
and implemented through appropriate legislation.

To be sure, the Supreme Court has the power to direct the legislature to pass appropriate laws in
certain cases in order to protect fundamental rights.
In the famous Darshan Masih case, the Supreme Court directed the legislature to pass an
appropriate law on the abolition of bonded labour which paved the way for the promulgation of The
Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, 1992.

The Indian Supreme Court in the 1997 Vishaka case directed the legislature to pass laws on sexual
harassment.

Comment: Supreme Court & democracy

It is not necessary or desirable for the superior judiciary to turn a blind eye to all issues; particularly
egregious violations of fundamental rights can legitimately be taken notice of and appropriate
directions passed to the legislature to consider the matter.

What is troubling about recent jurisprudence is obviously not the good intentions of the Supreme
Court to protect fundamental rights but the manner in which it has sought to determine and
formulate policy regarding matters such as education, provision of health facilities and taxation — all
issues which fall squarely within the domain of the executive and legislature.

With the greatest of respect, it is not the province of the Supreme Court to fix prices for provision of
private medical or educational facilities or to decide whether a tax should be imposed or not (let
alone the quantum of tax).

This brings us to an oft-asked question: if such decisions of the Supreme Court provide some
measure of relief to people, what does it matter whether such niceties as the doctrine of separation
of powers are brushed aside in the process?

This argument holds that the people need their problems to be urgently addressed and it really does
not matter which organ of the state does so. If the government or the legislature fails to do so, let it
be done by the Supreme Court.

Since the recent decisions of the Supreme Court are so popular in large sections of society, this is an
important question to consider.

Op-ed: First among equals

Firstly, the framing of policies by the Supreme Court weakens democratic traditions and perpetuates
structural weaknesses in the executive branch of the government. For better or for worse, the
people have elected the government to steer the state and it is both the right and the duty of the
government to govern.

Repeated excessive judicial interference gives the government neither the space nor the time to
implement its vision. There are no shortcuts that can be taken to achieve a healthily functioning
democracy.

It is axiomatic that the democratic project requires institutional strengthening. While the temptation
may be great to provide short-term relief by taking over policy making, in the long run this does no
favours to anyone. The duly elected representatives of the people must be given the opportunity to
do their job.

Not allowing this to happen ensures that the political system remains immature.

It also needs to be borne in mind that our peculiar constitutional history is full of repeated
interruptions to the democratic order, most particularly in the form of autocratic military
governments; surely the democratic sapling needs to be nurtured rather carefully in this
environment.

Secondly, it is obvious that no court possesses either the expertise or the experience to frame policy
on matters such as education, health, taxation and so on.

The exercise of policymaking in such areas by the judiciary can have far reaching and disastrous
effects. For example, if a significant number of private schools are forced to close down as a result of
the order of the Supreme Court slashing fees by 20 per cent, this would be highly detrimental to the
education sector given the existing state and quality of government schools.

Explore: How to give a dam?

Another example of policy making by the Supreme Court is the dam building initiative and
consequent fundraising.

While the resourcefulness of the Supreme Court in sensitising the society to this crucial issue is
laudable, and while access to clean drinking water is surely a fundamental right, it should be noted
that several experts have questioned the wisdom of undertaking mega dam projects and the
feasibility of such enterprises.
Thirdly, unwarranted interventions into the private sphere can cause real damage to the economy.
Investors shy away from any outlay of capital in circumstances where capital is perceived not to be
secure.

Fourthly, arbitrary exercise of suo motu powers leads to uncertainty in the law. A developed legal
system depends to a great degree upon clearly formulated case law and precedents which are
applied by the courts in a consistent manner.

When certain decisions are taken for arguably populist reasons, adherence to legal rules is often
sacrificed. There is a perception among sections of lawyers that it has become very difficult to advise
clients on what the law is, given the uncertainty injected into the system by what is perceived to be
inconsistent exercise of judicial power.

Fifthly, while protecting fundamental rights of certain classes of citizens (for example, parents of
private school students and patients of private hospitals), the fundamental rights of other citizens
(private school and hospital owners in this case) should not be violated.

Private service providers are guaranteed the right to undertake their businesses under the
Constitution (Article 18). To be sure, such right is not unfettered and can be subjected to reasonable
regulation by the government through appropriate legislation, but that is a different matter from
judicially-ordered price reductions on a seemingly arbitrary basis. Regulation of the private sector is
welcome, strangulation is not.

In-depth: For judging too much

Furthermore, in case policy making and legislation is itself taken over by the judiciary, those affected
will be left with no remedy. If the legislature formulates a law which is contrary to fundamental
rights or the executive behaves in an arbitrary or unlawful manner, persons affected can petition the
superior courts for redressal of the wrong. This basic right is taken away if the formulation of policy
is undertaken by the Supreme Court itself.

Moreover, making the private sector responsible for the failure of the state to provide essential
services may not be the wisest or fairest approach.

It should also be kept in mind that issues pertaining to bottled water, private hospitals and private
schools affect only a small fraction of the population. Interventions in these areas do not solve the
problems of over 90pc of our population which has been betrayed by successive governments and
continues to be deprived of fundamental rights such as access to clean drinking water, education
and health.
The Supreme Court has, in recent times, played a commendable role in raising awareness about
certain critical issues confronting the nation. As the custodian of the fundamental rights guaranteed
to citizens under the Constitution, it can and should continue to scrutinise actions and laws of the
executive and legislature to ensure that the same do not violate fundamental rights.

The people of Pakistan depend upon the great institution of the Supreme Court to protect it from
government arbitrariness. However, the people are neither benefited nor served if the Supreme
Court itself takes over functions of other institutions and an element of arbitrariness is injected into
the proceedings of the Supreme Court which is the ultimate upholder of law in the country.

Ultimately, the matter cannot be stated better than the following observation of Saqib Nisar (before
he assumed office of Chief Justice of Pakistan) in the famous military courts case:

"It is not the function of this Court to weaken democratic institutions and traditions by declaring that
since the elected representatives of the people are not, in its opinion, discharging their functions
honestly, hence those functions ... will be taken over by the judiciary itself. Let it not be forgotten
that the judiciary in Pakistan is neither elected by the people nor is it answerable or accountable to
the people. It is answerable only to itself under Article 209 of the Constitution. No judge of a
superior court in Pakistan has ever been prosecuted in a criminal court. Indeed, if any other
institution claimed the right to be only answerable to itself there would be a public outcry. In other
countries of the world, including India, the general rule is that the superior judiciary is answerable to
the elected representatives of the people-- in India and England to Parliament and in the United
States to Congress. The judiciary in Pakistan thus holds a uniquely privileged position constitutionally
and it is therefore incumbent on it to exercise its great powers with restraint and wisdom. The basic
postulate, on which all institutions rest, is, the greater the power, the greater the responsibility.”

‘The Analytical Angle: What’s in the price of a pen?

Millions of rupees, if you’re the government
It's imperative for policies to be based on evidence. This is as true of procuring

pens as for any other policy.

Michael Carlos Best | Adnan Qadir KhanPublished a day ago

T he words 'public procurement' do not raise strong feelings in the minds

of most readers. But they should.
The way government spends taxpayers’ money on everything from pens to
highways has great bearing on how efficiently it functions. Wasteful procurement
means that the government’s budget is able to provide less of the services that
really matter to taxpayers: education, health, public transport and so on.

On the other hand, a lean government that keeps unnecessary expenses at a

minimum can serve its citizens better and maintain their trust.

Public procurement is a substantial part of the national income and government

budget; estimates suggest that it is about 19.8 per cent of the gross domestic
product in Pakistan.

Our research has revealed a simple, low-cost policy that can make government
leaner.

Many policies have been tried out around the world, but they often contradict each
other.

For example, international organisations (the Organisation for Economic Co-

operation and Development and World Bank have often espoused this approach,
for example) tend to advocate a policy of writing strict rules to govern procurement
procedures. Such policies entail strong monitoring and oversight institutions to
ensure compliance with the rules. While this may seem safer, it has a downside:
procurement officers have to deal with red tape, filling out extensive forms and
providing complete documentation.

Other governments and businesses have pushed in the other direction, to give
greater power to procurement officers, trusting them to use their discretion to seek
out value for money. This approach calls for lighter monitoring during
procurement, and strict enforcement of rules only in cases of wrongdoing. This
philosophy underlay the reforms to the public procurement system in the United
States under Bill Clinton in 1993 that made an appeal for government to make an
“investment in smart buying”. It also underlies Netflix’s five-word policy for
expensing: “Act in Netflix’s best interest”.

This second type of policy is often accompanied by pay-for-performance schemes

that reward procurement officers when they perform well: spend more efficiently
and receive a bonus.

We had the chance to test these two policies against each other, and our results can
guide policy.

Over the past several years, in a research project with Oriana Bandiera (London
School of Economics) and Andrea Prat (Columbia University), we have engaged
with the Government of Punjab to deploy a methodology for measuring value for
money of generic goods and developed a web portal named Punjab Online
Procurement System (POPS). The project was conducted jointly with the Public
Procurement Regulatory Authority and Punjab Information Technology Board.

First of all, there was a big difference in prices paid by different public bodies for
exactly the same good – as shown in the figures. Each point in the figures is a
purchase. The horizontal position of the point represents the price the public body
actually paid for the item. We can see that the prices paid for the same item vary
dramatically. Using the detailed data in POPS, the vertical axis represents what the
item is actually worth (according to a methodology we developed, adjusting for
differences in the precise attributes of the item and the location in which it is
purchased).

We highlight in orange items that are worth roughly the same amount. We find that
high performers pay as little as Rs3.50 for pens worth Rs25, while poor performers
pay up to Rs115. Prices paid for toner worth Rs3,500 ranges from Rs1,550 to
Rs11,000. High performers pay Rs60 for registers worth Rs150, while poor
performers pay Rs700: public bodies are paying as little as Rs0.70 and as much as
Rs1.80 for paper worth Rs1.25 per sheet.

These numbers raise the question of why offices are paying such different amounts
for such simple, off-the-shelf items. These items may seem trivial as each purchase
is relatively small. However, keep in mind that they are bought across the entire
government of Pakistan. In the offices we worked with in the health, higher
education, agriculture and communication and works departments, such costs
accounted for over half of non-salary expenditures.

They also pose a challenge to the government: Is it possible to find ways to get
poor performers to stop overpaying and behave more like the high performers?
What does a pen cost?

What does paper cost?

What does a register cost?

What does a toner cost?

We worked with the government to design and experimentally test two policy
initiatives to improve performance of frontline procurement agents.

Our first initiative reduced the red tape faced by procurement officers when
making purchases, simplifying or bypassing much of the pre-audit monitoring of
their procurement of generic goods. We wondered if this increased autonomy
would allow frontline procurement agents to improve value for money by striving
to lower prices, or if it would make them more wasteful since they knew they
wouldn’t get caught.

Our second initiative introduced performance pay for procurement officers,

rewarding them financially for achieving greater value for money.

After running the experiment for two years, we learned that both giving
procurement officers autonomy and performance pay can improve the value for
money achieved in public procurement in Pakistan.

The figure below shows how much these initiatives were able to save in the around
600 small public offices we worked with, and how they compare to the cost of 150
additional hospital beds or operating 10 schools. The autonomy initiative saved the
government Rs13 million, or around 8pc of the spending by the offices we worked
with, and was virtually costless to the government. The pay for performance
initiative saved Rs4 million, and cost Rs2.65 million, and so provided a solid 45pc
return on investment for the government. Offices where both initiatives were
implemented together displayed a 26pc rate of return (RoR).

The results of these initiatives are encouraging, suggesting that real savings are
possible without cutting back on the items being purchased to provide services
with, and guiding us to how to achieve them. This was a small sample, the
potential for savings across government is substantial.
Perhaps more importantly, we learned more about when each type of policy is
likely to be successful. Monitoring compliance with rules is costly. It takes time for
civil servants to document that they are following the rules, it takes time and effort
for monitors to verify these documents.

The costs of this red tape have to be balanced against the benefits of using rules to
improve value for money and the quality of services delivered to citizens. When
monitoring is very costly, either because monitors are themselves
corrupt/inefficient, or because the time cost and inefficiency associated with red
tape are too onerous, monitoring is ineffective. In this situation, performance
incentives for procurement officers don’t work, they are too tangled in red tape to
do anything to improve performance. By contrast, giving more power and
discretion to bureaucrats improves performance. In the longer term, jobs that offer
the autonomy to effect positive change may attract individuals with stronger
motivation to work in the public interest into the civil service, amplifying the
benefits.

The bottom line is that we need to check our instinct to react to the inefficiency
and corruption we often see in government procurement by imposing additional
monitoring on the bureaucrats. In many places, the elaborate system of pre-audit
monitoring they face is probably doing more harm than good, and should be
replaced with greater autonomy and rigorous post-audit of purchases.

More broadly, creating a civil service that empowers bureaucrats who want to
make a difference and serve their country, while reigning in the excesses of bad
apples who exploit the system will serve Pakistan better than a rule-bound
behemoth. For Pakistan to develop as a nation, it is imperative for the design of
that civil service and all public policies to be based on evidence of what works,
what doesn’t, when and why. This is as true of procuring pens and paper as for any
other policy.

Pakistan is uniquely placed to take advantage of religious

tourism. What is stopping us?
Significant improvements in security mean that the sector is now poised to pick up.

Hina Shaikh | Nazish AfrazUpdated Oct 17, 2019 05:11pm

T ourism has grown faster than the global economy for the eighth

consecutive year. Today, more than a billion people travel internationally,
with around half these journeys destined for developing countries. Pakistan is
uniquely placed to take advantage of this trend.

Travellers can experience the historical heritage of one of the oldest civilisations in
the world, worship at the rich collection of Sufi shrines, Hindu temples, Sikh
gurdawaras and Buddhist monasteries, scale some of the highest mountains in the
world, or simply experience natural beauty ranging from blossoming trees against
a backdrop of snow-clad peaks in Gilgit-Baltistan to pristine beaches in Gwadar.

However, despite this wealth of tourist attractions, Pakistan’s tourism sector trails
far behind that of India, Turkey, Sri Lanka and the region in general.

The direct contribution of the travel and tourism sector to Pakistan’s gross
domestic product is just 2.8 per cent compared to the regional average of 3.5pc.
In terms of receipts from foreign tourists across South Asia ($33.82 billion in
2016), Pakistan scrapes a share of less than 1pc of this important source of foreign
exchange compared to India's share of 69pc, Sri Lanka’s 10pc and Maldives’ 7pc.

Moreover, in sharp contrast to the dramatic improvements in the share of travel and
tourism to India’s economy, in Pakistan, this share has remained fairly stagnant.

What is the economic potential for tourism in Pakistan? What is holding us back
from reaching the potential and what can be done about it?

Boosting the economy

What if Pakistan’s international tourism sector contributed to the economy at
similar rates as the rest of South Asia? The gains to GDP would be $1.5 billion.

What if Pakistan surpasses South Asia and international tourism contributed at

world average rates? The gains to GDP would be $3.5 billion — equivalent to the
value of Pakistan’s largest current export item, cotton.

Simple back-of-the-envelope calculations show a substantial economic impact of

existing domestic tourism as well.

For instance, looking at just domestic tourism to heritage and religious sites in
Punjab, the Tourism Development Corporation of Pakistan (TDCP) identifies 480
such sites across the province. Of these, 106 are of historical importance, 120
religious and a further 26 of both religious and historical importance.

Assuming a modest average spend of Rs200 per trip per person and using TDCP
data on the number of visits to each site, revenue generation through these
domestic visits is currently estimated at Rs54 billion per year — two-thirds of what
international tourists spend in Pakistan each year.

With the right policies in place, Punjab alone can contribute a three- to four-fold
increase in the revenue generated by domestic tourism.

Related: Three locations Punjab should put on its tourism map

Pakistan is an especially important site for both Sikh and Buddhist tourists. At one
point, Punjab was the centre of the only Sikh empire in history. Nankana Sahib, the
birthplace of Baba Guru Nanak, is one of the holiest sites for Sikhs, with the
potential to attract as many pilgrims as the Golden Temple in Amritsar.
Yet, barely 6,000 Indian Sikhs visit Pakistan, in contrast to over 50 million that
visit the Golden Temple — just 120 kilometres away from Nankana Sahab — each
year (this includes multiple visits from the same visitors).

The number of pilgrims coming to Pakistan each year and where they stay is
controlled and managed for political and security reasons by the state, albeit with
fewer restrictions on diaspora Sikhs as compared to Indian Sikhs.

According to survey data, a whopping 83pc of the eight million diaspora Sikhs
living outside India have shown interest in visiting Pakistan. In addition, 79pc of
the 20 million Indian Sikhs expressed an interest in visiting Pakistan. In sharp
contrast, just 10pc had actually come to the country.

Nankana Sahib
Improvements in visa restrictions, security and infrastructure can lead to an
increase in tourist numbers and a change in the profile of existing Sikh tourists,
which is currently heavily biased towards low-end visitors (those who won’t be
spending too much).

For instance, allowing one-day visas for day trips to Nankana Sahib, a mere two-
hour drive from Wagah, can boost visits from Indian pilgrims.

Conservative estimates of the economic impact of boosting Sikh tourism, that keep
the current expenditure profiles and mix of pilgrims as given and assume that a
small fraction of the Sikhs that expressed an interest in visiting Pakistan do
actually visit, show an approximately 85-fold increase in Sikh tourists’ expenditure
on goods and services in Pakistan. The current spend of Rs208 million can reach
almost Rs18 billion.

This is assuming 44,000 annual visitors (a mix of diaspora and national Sikhs, with
some high-spending and others low-spending tourists) with most staying for two
weeks, some single-day visits and spending between Rs4,000 to Rs20,000 per day
per person.

Read next: An odyssey in the Thal desert

The gains to the economy, however, are not restricted to these direct expenditures
on hotels and transport. They create ripple effects through the economy via indirect
and induced expenditures.

Hotels purchase more goods and services from their suppliers and expand their
facilities (indirect expenditures). When the region becomes more active as a tourist
hub, increased employment and economic activity spillover to higher spending on
all goods and services in the area (induced effects).

The World Travel and Tourism Council estimates that every rupee of direct
expenditure is expected to lead to an additional spend of Rs1.46. Every direct job
in the travel and tourism sector also implies an additional 1.55 jobs in related
sectors. Incorporating these multiplier effects, the total contribution of Sikh tourists
is projected to reach approximately Rs44 billion every year, generating over
82,000 jobs.

Takht-i-Bahi.— Fazal Khaliq

Similarly, Buddhist tourism has an estimated market of 500 million Buddhists
across the world. Pakistan’s Gandhara region comprising Mardan, Taxila and Swat
holds a special place for them. Korean Buddhists in particular trace their religious
origin to the area that is now Pakistan, where Korean monk Hyecho travelled 1,300
years ago.
Just recently, a 48-feet-long Buddha was also unearthed in Haripur, making it the
world’s oldest sleeping Buddha statue. Takht-i-Bahi in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and
the sites in northern Punjab alone have the potential to attract a major proportion of
the 50 million Mahayana Buddhists in Korea, China and Japan.

A 2016 Gallup survey of the Buddhist population across a selected pool of

countries identified 58 million “interested visitors” of which 5pc (2.9 million) were
“likely to visit” Pakistan. Poor security situation, lack of marketing and tourist
facilities and the absence of a functional Buddha stupa are currently preventing this
potential from being realised.

Facilitating these tourists and reaching just 1pc realisation for Pakistan would
mean 29,000 visitors a year, with a revenue inflow of $62.9 million in the near
term. Accounting for the direct and indirect effects, Buddhist tourism can
contribute over Rs16 billion to GDP and provide employment to 30,772 people.

What is holding us back?

Where can we begin in order to realise this potential? The most important
impediment identified in surveys in the past has been Pakistan’s security situation.
Significant improvements in security mean that the sector is now poised to pick up.

In recognition of this, the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf-led government has shown a

keen interest in reviving this sector. They have established a national task force on
tourism, followed by approval of a National Tourism Coordination Board. They
have also announced a new visa policy, plan to provide online visa facility for 175
nations and have relaxed the system of No Objection Certificate for certain
regions.

Tourism remains a key area of cooperation under the China-Pakistan Economic

Corridor, realising the enormous potential of Chinese tourists and impact on
international tourism of overall improvements in infrastructure.

There are, however, some additional factors that remain unaddressed. A critical
one is an appropriate institutional and regulatory structure that allows for
conservation and regulation, provision of facilities, effective management and
data-driven planning to understand and attract tourists in a manner that is
environmentally sustainable.

Existing institutional and regulatory arrangements for the tourism sector remain
weak, complex and in need of serious reform. Multiple agencies and departments
are involved in the sector, without any specialised experience in managing heritage
and religious sites and without conformity in practicing international or Unesco
standards. Special management structures like the Walled City Authority do exist,
yet there is a need for a consistent approach that applies to all sites of significance.
Katas Raj. —Nefer Sehgal
Federal-provincial coordination poses further challenges. Federal jurisdiction over
some heritage sites is still maintained by the Evacuee Trust Property Board
(ETBP) even though it has no legal authority post-18th Amendment.

The impact of these issues is exemplified in the experience of Katas Raj, a

complex of seven ancient Hindu temples. The ETBP exercises complete authority
over the development and restoration of Katas Raj without apparent oversight of
the provincial archaeology department or any in-house expertise in conservation
and restoration.

This institutional flaw has led to renovations using plaster and paint, which have
permanently destroyed any remaining vestiges of antiquity. The floors and steps
throughout the complex have been re-laid using white marble that looks
completely anachronistic in that environment. Most importantly, nearby cement
factories have contaminated and dried up the centuries-old pool of water
considered holy by Hindus.

Answering the call of the wild: My adventure trip to Chutok in Balochistan

While suo moto action was taken after media reports last year, the experience
highlights the gaps in the regulatory environment that have allowed substantial and
potentially irreversible damage to historical sites.

Other issues that arise from poor institutional arrangements include poor tourism
infrastructure, low involvement of the private sector, inadequate marketing and low
enforcement of quality standards.
The Punjab Tourism for Economic Growth report develops five strategic thrust
areas to address these issues and unlock tourism’s potential: tourism infrastructure,
safety and security, branding, developing talent for tourism services and policies
for sustainable tourism that involve and benefit local communities, as well as
regulation that preserves heritage sites.

With these arrangements in place, Pakistan can look forward to revamping its
tourism industry to take its rightful place in the country's development.
A few ways to combat climate change in Pakistan

It is time to shun passivity and take an active part in climate advocacy.

Amber AjaniUpdated Oct 19, 2019 10:52am

Students at the climate march in Karachi. — Photo by Kamran Nafees

Dealing with climate change news can be exhausting, especially when each subsequent news story
seems to be worse than the last.

We may choose to block out the apocalyptic news but let’s not forget that scientists have given us a
tight deadline of around 11 years to quite literally save the planet, and ourselves.

Pakistan has been continuously ranked among the most affected countries by climate change. Our
people in different parts of the country are already getting adversely affected by climate impacts,
which include flash floods due to glacial melt, increased heatwaves, water scarcity, rising sea levels,
food shortages and displacement. The worst part is that these impacts are only going to get worse.

In such a scenario, we may want to help but may not know where to start. Here, I suggest some tips
for the government as well as for individuals, based on my travels across Pakistan in search of
climate stories.

What the government should do

Undertake urgent reforestation and afforestation programmes on mountain slopes. Northern areas
have suffered severe deforestation due to a lack of access to electricity and natural gas. The Billion-
tree Tsunami campaign is a good start but needs to be scaled up in the long-term. The communities
and the general public also need to be engaged in mass plantation drives across the country.

Build dams in Thar to store rainwater. Let me also stress here how important local consultation is.
During our travels, we came across a dam in Nagarparkar being used as a cricket pitch because the
government did not consult people and disregarded their knowledge of where to best build it.
Sometimes, the solution is as simple as asking the people. They live there and have a pretty good
idea of what solutions would work in their context.
Devise and implement a waste management strategy for mountainous areas. Since mountain
communities have nowhere to dispose of their waste, they end up either throwing it in the rivers,
burning the waste in open air (which contributes to black carbon deposition on glaciers and
accelerates their melting) or burying it underground (which resurfaces in the event of a natural
disaster and adds to existing risks). Proper waste disposal systems and awareness (especially for
tourists) can help mitigate greenhouse gas emissions, air pollution and disaster risk.

Ban diesel vehicles in the mountains. An increasing number of tourists visiting the scenic mountains
in the north opt for using diesel (the most inefficient fuel) in their four-wheelers. The particulate
matter emitted by the incomplete burning of fuels at such high altitudes directly contributes to the
rapid melting of glaciers, thereby accelerating climate change and worsening the health of people.

Switch to renewable energy sources. We have massive potential for solar energy in Thar and
hydropower in the north which can provide clean, cost-effective and uninterrupted energy.

Acknowledge that Pakistan faces diverse climate challenges in different geographical and cultural
contexts. For example, the climate impacts in Chitral will be vastly different from the impacts faced
by Sindh. Therefore, there is a need to ideate solutions keeping in mind the context and diversity.

Deploy a proactive approach rather than a reactionary one. We usually react to a disaster once it has
happened, instead of preparing ourselves beforehand. The proactive approach of preparedness and
foresightedness will save much time, money and lives.

Make climate change a priority in the development and political agenda. Climate change will
influence every area of human and economic development and needs to be taken into account at
every level.

These efforts are urgently required, but it is also important to recognise that the onus for change is
not completely on the government. We, as aware citizens, need to demand action on these issues
and work closely with governmental and non-governmental institutions to ensure that these
measures get implemented. It is time to shun passivity and take an active part in climate advocacy.

What can you do?

We, each in our own capacity and community, have the power to take climate action. Here are some
starting ideas:
Just talk about climate change. We don’t change what we never discuss. You can form local climate
discussion groups to start the conversation, reach out, help and support vulnerable people and take
collective action.

We need activism, not pessimism. It takes courage to focus on a positive and action-oriented
approach. Go work for or volunteer with a local organisation working on climate change issues.

Please reconsider piling your plates with excess food the next time you’re at a wedding or party.
Currently, 40% of the food in Pakistan goes to waste while 43% of our population is considered food
insecure. What most people don’t realise is that food waste is also a big contributor to climate
change. Methane (a powerful greenhouse gas) is emitted from rotting food in landfills. You can also
help by donating excess food to a charity or initiatives like the Robinhood Army and ‘Rizq that help
redistribute it to the needy.

Reiterating a cliché here but it’s important: save energy. In a country like ours, where electricity
supply is intermittent and already a luxury, we must be extra mindful and turn off lights and
appliances when not in use. This can be as simple as unplugging your charger when your
phone/laptop is fully charged. Plugged devices still consume phantom power and add to your bill
and the greenhouse gas emissions.

Write about and share your ideas and work. Every climate story (whether of suffering or success)
matters. It gives other people permission to share theirs.

The list of recommendations shared here is in no way complete; it only serves as a reminder that
climate action can be initiated at different scales. Taking action can also help with eco-anxiety (a new
type of psychological condition where you feel extremely worried about the worsening state of our
planet and climate).

Feeling anxious about the environmental crisis may not be a bad thing in small doses, if it motivates
you to avoid the catastrophic future. Remember that a series of small steps implemented by many
leads to a large impact and change. At this point, we need everyone doing their part to deal with a
problem as complex and imminent as climate change.

Governance through ordinance

Bypassing parliament in this manner does not bode well for the democratic project.

Zaki RahmanPublished Oct 10, 2019 04:21pm

Prime Minister Imran Khan addressing the parliament. – White Star

Earlier this year, the Buzdar-led government in Punjab dissolved all elected local governments in the
province, midway through the five-year term assured to them under the relevant law.
The dissolution was effected through the Punjab Government Local Act, 2019 pursuant to which
around 58,000 sacked councillors have been replaced by a handful of bureaucrats.

Ostensibly, the new legislation is aimed at bringing about far-reaching changes in local government;
however, given that local governments in Punjab were dominated by the Pakistan Muslim League
Nawaz-affiliated councillors, the primary reason for dissolution is not hard to identify. Fresh
elections have been promised within a year, but it is noteworthy that the new legislation does not
contain any deadline in this regard.

The radical measure can be seen as a grave setback to institution-building and grassroots democracy
in the province. Unsurprisingly, the premature dissolution has been challenged before the Lahore
High Court (LHC) by certain de-seated councillors. The petitions, which are currently under
adjudication, raise several important questions regarding the constitutional position of local
governments and the powers of provincial governments to terminate elected councils.

Related: PTI's one year in Punjab

In order to appreciate the issues involved, it is necessary to begin with Article 140-A of the
Constitution, which was first introduced in 2001 and provides as follows: “Each Province shall, by
law, establish a local government system and devolve political, administrative and financial
responsibility and authority to the elected representatives of the local governments.”

The challenge of the petitioners before the LHC revolves around Article 140-A and may be
summarised as follows. Firstly, Article 140-A, for the first time, made it mandatory for the provinces
to establish local government systems. Previously, the Constitution provided that the state will
“encourage” local government institutions, but stopped short of placing a constitutional obligation
to ensure setting up of such institutions.

Moreover, the words used in Article 140-A are “local government” instead of “local bodies” which
was the term used in prior legislation. According to the petitioners, this demonstrates the intent of
the framers of the Constitution to make Pakistan a three-tier federation with local governments
being on a par with federal and provincial governments.

In other words, local governments are autonomous and not a mere subset of provincial
governments. Consequently, just as the parliament does not have the power to remove or dissolve
provincial governments under the Constitution, provincial governments do not have the power to
remove elected local governments.
Secondly, the word used in Article 140-A is “devolve” instead of “delegate” or “confer”. While
delegated or conferred authority can be taken away, the petitioners contend that “devolution”
implies an irreversible transfer of power. To buttress this argument, reference is made to other
instances where the word “devolution” is used in the Constitution to refer to irreversible transfer of
rights. Therefore, any attempt to snatch away devolved power is ultra vires the Constitution and
should be struck down by the LHC.

It is likely that the response of the Punjab government will centre around the fact that there is no
express prohibition contained in the Constitution regarding dissolution of local governments. The
Punjab government may also argue that it is, in fact, following the mandate and requirement of
Article 140-A by introducing a more suitable and better form of local government through new
legislation.

Read next: Has Punjab just taken a step towards unlocking the potential of its cities?

Whatever the ultimate fate of the petitions (and the matter is likely to land up in the Supreme Court
eventually), this development illustrates an underlying malaise, namely a lack of due respect on the
part of the government for participatory decision-making and elected institutions.

Another recent manifestation of this attitude, this time by the federal government led by the same
party, is the flurry of legislation by ordinances, prompting the Supreme Court in a recent case to
observe that parliament should be shut down if laws are to be promulgated through ordinances.

It is true that the Constitution allows laws to be promulgated through ordinances; however, in terms
of Article 89 of the Constitution, this can only be done when the National Assembly is not in session
and the president is satisfied that circumstances exist that render it necessary to take immediate
action.

In other words, extraordinary circumstances must exist to justify legislation by ordinances, which
must then be placed before parliament in the manner contemplated by Article 89.

According to the Pakistan Institute of Legislative Development and Transparency, the legislation
done through presidential ordinances between August 2018 and August 2019 was equal in quantity
to the legislation done by parliament during the same period. This shows that legislation by
ordinance is business as usual for the government instead of being a measure of last resort in rare
cases.
It appears, and so much was stated by the prime minister himself in December last year, that due to
the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf not commanding a majority in the Senate, the government has been
introducing legislation through ordinances.

Bypassing parliament in this manner does not bode well for the democratic project and is
tantamount to usurpation of parliamentary power. To strengthen parliament, the government
should engage with the opposition and ensure that legislation is passed after due debate and
consideration, including debate in the Senate which is the representative of the federation.

Pakistan currently faces a multitude of external and internal threats ranging from national security
to the instability of the economy. In such circumstances, the politics of consensus, built through
participatory decision-making and institutional strengthening, is the order of the day.

‘Death penalty doesn't stop child abuse. What's it for then?

The call to murder is the ultimate distraction. It is the most cynical act of manipulation.

Saroop IjazPublished Oct 09, 2019 04:35pm

The bodies of three young children who were raped and killed in Kasur were discovered less than
one year after the execution of Imran Ali for the rape and murder of young Zainab.

Imran Ali, despite calls for a public hanging, was executed inside the walls of Kot Lakhpat jail, Lahore.
Yet, his execution was public in the sense of it being inescapable in the national conversation, as a
response to an unspeakable assault on common decency and moral fabric of the society. The cries
for revenge, public hanging and the execution itself did not, however, stop the perpetrator of the
next round of rape and killings.

Before Imran Ali, there was Javed Iqbal, the serial killer who confessed to the murder of 100 young
boys. The judge, while sentencing him to the gallows in March 2000, wrote “you will be strangled to
death in front of the parents whose children you killed. Your body will then be cut into 100 pieces
and put in acid, the same way you killed the children." Javed Iqbal later died in an apparent suicide
while in prison.

The point in the dominant discourse for Imran Ali and Javed Iqbal was not about protecting our
children from the next Imran Ali or Javed Iqbal, but about looking tough as a government and a
society in the face of an elementary, unconscionable failure.

The death penalty is always about just that: demonstrating our willingness and capacity to inflict
murder. The message is not directed to the future murderers and rapists (it demonstrably doesn’t
work on them), but to the public at large.
Related: No, death penalty is not a solution to child sexual abuse

The relationship between an authoritarian state and the death was eloquently highlighted by Robert
Badinter, French Minister of Justice under Francois Mitterrand in his September 1981 speech to the
French parliament. “It is anti-justice…it is passion and fear prevailing over humanity.”

More importantly, “in countries of freedom, abolition is almost the rule; in dictatorships, capital
punishment is everywhere in use. This division of the world doesn’t result from just a coincidence. It
shows a correlation. The true political signification of capital punishment is that it results from the
idea that State has the right to take advantage of the citizen, till the possibility to suppress the
citizen’s life.”

Following the revolution in Iran, the Ziaul Haq regime began disseminating the news of executions
being carried out under Ayatollah Khomeini. Archives of Pakistani newspapers following the
overthrow of the Raza Shah’s regime in February 1979 have the death sentences being handed down
as headline news and Khomeini doing “nashta” of “dozens” (of people).

It seemed slightly odd; yet, it was deliberately aimed at creating acceptance for state-sponsored
violence and setting up the stage of the biggest execution/murder of Pakistan’s history, the
execution of Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto on April 5, 1979.

Also read: 'Mr President, grant mercy to my daughter who was tortured into a false murder
confession'

In 1983, the murderer of Pappu, a young boy from Lahore, was publicly executed and the body of
the killer was left hanging for an entire day as a spectacle. The rape and murder of children did not
end in the country or even the city; however, the point had been made yet again by the Zia
dictatorship that it took perverse pleasure in making a spectacle of violence. Floggings of activists
and journalists become significantly more palatable when there are bodies hanging from lamp posts.

The deterrence argument for the death penalty has been widely discredited and most governments,
including Pakistan, make the deterrence argument feebly and almost unwillingly, since that is not
the purpose of the death penalty.

Arthur Koestler in his seminal case against the death penalty in England wrote about the time when
pickpockets were publicly executed, and other pickpockets would take advantage of the crowds
gathered to witness the executions to exercise their talents. In 1886, out of 167 men at the Bristol
prison sentenced to public execution, 164 had witnessed at least one public execution.

The call to murder is the ultimate distraction, the most powerful rallying cry for the mob. In a society
walking wounded, it is the most cynical act of manipulation. The victims, like most victims of mob
attacks, are marginalised or the poor.

Read next: Pedophilia, masculinity and the media

Protecting our children requires doing the hard work of reforming the criminal justice system to
make it more responsive, tackling structural and societal barriers and creating a more open society.
However, hanging a Pappu or Imran Ali is much more immediate, tangible, easier and dishonest.

The news then becomes about Imran Ali, revenge and how justice has been served, rather than the
fact that Zainab was abducted from Kasur where over 700 cases of child abuse have been recorded
since 2015. It will for a blood-fueled moment obscure the fact that, on average, seven new cases of
child sexual abuse are reported daily in Pakistan.

The argument applies to all cases of death penalty including rape, child abuse, terrorism and the
everyday murder. In putting people to death, the government neither attempts deterrence nor
enacts justice; it simply kills because it can.

‘Pakistan's economy is expected to stabilise. Is growth next?

The government's focus must shift towards productivity-improving reforms.

Ahmed Jamal PirzadaUpdated Sep 28, 2019 09:15am

By now almost everyone acknowledges that the consumption-driven growth model that Pakistan has
come to rely on to achieve high growth rates is unsustainable. Most commentators also agree that
Pakistan must shift towards exports as the key driver of growth.

This narrative has given significant room to the present Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf government to
implement necessary stabilisation measures aimed at containing consumption while, at the same
time, providing incentives to export industries.

However, these and similar policy proposals by most commentators (including me) seem to have
given rise to a fallacy that implementing stabilisation policies alone to address macroeconomic
imbalances will somehow give rise to high growth path that does not lead to the International
Monetary Fund. This is incorrect.
Stabilisation policies — which include fiscal and monetary policies — remain what they are: they
stabilise the economy around its underlying productivity growth rate. Another way to view it is that,
every time the real gross domestic product grows by more than the underlying productivity growth
rate, macroeconomic imbalances start to emerge, requiring policymakers to respond with
stabilisation policies.

Related: So, what comes after the IMF?

Appreciating this alone can help policymakers reorient their focus away from macroeconomic
stabilisation as the ultimate policy objective towards improving the productivity of the economy. The
need for this shift cannot be overemphasised. As Paul Krugman — a Noble Laureate economist —
puts it, “productivity isn’t everything, but in the long run it is almost everything.”

Appreciating the importance of improving productivity will help break through another related
fallacy often pointed out by economists: that the government has its hands tied with reference to
implementing growth-friendly policies when under an IMF programme.

A cursory look at data presents a depressing outlook demanding immediate policy response. Every
time the growth rate exceeds 4 per cent for few years, macroeconomic imbalances start emerging.
For example, between fiscal years 2014 and 2018, the real GDP grew at more than 4pc. However,
the current account worsened from -1.49pc of the GDP to -6.14pc.

The growth episode during 2000s also presents a similar picture. While the economy grew at more
than 5pc between FY04 and FY08, the current account deficit worsened from -0.8pc to -9.2pc of the
GDP. Both these episodes culminated in large fiscal deficits primarily due to rising debt servicing
costs and governments’ desire to delay undertaking necessary adjustments.

This leads to an obvious conclusion that any attempt to raise GDP growth rate beyond 4-5pc must
come from increasing the productivity of the economy rather than from implementing expansionary
fiscal and monetary policies.

Read next: Three things Asad Umar failed at that cost him his job

The importance of shifting our focus towards improving productivity can be further appreciated by
acknowledging the critical role it plays in a country’s export performance. In a 2002 paper published
in the Journal of International Economics, researchers use data on Spanish manufacturing firms to
show that it is essentially the more productive firms that are more likely to enter the export market.
In a 2005 paper published in the Review of World Economics, researchers at the Bocconi University
and the Centre for European Economic Research found similar results for German manufacturing
firms. A 2008 paper published in the American Economic Review shows the same for Taiwanese
electronics producers.

The precise factors determining the productivity of an economy have been a subject of much debate
that continues to remain unresolved. But what can be said with relative certainty is that productivity
growth rate depends on how effectively a country’s economic resources can come together for
production purposes.

To be sure, policymakers must not restrict their attention to the quality of resources alone. Instead,
and as emphasised by Robert Solow (another Nobel Laureate economist), social norms and
institutions can also be important enabling or limiting factors in a country’s pursuit towards
improving its productivity.

Also read: Are insecure property rights holding back Pakistan’s economy?

Considering this, any policy that facilitates interaction between a country’s resources — land, labour
and capital — or improves the quality of such resources will contribute towards raising the
productivity of the economy.

In many cases, a plethora of archaic and poorly researched rules and regulations present key hurdle
in coming together of economic resources. In other cases, the lack of adequate laws is what is
hindering development of markets.

Similarly, addressing critical infrastructure and diplomatic bottlenecks with the aim to develop trade
linkages with regional Central and South Asian economies can go a long way in improving the
productive potential of the economy. Reforming technical and vocational training programmes is
another area which has not received necessary attention.

Now that the government has already put in place most stabilisation measures, the focus must shift
towards productivity-improving reforms. The economy is expected to start stabilising in a year’s
time. However, all this means is growing at a meagre rate of around 4pc.

If the government does not initiate these reforms now, political considerations closer to election will
once again force the government to rely on expansionary macroeconomic policies to fulfil pre-
election promises. This will be a disaster or a repeat thereof.\
Police torture is rife. When will the state legislate against
it?
For too long torture has been tolerated as an acceptable mode of policing and

investigation. It is time to eradicate it.

Daniyal YousafUpdated Sep 13, 2019 05:43pm

It should morally offend every Pakistani official that such heinous acts happen
regularly in the name of law.
The words ‘torture’ and ‘police’ are inexorably linked in the Pakistani imagination.
Not only is torture the primary interrogative technique of the police, whereby they
brutalise their victims into confessing whatever they are seeking to prove, it is also
openly wielded as a tactic of intimidation and punishment.

Yet, there is no comprehensive anti-torture legislation that defines and criminalises

the act, despite a nominal constitutional prohibition.

Though police torture often makes its way to the public as a news item, human
rights reports, viral videos or as a punchline of jokes, its fundamental quality is its
secrecy. At once, the police’s propensity for torture exists as an amorphous social
fact, yet remains inscrutable and unacknowledged in the judicial process.

While activists and journalists try their best to lift the veil on torture, the state has
hitherto been reluctant to openly accept its existence and take concrete action. For
instance, in its reports regarding the country’s compliance with the human rights
treaties it has ratified, the state obfuscates the reality of torture and makes it seem
like torture is effectively prohibited and prevented.

Any official inquiry on torture, with findings made public, historically has
remained elusive. This dubious distinction, fortunately, has now ended with the
National Commission for Human Rights (NCHR) publishing a landmark report on
its year-long inquiry on systematic torture by police in Faisalabad from 2006 to
2012.

The NCHR’s groundbreaking inquiry was made on the back of a complaint filed
by Justice Project Pakistan (JPP), based on the data the organisation gathered from
Faisalabad in the form of over 1,800 medico-legal certificates (MLC) of victims of
torture compiled by the District Standing Medical Board (DSMB).

The DSMB had carried out these examinations on court orders and had found
conclusive proof of torture in at least 1,424 cases.
The NCHR’s position allowed it to call in police officials, victims and independent
experts to give their testimonies on some selected cases and ask for follow-up
proceedings. Based on this, the NCHR concluded that the Faisalabad police had
indeed systematically committed torture.

Unsurprisingly, in the 19 cases that the NCHR chose to follow up on, it was found
that no police officer involved was prosecuted because, as obliquely written in
official replies, the cases were dropped due to either ‘compromise’ or nonpursual
by victims.

As the chairman of the NCHR, Justice (retd) Ali Nawaz Chowhan, notes in the
report, these ‘compromises’ are unacceptable as they underline how the police uses
their oppressive capacity to force an early closure, belaying the cases’ status as
gross human rights violation requiring redressal.

The lack of any follow-up action in cases where the DSMB found sufficient
evidence indicating torture is a devastating indictment of the impunity with which
the police continue to torture.

To have an MLC made is itself a herculean task for the victims of torture, as, in a
cruel twist, the victim has to file a complaint of torture with the same police it is
accusing of torture and then pursue a case in the courts and win an order to have a
medical exam conducted.

At every step, the victim of torture is discouraged from coming forward and thus it
is safe to assume that most torture cases remain unexamined.

But then, as the NCHR inquiry shows, even if a victim is successful in proving
torture, the perpetrators go unpunished and unquestioned.

The primacy afforded to MLCs should also be questioned as this is the result of
judicial evidentiary protocols that disregard the victim’s testimony of suffering and
overemphasise the supposed scientific objectiveness of the laid out medical
procedure.

By making the body of the victim the only reliable witness in the case against the
torturers, police have been encouraged to develop techniques of torture that ensure
the body of the victim is unable to provide definitive judicial proof.

Despite the overall insufficiency of MLCs to truly depict the extent of torture’s
ghastliness, the findings read like a twisted work of the horror genre.

The victims, who range from as young as 12 to as old as 90 and represent all
genders, were subjected to sadistic practices like being tied to two separate beds
and being stretched until breaking point or being suspended while being weighed
down or to being sexually and psychologically assaulted in various barbaric ways.
The details are simply mind numbing.

Lest anyone claim otherwise, this situation is of course not unique to Faisalabad
but a systemic crisis that has existed in Pakistan across time. To show that torture
by police follows an organisational logic and is its modus operandi, JPP has
compared the Faisalabad data set of 1,867 cases from 2006-12 to a similar data set
of MLCs from Lahore of 1,820 cases from 1998 to 2002.

The comparison reveals remarkable consistency in how the Punjab police carries
out torture and what kinds of people it routinely victimises.

In addition to the kinds and frequency of injuries being quite similar, in both
instances the victims were almost exclusively from underprivileged backgrounds,
working as daily wage labourers, farmers, household help or drivers.

While a majority of victims were men, the eight per cent of women in both
samples were primarily targeted with sexual forms of torture and their trauma and
humiliation was used as a means to psychologically torture their male family
members. This level of assault on women’s bodies reveals a deep and sickening
cultural malaise in the police force.

Furthermore, one can pick up any anecdotal report from any time in Pakistan’s
history, like for example an Amnesty International report from the 1993 and read
about the exact same horrific practices and methods of police torture as those
uncovered in the NCHR inquiry in 2018.

It should morally offend every Pakistani official that such heinous acts happen
regularly in the name of law. The NCHR must be lauded for its efforts to
investigate torture and for promising to not let this issue slide. The Pakistan
Tehreek-i-Insaf government would be well advised to look to this report and
follow the judicious and comprehensive recommendations made by the NCHR.

These recommendations include formulating and enacting a comprehensive anti-

torture law that defines torture in line with the Convention Against Torture and
underline punishments in no uncertain terms, including jail time and removal from
status as a government official for any culprit.

Secondly, it is imperative to have an independent body in charge of investigating

allegations of torture as law enforcement agencies are not impartial actors in these
incidences.

More broadly, it is highly necessary to recognise the factors that have contributed
to the police developing an organisational culture of torture and address them.

These factors include structural constraints like improper training and lack of
investigative resources as well as being an ongoing legacy of the police’s colonial
origins as a repressive force.
The practice of torture is so universally condemned that the prohibition on it is
considered a fundamental international norm. It is important to keep in mind that
international norms are our shared human values and the state of Pakistan owes it
to its citizens to protect them.

The inability or unwillingness to combat the malaise of torture is a permanent stain

on the capacity of the state to provide its citizens a fair and just society.

For too long, torture has been conceived and tolerated as an acceptable and
inevitable mode of policing and investigation in Pakistan. It is time to eradicate it
once and for all.

Representatives of the government have already promised to reform the police with
a mind to combat torture. Thus, their first goal should be to expedite the passage of
the comprehensive anti-torture legislation pending in parliament for over five
years.

Indignity or a security check?

Abbas NasirJune 08, 2019
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The writer is a former editor of Dawn.

LIFE is challenging for the differently abled and most societies staking a
claim to being civilised are legislating and going the extra mile to ensure
people with disabilities are provided necessary facilities to enable them to lead
as productive a life as anyone else.

First and foremost is the issue of accessibility. It is now against the law in many
countries to have buildings without wheelchair access as otherwise those in
wheelchairs can rightfully feel and claim they are being discriminated against.

It is heartening to see that many buildings with public access have ramps and lifts.
And where there are practical difficulties, for example in putting in a ramp,
innovative solutions have been found so those in wheelchairs are not alienated and
can come in and leave just as those without a disability.

Let me state here I have a personal stake in the matter as I had polio at the age of
three and I have walked nearly all my life with the help of a leg brace. Having had
a couple of bad falls over recent years I find it impossible to walk long distances
particularly when pressed for time.
Passing through Pakistan’s airport security can be an ordeal
for those with disabilities.
That means at airports I usually order a wheelchair as I find it stressful and
physically impossible to run to and from aircraft as most modern airports now
seem designed to make passengers walk long distances both at the start and the end
of their journey.

When security fears mounted post 9/11, there was a period when whether disabled,
or otherwise, life at airports was very trying as often long queues were evidenced
at security controls and seemingly ludicrous measures were introduced where
nothing appeared designed to facilitate the passenger.

However, as newer and more effective airport security measures were introduced
and fail-safe equipment was developed those staffing security controls gained in
confidence that 9/11 type attacks were unlikely to be staged again.

Then, of course, newer measures were put in place again when law enforcement
busted a terror plot, which involved the planned use of liquid explosives. In that
period, I have a clear recollection how my wife was a picture of exasperation when
at London Heathrow she was asked to drink from our daughter’s milk bottle.

I digress. Let me get to the point quickly. Last week, passing through Barcelona
Airport I was reminded how wonderfully the Spanish treat people with disabilities.
My wheelchair was waiting for me and I was taken through a security control
dedicated to airline crew and passengers with mobility issues.

The polite security official asked me if I could get up. On being told yes he asked
me whether he should take special care while frisking any particular area of my
body that might be more vulnerable to pain. I said no. Even then the frisking was
gentle.

Even before he started to pat me down, I started to explain that I was wearing a leg
brace and he nodded as if to say he was already aware. Then he asked me to sit
down in the wheelchair and asked his colleague for something.

The colleague swabbed my boots, parts of the leg brace and before going away
asked me to wait for a minute. He seemed to insert the strip-swab into a machine.
Very soon he gestured for me to move on and I was on my way. A short while later
I reached the aircraft via a wheelchair-electric buggy-wheelchair combination.

This was not the only occasion where security staff swabbed my footwear and leg
brace. I’d seen similar procedure at the Eurotunnel security check before driving
our car onto the train at Dover for the Channel crossing to Calais. In that case,
they’d swabbed different parts of the car such as the door handles and boot etc.
The swab is then inserted into an Explosives Trace Detection (ETD) device which
can be a desktop version or handheld. It checks to see if the swab picked up any
trace of explosives as all explosives are said to carry signature vapours.

This is said to be a cost-effective way of identifying someone who has handled

explosives or a surface such a person may have touched. As opposed to this
scientific method, whenever I have passed through security at Pakistani airports I
have found the officials tentative and unsure.

This is a training issue and a leadership failure and no fault of the person deployed
at security control as they have no idea of what to do. For example, I have been
asked to take off my boot and brace when I am unable to do it in the time and
space available.

On one occasion, an official wanted me to literally strip so he could be satisfied my

leg brace and boot were not camouflaging a weapon or explosives. I flatly refused
to suffer that indignity. Consultations with a few ‘Sir’ seniors, and he thought
better of it and let me pass.

The Airport Security Force demonstrated its will and valour to do the right thing
when terrorists attacked the Karachi airport in the summer of 2014. It held off the
surprise terror assault and a dozen brave ASF personnel offered the ultimate
sacrifice.

Bu what can its personnel do when instead of equipping them with ETD devices
and training them to deal with passengers such as myself, the ASF bosses instead
spend untold amounts on a device to check vehicles for explosives which is now
discredited as it was fake.

Yes, we have all seen ASF personnel walking down the length of our vehicles at
airports with something resembling a short-wave radios aerial fitted to a handle
that fits into the palm. The aerial is supposed to dip if the car has explosives on
board.

The device ‘developers’ who swindled some £80 million selling it to security
forces in Iraq and elsewhere, including reportedly, the ASF in Pakistan were
convicted several years back and are currently in a UK prison. So, the sooner we
focus on the right thing the better it would be.