Deterrence and diplomacy

Maleeha Lodhi Published March 27, 2023 Updated about 4 hours ago 0

The writer is a former ambassador to the US, UK & UN.

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THE strategic choices most consequential to Pakistan’s future lie within. They involve dealing with
recurrent economic crises, providing effective governance, defeating terrorism, making education
accessible to all its children and generating jobs to absorb the population’s youth bulge to avert a
potential demographic disaster. The implications of these internal challenges for national security are
apparent and can be ignored only at great peril to the country.

But external security challenges have been no less imposing since the country’s inception, confronting it
with enduring dilemmas. The burden of history and tyranny of geography — a volatile neighbourhood
and the headwinds of geopolitics unleashed by big power competition — have consistently put security
from external threats at the top of Pakistan’s national agenda. Contested borders inherited from
colonial rule compounded this dilemma.

Few books have been written by Pakistanis about how the country’s enduring external security
predicament motivated its quest for a nuclear capability. Feroze Khan’s Eating Grass was the first to
chronicle Pakistan’s nuclear history and the challenges it faced to acquire a nuclear weapons capability.

The book’s concern with how Pakistan surmounted numerous obstacles to master the nuclear fuel cycle
left a gap in the role of diplomacy and how its diplomats defended the country and promoted its
interests in the nuclear domain.

A compelling new book now fills that gap. The Security Imperative: Pakistan’s Nuclear Deterrence and
Diplomacy by Zamir Akram, deals with nuclear diplomacy with sharp insight and extraordinary breadth.
Having dealt first-hand with nuclear issues and negotiations, Akram, an outstanding diplomat, is
especially qualified to tell the definitive story of Pakistan’s quest for security by acquiring credible
nuclear deterrence in which diplomacy played a crucial role.

Pakistan’s main challenges lie within but external security has also posed enduring dilemmas.
The main theme of his well-researched book is the security-driven nature of Pakistan’s nuclear
deterrence. In the opening chapter, Akram describes how the country’s security compulsions were the
consequence of history and geography. The legacy of disputes and hostility with India shaped its security
paradigm.

Pakistan initially relied on an external balancing strategy including military alliances to assure its
security. But this failed to prevent India’s aggression in 1971. That together with the 1974 Indian nuclear
explosion convinced Pakistan to seek a nuclear capability as a security guarantor. Geography worsened
Pakistan’s security predicament given its location in an unstable neighbourhood with challenges
emanating from Afghanistan.

A key theme in the book is the discriminatory treatment meted out to Pakistan by the US-led West and
how Pakistan’s diplomacy navigated through this while protecting and advancing its nuclear and missile
programmes. Akram recalls how after India’s 1974 nuclear explosion the US ended up punishing
Pakistan for what India had done.

“Through a series of legislative measures such as the Glenn, Symington and Solarz amendments, the US
effort was essentially to prevent Pakistan from pursuing its own nuclear weapons capabilities.”
Pakistan’s civilian nuclear cooperation agreements were cancelled under American pressure, first with
Canada and then the Reprocessing Plant agreement with France. Thereafter Pakistan had to pursue a
covert nuclear weapons programme.

Pakistan used the period of its close relationship with the US following the 1979 Russian invasion of
Afghanistan to build its nuclear capability, capitalising on what Akram calls the “strategic space”
provided by this development.

So long as it didn’t conduct a nuclear test, make a weapon core and share technology, US pressure was
kept at bay, he writes. Waivers on American non-proliferation laws and adherence to the “tacit
understanding” enabled Pakistan to receive assistance and also move forward to build its capabilities.

But no sooner had the Russians been forced to withdraw from Afghanistan when the US imposed
sanctions on Pakistan in October 1990 under its Pressler law. Islamabad protested, pointing out that
unilateral measures aimed only at Pakistan would not promote regional nonproliferation. It also pressed
on with its nuclear plans, conducting “cold tests” and shifting from its uranium-based nuclear weapons
capability to the plutonium route.
Akram outlines the diplomatic initiatives taken by Pakistan in the 1990s, offering a series of regional
nonproliferation proposals to the US and India.

In the chapter ‘Roller Coaster’, he describes developments in which I was also intimately involved in our
nuclear diplomacy as Pakistan’s ambassador to Washington. Pakistan-US relations had then plunged into
crisis which only eased after prime minister Benazir Bhutto came to power, undertook an official visit to
Washington and was able to convince president Bill Clinton that Washington needed to reassess its
policy because its punitive approach had not worked. Clinton was to later publicly acknowledge that it
was unfair to keep both Pakistan’s money and the F-16s it had paid for.

It was then that Senator Hank Brown informed me — as mentioned in the book — that he intended to
move an amendment to the Pressler legislation to lift the ban on economic assistance to Pakistan and
release all embargoed military equipment including the F-16s. Between then and the success of the
Brown Amendment, for which the Pakistan Embassy lobbied hard, the Clinton administration tried to
secure a unilateral nuclear concession from Pakistan in return for supporting the amendment.

Pakistan refused, including the proposal to “cap” its nuclear weapons programme in exchange for
release of the F-16s. I was present in meetings during the visit of army chief Gen Waheed Kakar to
Washington when he flatly told the Americans that as “Pakistan’s national security was non-negotiable”
they could keep the planes. In the end, the Brown Amendment was adopted, economic sanctions lifted
and military equipment worth $368 million was released except the F-16s.

Akram details the talks between the US and Pakistan before and after Pakistan’s nuclear tests that
followed India’s in 1998. Later chapters again pick up the theme of nuclear discrimination, discuss the
2005 Indo-US nuclear deal and the implications for Pakistan of this “nuclear exceptionalism”.

Pakistan’s response and plan to achieve ‘full spectrum deterrence’, announced in 2011, is also appraised
with clarity. Accounts of Pakistan’s bilateral and multilateral nuclear diplomacy contain many useful
insights. Important as the nuclear capability has been to provide Pakistan with the means to deter
external aggression, an important conclusion of the book is that nuclear deterrence cannot deal with
internal challenges which Pakistan is facing. That in turn can weaken deterrence.

Prioritising workplace safety

Zulfiqar Shah Published March 27, 2023  Updated about 6 hours ago
THE collapse of some iron girders of a flyover under construction
at Bhara Kahu in Islamabad earlier this month exposes the poor
safety measures at the workplace. This was the second incident of a
safety lapse at the project site within a week. No human losses were
reported in the latest incident but two labourers were killed in the
first one. The flyover is part of the Capital Development Authority’s
Bhara Kahu bypass project, costing taxpayers a hefty Rs6.5 billion.

While there was no official word on the reasons behind the incidents, it is
reported that work was being done in haste to meet a March 23, 2023,
deadline set by the prime minister, who is known for getting projects
completed even before their projected completion dates. The federal
government formed an inquiry committee. The report of an obvious case of
negligence is yet to be determined by the committee, as is action against those
responsible for the loss of lives.

This is not the first time that poor safety measures have been reported at a
mega government project. Over two dozen workers lost their lives and several
were injured during the execution of the Orange Line train project in Lahore a
few years ago. Occupational safety and health (OSH), broadly defined as
measures to prevent diseases, injuries and accidents resulting in death at the
workplace, has gained significant momentum in recent years, thanks to the
global campaign for workers’ safety.

The International Labour Organisation introduced new conventions on a safe

and healthy work environment during the International Labour Conference in
June 2022. This means that OSH Conventions C155 and C187 now form part
of the International Labour Standards (ILS). The landmark move requires UN
members to respect and promote the right to safe working conditions, regard-
less of the ratification of these conventions.

There is no system of properly checking workplace safety in Pakistan.

The adoption of the two OSH conventions was not an easy task. It was after 24
years that the number of core conventions were increased from eight to 10.
This came in response to concerns about increasing work-related deaths and
injuries. According to ILO estimates, 2.3 million people die every year due to
work-related accidents and diseases globally. This translates to 6,000 deaths
every day. An additional 270m suffer injuries while 160m must contend with
work-related illnesses annually. There is no system of proper reporting of
safety and health-related incidents in Pakistan as the relevant departments
have little capacity. The Labour Force Survey reports four per cent of the
working population suffers from OSH issues. This means that one in 25
workers experiences either injuries or disease at the workplace.

The latest global outcry against poor safety measures at the workplace is a
result of three of the deadliest industrial accidents during the last decade,
which included the Rana Plaza and Tazreen factory fires in Dhaka and the Ali
Enterprises fire in Karachi. Together, 1,500 were killed and 3,000 injured.

Unsafe workplaces do not only result in the loss of human lives: they also
mean heavy financial losses for local suppliers and international sourcing
brands, and damage to business reputation. In a globalised world, a single
social media post can drastically reduce business.

After the Ali Enterprises factory fire, the sourcing German retailer KIK agreed
to pay over $5 million in compensation to the Pakistani workers. The local
owners of the factory suffered too. The tragedy could have been avoided with a
little investment and security measures. However, a positive aspect was that it
resulted in comprehensive legislation. Sindh took the lead by enacting the
Sindh Occupational Safety and Health Act, 2017. This was followed by a
similar law in Punjab in 2019. Both laws are considered not only
comprehensive but the best in the region. In addition to various positive
provisions, the laws are applicable to all workplaces, including construction
which is among the most dangerous sectors. However, the implementation of
these laws remains a big challenge — because of both capacity constraints and
the lack of political will.

Sindh has only 15 OSH inspectors for a labour force of over 16m. The two OSH
directorates located in Karachi, the largest industrial city, operate without any
equipment or facilities. As a result, not a single construction site appears to
have been inspected or checked since the passage of the law six years ago.

Matters in other places are not too different: there are a little over 500 labour
inspectors in the country to look after the interests of a 72 million-strong
labour force. The majority of them are poorly trained and inadequately
equipped. There is no substitute for state regulations and oversight; one
should not have to see workers die and businesses suffer because the
government has yet to invest in this important area.

The emerging alternative is a credible and technically sound private inspection

system with the financial and political support of all key stakeholders — the
government, local business, global brands and labour. The International
Accord on Health and Safety in the garment and textile industry is one such
example which provides inspection and remediation services to the industry.

Due to the successful operation of the accord, Bangladesh has been rated as a
frontrunner country globally in safety. The programme is being extended to
Pakistan and should be welcomed. Learning from this example, stakeholders
in Pakistan may consider investing in a broader private system to cover all
workplaces, including government-executed construction projects.

Equally important is investing in and the upgradation of official inspection

systems and the extension of relevant laws across Pakistan, including
Islamabad which by now is already a medium-sized commercial hub.

Safe and healthy workplaces would not only help save lives but also increase
productivity, enhance business reputation and fulfil basic rights as guaranteed
under the Constitution and international laws.

Shattered dreams
Muna Khan Published March 27, 2023  Updated about 6 hours ago

   

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The writer researches newsroom culture in Pakistan.
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“I SPENT a year in a refugee camp yet somehow I ended up here on

Hollywood’s biggest stage,” said an emotional Ke Quy Huan as he
accepted his Oscar for best supporting actor for his role in
Everything Everywhere All At Once. “They say stories like this only
happen in the movies. I cannot believe this is happening to me. This
is the American dream.”

Traditional and social media loved Huan’s speech for two reasons: the former
Goonies star made a comeback after a long absence from the screen and two,
he gave the “perfect” speech on a stage which has been too often used to “air
grievances about our country, culture” one movie critic wrote.

Huan was eight when he came to the US via Hong Kong after fleeing his home
country Vietnam. Last month, the Biden administration said it would limit
asylum to migrants who pass through a third nation. It echoes a similar effort
by the Trump administration which was blocked in court. It is unlikely to deter
the thousands who will risk their lives to escape conflict, abuse, and economic
crises to reach US shores in search of the American dream.

We know that not everyone has equal opportunities to move up in life.

Millennials in the US may be the first generation to be poorer than their
parents. Capitalism has benefited the wealthy but has done squat to figure out
how to redistribute wealth — and yet the dream thrives.

What unites the escapees is an anger at injustice.

Who benefits from this dream? Certainly CEOs have long been living the
dream while innumerable people can’t make ends meet or afford healthcare.
Those who tried to challenge the inequalities wrought by the capitalist
structures, like Senator Bernie Sanders, were rejected by voters. In fact, after
Huan’s win, Sanders tweeted a grim reminder: “Just a few years ago, in the
midst of a deadly pandemic, he lost his healthcare because he was not
working. Yes, we must end the employer-based, for-profit healthcare system
and finally guarantee healthcare as a right to all.”

All this talk of the American dream led me to question what the Pakistani
dream is. I believe that dream is to get out of the country.

At least 800,000 Pakistanis emigrated in 2022 when inflation was at 24.5 per
cent, according to the Pakistan Bureau of Statistics. Last month, they reported
inflation was 31pc and decision-makers seem unable to manage anything so of
course more people will want to leave. For security — physical, financial,
emotional and mental.

In 2000, the BBC cited a survey by Gallup Pakistan which found that two-
thirds of Pakistan’s adult population wanted to go abroad to work and did not
want to return. In 1984, a similar survey said only 17pc wanted to move
abroad.

In 2001, I wrote a piece for Dawn’s Sunday magazine ‘Why I came back’, a
rejoinder of sorts to an earlier piece about why someone wanted to leave. I
don’t identify as that hopeful person anymore, and I don’t harbour regrets, but
I feel resigned. When students write to ask me how they can get out, I don’t
sell hope anymore. (Sidebar: I’m always going to advocate for careers in the
news media but I add more caveats because I still believe independent
journalism can hold the powerful to account.)
I watch videos of young overseas Pakistanis screaming in rage about their
leader being their red line and I marvel at their love for a land they haven’t
been to. Are they fighting to ‘save’ a nation that forced their parents to leave,
or do they feel they can’t realise their own ‘passport-holding country’ dream
and want to live in Pakistan because they feel they belong here? Everyone
seems to be escaping to somewhere but what unites the escapees is an anger at
injustice, even if the source of injustice is wildly different.

What can folks do to redirect their anger at the gross inequality and lack of
opportunity brought about by the architects of dreams?

So many Pakistanis brought into the dreams promised by leaders — civilian,

military, a hotchpotch of the two — about a progressive country, free of ethnic
or religious hate, where access to social services and justice was possible. No
one has delivered on their promises but they have all become wealthier.

Dreams seem less about opportunity than about acquiring material things.
Governments support homeowners but absolve themselves of providing
homes for the poor. If the pursuit of happiness is driven by greed, it will lead
to collapse as witnessed in the 1920s. Whichever leadership emerges next in
Pakistan, it must make promises based on equality and accord opportunities
to all. To do anything else will plunge people into a worse nightmare.

Taming tectonics
Zarrar Khuhro Published March 27, 2023  Updated about 3 hours ago

   

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The writer is a journalist.
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LAST Tuesday, a powerful earthquake rocked Pakistan and

Afghanistan, with tremors felt as far afield as India. The quake,
which had its epicentre in the Hindu Kush was measured at 6.5 on
the Richter scale, and huge damage was only avoided because the
quake occurred at a depth of some 184 kilometres.

Nevertheless, over a dozen people have been reported killed in Pakistan and
Afghanistan, with most of the fatalities resulting from collapsed walls and
roofs. It was a close call in a region where, due to the juncture of the Eurasian
and Indian tectonic plates, earthquakes are a regular and deadly feature.

Despite this, most residents in Islamabad said that they had no actual idea of
the safest ways to evacuate a building during a quake; no one had told them to
avoid elevators and no building administration had ever bothered to conduct
an earthquake drill. As with most things, Pakistanis were left to handle the
situation as best they could.

Pictures and videos soon began to make their way onto social media, with
residents showing cracked walls and columns, even in newly constructed
buildings. Now some level of damage is inevitable in such cases but, given the
memories of the 2005 quake, and also the recent devastation in Turkey,
questions were once again asked as to how earthquake-resistant our buildings
are. The answer is, ‘not at all’.

Examples abound of how to minimise building damage.

But if one were to look at what earthquake resistant architecture could look
like, here are some examples: to start with, the fundamental concept is to
build structures that may sway, bend or ‘distort’ but will not easily collapse.

To find a model, one can start by looking at traditional architecture in quake-

prone areas, beginning with Kashmir where the earthquake-resistant Dhajji
Diwari buildings are a subject of focus among architects in India, especially
after the 2005 quake when it was seen that buildings constructed using this
technique fared better than more ‘modern’ buildings.

This wasn’t the first time the design had proven its worth: in the Srinagar
quake of 1885, these buildings were the ones that survived while many others
were flattened.

The secret is in the name itself: ‘dhaji’ is derived from a Persian word used by
carpet weavers to describe a quilt patchwork, while ‘dewari’ means ‘wall’. Put
those together and you have a quilt-like timber patchwork frame used to
strengthen and fortify walls that are constructed not from concrete but from
local materials which provide stiffness, but not strength, allowing buildings to
sway and bend, but lowering the chances of collapse by tying the building
together.

Similar architecture can be seen in the Indian state of Uttarkhand, where the
traditional pherols follow a similar building style, with the addition of wooden
blocks and long flat stones in the walls to distribute the seismic pressure.

The Japanese archipelago, circled as it is by the volcanic ‘ring of fire’, has seen
countless deadly earthquakes, and its traditional architecture reflects that
history.
Take the pagodas, which have survived devastating earthquakes over the
centuries: the main features of this design are the ‘shinbashira’, a heavy
central column that acts as a shock absorber and resembles a human spine in
its design, allowing the building to flex and sway slightly.

Then there are wide heavy eaves that act as dampers and ‘floating floors’ that
are disconnected from the rest of the building, allowing them to absorb
seismic motion without bringing the whole building down. Taken together,
these allow the pagodas to absorb most of the seismic energy without affecting
the entire structure too badly.

Many of these features have been incorporated in modern earthquake-

resistant design, especially in Japan, and work on what is called the principle
of ‘seismic isolation’. This means the building is placed on some sort of a shock
absorber, which is sometimes simply thick blocks of rubber, that then absorb
the motion of the earthquake. Along with this, motion dampers, also called
‘seismic dampers’, are placed in the building to absorb vibrations.

One of the best examples of advanced earthquake-resistant building

technology is found in Taiwan’s Taipei 101 tower, which consists of a giant
golden ball hanging just below the observatory deck and which is designed to
generate a reaction force that counters the vibrations caused by outside forces,
whether it be an earthquake or a typhoon.

One understands that calling for even some of these measures to be

introduced in Pakistan, where even adhering to basic buildings codes is
unlikely, is a bit of a stretch. But the point is that modern technology and the
architectural wisdom of the ages are both available for those who want to avail
themselves of these, and possibly save a few thousand lives in the process. Or
at the very least, one could hold an earthquake drill.

Lessons from past crises

Ahmed Bilal Mehboob Published March 26, 2023  Updated a day ago

   

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The writer is president of the Pakistan Institute of Legislative Development
And Transparency.
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PAKISTAN’S political crisis is deepening with every passing day.

The fact that the Punjab Assembly election that was scheduled for
April 30 has been delayed to Oct 8 by the Election Commission has
further vitiated the political climate. Although Pakistan is in the
grip of multiple crises including an unprecedented economic
crunch and mounting security threats, it is the political crisis that
is at the heart of all crises. If the political system were fully
functional, it could focus on and address all other crises.

After the general election of 1970 in united Pakistan, the two largest parties,
the Awami League in East Pakistan led by Sheikh Mujib and the Pakistan
Peoples Party (PPP) led by Zulfikar Ali Bhutto in West Pakistan, faced a
constitutional deadlock as Sheikh Mujib insisted on his six-point programme
which was not acceptable to Bhutto. Despite extreme polarisation, the two
parties held more than one round of negotiations, but sadly, an agreement
could not be reached and ultimately the military struck, leading to Mujib’s
arrest, civil war and the breakup of Pakistan.

The political leadership of a truncated Pakistan, led by Bhutto, picked up the

pieces of a broken, demoralised Pakistan in 1971 and built it back after giving
the country a unanimously adopted Constitution in 1973. This was made
possible because even Bhutto’s bitter political rivals, including the National
Awami Party’s (NAP) Wali Khan and Ghaus Bakhsh Bizenjo, Jamiat Ulema-e-
Pakistan’s (JUI) Mufti Mehmood, towering independent leader Sardar
Sherbaz Mazari and many others were willing to sit with him and his party
and complete the arduous task of framing a constitution by incorporating all
or most of the competing demands of diverse political parties.

One should pay tribute to the leadership of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto who stepped
back from many of his own political preferences in order to carry with him the
entire spectrum of political leadership of what was left of the country. Political
give-and-take, although much maligned and misunderstood in our part of the
world, was accepted as a legitimate way of taking the political process forward.

Had the political system been fully functional, it could have addressed all our
crises.

The provincial governments of NAP and JUI in Balochistan and the erstwhile
NWFP were sacked by president Bhutto a few months before the passage of
the 1973 Constitution but the two aggrieved parties and their leaders did not
allow the bitterness to come in the way of signing the agreed Constitution.

It is true that the atmosphere of a deep sense of loss and the realisation of not
repeating past mistakes was fresh in everyone’s mind and that helped in
reaching an agreement, but a purely political dialogue free from any coercive
interference and undue influence from the military also played a pivotal role
in the successful negotiations over constitution-making. As a result, the
country, despite the existential setback, was able to come out of the deep crisis
and move forward.

Although Pakistan was not so lucky in some other crises which followed the
successful framing of the 1973 Constitution, there are lessons to be learnt and,
if possible, applied in today’s context. Despite Bhutto’s sterling qualities as a
politician and a world-class statesman, he could not fully overcome his
autocratic tendencies and deep-seated contempt for the majority, if not all, of
the opposition leaders. He was probably the first among the top political
leaders of Pakistan to use such derogatory terms as ‘chuha’(mouse) and
‘double-barrel Khan’ against his political opponents. He was extremely rough
in dealing with political opponents who suffered huge indignities and torture
in captivity during his rule. Close party colleagues like J.A. Rahim, Meraj
Muhammad Khan, Mukhtar Rana, Ahmad Raza Kasuri and several others also
suffered a great deal when they dared to differ with him.

Since Bhutto was personally a very popular politician, at least during the early
part of his government, very few people from within the party dared to raise
their voice against these strong-arm tactics, but as his popularity declined and
disaffection spread, all these forces, feeling a vengeful bitterness, rallied
against him in the form of the Pakistan National Alliance (PNA) in the general
election of 1977.

To the credit of both Bhutto and the opposition leaders, and partly because of
the successful facilitation of the then Saudi ambassador, the two sides sat
down at the negotiating table to resolve the huge crisis which had erupted
after allegations of widespread rigging in the elections, in the form of the
powerful civil disobedience movement that raged in the country. Despite the
protracted negotiations, when an agreement was reportedly at hand, a military
coup struck and sadly, hardly any opposition leader opposed it.

Later, the opposition leaders joined Gen Ziaul Haq’s cabinet and endorsed the
death sentence passed against Bhutto by the Supreme Court. Many years later,
Justice Nasim Hasan Shah, who was a part of the bench which passed the
death sentence against Bhutto, admitted in a TV talk show that ‘Mr Bhutto and
his lawyers had angered the judges’. When Bhutto was executed, many
opposition leaders and some from his own party expressed satisfaction,
though a large number of people within the country and abroad protested and
expressed deep anger and sadness. The failure of talks between the
government and the opposition had extremely tragic consequences.

The analysis of these crises provides us with an unmistakable insight into

crisis resolution. First and foremost, there is no escape from negotiations,
even with bitter rivals. Second, opponents who badmouth each other and use
insulting language burn bridges and make negotiations difficult, if not
impossible. Third, there should be no rigid positions; ‘compromise’ is not a
dirty word. Accommodating opponents’ reasonable demands is not
capitulation. A compromise can lead to a win-win outcome both for the
country and the political leadership. Fourth, the time to resolve a crisis is not
unlimited; lost time leads to a vacuum which sucks in other forces. And lastly,
the consequences of failure to resolve a crisis can be disastrous both for the
country and individual actors.

Only way out

Abbas Nasir Published March 26, 2023  Updated a day ago

   

The writer is a former editor of Dawn.

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TO a layman like me, as it is to legal eagles if their statements are

anything to go by, the Constitution is unambiguous in saying
elections are to be held within 90 days of a dissolution of an
assembly before it completes its term and within 60 days on
completion of its full term.

That is the unadulterated truth. All else is politics. Mostly to safeguard

narrow, partisan or institutional interests. Does anyone care what is in the
larger interest of the country? Not one stakeholder or decision-maker. Yes, not
one.

More than one dictator out of our illustrious breed of many is on record
unashamedly telling the media on camera that the Constitution is no holy
document and can be shredded at will and tossed into the rubbish bin.
Dictators will be dictators. Their existence hinges on trampling on the
Constitution.

But even they need facilitators. And some of the reputedly best legal minds in
the country have tripped over each other and rushed to help with drafting
Provisional Constitution Orders — PCOs — and amendments, when the
dictator has snapped his fingers (the dictator has always belonged to one
gender in our case).

Does anyone care what is in the larger interest of the country? Not one
stakeholder or decision-maker.

These legal minds who have intimate knowledge of the Constitution, unlike
laypeople like you and I, have come up with near perfect ways to undermine it,
such as new oaths of office for those who dispense justice and form the
ultimate court of appeals.

They have had the gall and ingenuity to develop terms like ‘chief executive’ to
give a uniformed military ruler a ‘civilian garb’. They have been so eager to
oblige the dictator that they wouldn’t have shied away from stitching a cloak
with ‘Superman’ lettered across it, had the dictator asked for that.

Among their specialties, of course, is drafting flawless notifications, granting

extension to a man of arms, while elected prime ministers can be ousted once,
twice, thrice or a greater number of times, even hanged and assassinated and
the Constitution mutilated but there was no problem, no issue, no crisis.

But the nation’s health is imperilled, its future turns bleak if the chief wants an
extension and does not get it. These legal minds steeped in sheer dictatorial
glory and blinded by its brilliance and splendour are not the only facilitators,
as a cursory glance at the history of our blighted land will tell you.
Then there are those who endorse every transgression of a dictator, give him
years of space and enable him to amend the Constitution so any inconvenience
he may have had while binning the ‘useless’ document would not impede him
again. Only fools like you and I believe the document is sacrosanct.

Why else would the men in black robes, and the now dispensed with wigs, rule
as they have on multiple occasions in the past. Even an abridged history,
summarising their chapters of shame must run into hundreds of pages. The
few who have held their head high in upholding the law have been demonised
and marginalised. The practice continues.

That is why now the onus is on the chief justice of Pakistan to provide a
transparent, credible solution so that the crisis-ridden country can navigate its
way out of the intractable mess it finds itself in today. You could ask why the
chief justice?

Well, it was his institution that may have contributed to the crisis today, even
precipitated it, by one of its verdicts that constitutional experts have described
as being tantamount to a rewriting of the Constitution. Yes, I am referring to
the court’s interpretation of Article 63-A where it went way beyond the letter
of the law which stipulated disqualification of an assembly member for floor-
crossing and not the nullifying the vote cast in defiance of party orders.

This one verdict was one among several over the past few years that was seen
as controversial. This impression was strengthened by the fact that over this
period, as per basic statistics gathered by a Karachi law firm, one particular set
of judges were on the bench in cases of political significance, eight times more
often than other more, or equally, senior judges.

The constitution of the bench, recusals and the formation of yet another bench
in the suo motu hearing into the delay in the holding of elections by the
Election Commission within the mandated 90 days of the dissolution of the
Punjab and KP assemblies further muddied the waters, as did the public
stance of some judges that their view was omitted from the final order.

This was interpreted as a sign of divisions in the honourable institution that is

mandated with upholding the Constitution and fundamental rights. Therefore,
if the impression isn’t rectified sooner than later it might undermine faith in
the apex court. The court can’t be and isn’t partisan and ought not to be seen
as such.
It is this very perception that has enabled extra-constitutional forces to enjoy a
free hand. The former army chief’s first conversation with a journalist widely
reported in the media over the past several weeks, and now a newer
conversation since denied, is ample proof of how the apex court has been
viewed by other power players.

It is tragic that such issues even brought into question the validity of the order
which was in line with constitutional provisions. The Supreme Court ordered
the Election Commission to hold elections within the stipulated period or a
date as near as possible to the deadline. What we have today is a crisis created
by divisions in society, politics and key institutions.

Perhaps, one way forward would be the constitution of a full bench of the apex
court so that any unambiguous order issued leaves no room for
misinterpretation. It will enable the court to adjudicate in an open,
transparent manner which will carry the weight of credibility to ensure wider
acceptance.

Leveraging diaspora
Aisha Khan Published March 26, 2023  Updated a day ago

   

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The writer is the chief executive of the Civil Society Coalition of Climate
Change.
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IN its original formulation, diaspora referred to the dispersal of

the Jewish people following the destruction of the First Temple. In
the mid-19th century it was adopted by the Moravian Church to
describe its congregation, and in the 20th century it was extended
to a limited number of peoples dispersed beyond their homeland,
traumatically or otherwise. However, more recently it has been
applied to a wide range of migrant communities that are believed
by observers to exhibit some sort of sociocultural or political
cohesion in host countries.

The United Nations Populations Division estimates that around 266 million
people live outside their country of origin. Some countries like Israel and
Armenia have diaspora populations greater in number than their own
populations.
The concept of diaspora is quite broad and different disciplines tend to use it
to mean different things. However, there is prevailing consensus that diaspora
is a group that recognises its separateness based on common
ethnicity/nationality, lives in a host country, and maintains some kind of
attachment to the home country. This attachment can be cultural or have
latent or overt tendencies towards political action and a desire for engagement
through active measures such as sending remittances, funding civic projects,
forming groups to lobby for and using different platforms to build a
constituency of support for the home country in host countries. Organised
diaspora communities can also promote trade and foreign direct investment,
create businesses, and spur entrepreneurship and transfer new knowledge and
skills.

The dynamic power of the diaspora enables them to become influencers who
play a significant role as actors in international affairs. The Chinese and
Indian diasporas are the best examples of economic power.

The dynamic power of the diaspora enables them to become influencers.

The enormous potential of the diaspora is growing rapidly, with new forms of
media and communications technologies enabling them to play a
transformational role as productive members of the host country, and agents
of change for the country of origin. Sustained engagement with the diaspora,
especially towards building physical capital and productivity, helps in boosting
job creation, living standards and higher growth.

The Pakistani diaspora is a national asset that should be engaged and

deployed as such. Climate change offers an opportunity for harnessing this
potential in sectors that will crystallise the government’s strategy for attracting
talent. At present, the Pakistani diaspora is not one cohesive whole. It is made
up of diverse sub-groups without a strategic vision of strengthening country
interests. Divided, the diaspora is not likely to self-organise itself in ways that
maximise its political or economic leverage, complicating engagement. But
this does not mean that a positive loop cannot be created for collaboration at
higher levels of policymaking through engagement with universities, large
corporations and industry bodies.

A mapping of the diasporic spread, including their size and distribution

around the world can help in gauging their potential impact as enablers and
influencers. Channelling this vital resource for long-term strategic investment
can pay rich dividends.
With globalisation on the rise, Pakistan should move beyond looking at its
diaspora solely as a source of remittances and study the example of countries
that have converted their ‘brain drain’ into a ‘brain chain’ that helps in the
circulation of technology, capital, managerial and institutional expertise.

Deepening strategic engagement with the diaspora can advance economic

links, and build transnational networks for trade, investment and innovation.
This shift in perception from multicultural narratives to partners in
development can open doors for wider engagement.

Pakistan can use its embassies as focal agencies to attract professional

diaspora talent, using an apolitical approach to initiate engagement. The new
age, tech-savvy diplomats can widen engagement, beyond conventional
approaches, to define the contours of climate diplomacy for enhanced
cooperation in climate action.

Diaspora clusters can make direct and indirect contributions in helping to

build a resilient future for Pakistan. This can include support in advocacy,
strengthening capacity, technical back stopping, sharing research inputs and
resource mobilisation for building resilient infrastructure, among others. The
options for creative engagement are many. With the release of the Sixth
Assessment Report 2023, it is clear that the climate crisis has now become a
planetary crisis. Pakistan needs all hands on deck to cope with this existential
threat. It is time to bridge fault lines and put Pakistan first.

Public toilets for women

Dhuha Alvi | Arif Hasan Published March 26, 2023  Updated a day ago

   

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WHEN general elections loom, the one issue that all political
parties raise to win over potential voters is public infrastructure.
Plans for building new roads and flyovers (often unnecessarily),
and improving existing ones, become part of their largely
unfulfilled manifestos. They also talk of education, employment,
health and public transport. But in all this, the missing piece of the
jigsaw puzzle are public washrooms. As per a 2015 Unicef estimate,
41 million Pakistanis do not have access to a toilet. The absence of
public toilets limits the possibility of maintaining a land-use plan,
worsens public health and restricts access to education,
employment and recreation, especially for women.

Women in Karachi maintain that one reason why they frequent new malls in
the city is because they contain clean, well-lit toilet facilities. Understanding
the necessity for public toilets, the Sindh government decreed in 2012 that the
private sector build public toilets with every petrol pump. This was
implemented, but today, they have no water, no lights and are unclean. Gen
Zia’s ban on public urinals about four decades ago had also exacerbated the
problem because in the absence of public toilets, cisgender men resorted to
urinating in the open — which put children at risk of stunting. Women have
been the worst sufferers as unlike men, they cannot even relieve themselves in
the open due to sociocultural and biological factors.

When it comes to biology, it is no secret that most women typically menstruate

for four decades. In a culture where menstrual products are kept hidden from
the public eye, it is unsurprising that the need for period-friendly — and, thus,
women-friendly — public facilities is brushed under the rug. This probably
does not cross the minds of our policymakers, given that the bulk of them are
cisgender men who have never had to face the physical and emotional pain of
menstruating.

Then come sociocultural factors, which are intertwined with biological

considerations. There is evidence to show that conversations about urination
facilities are taboo in conservative societies like ours; women are discouraged
from drinking water or eating adequately at their office — for as long as they
are outside their home — just so they don’t have to undergo the discomfort of
locating and using a public washroom.

Pakistan is among the 10 worst countries for access to toilets.

Women-specific washrooms (rarely found in public spaces) tend to be situated

in dark corners and are poorly designed. Bathroom locks are either non-
existent or weak, increasing the threat of sexual violence. Ultimately, women’s
health is jeopardised because their bodies do not get the required nutrients or
hydration. Moreover, they develop urinary tract infections — as commonly
seen after the 2022 floods, when millions of women struggled to use
washrooms in the camps.
When public washrooms are unavailable or unclean and without water, girls
and women are disproportionately hit. They are forced to miss school or work,
and eventually confine themselves to their homes. Those opposed to girls’
education benefit from this gap in service delivery. Women’s workforce
participation and education take a backseat, allowing an already male-
dominated society to further exclude women.

A major reason for the non-maintenance of existing public washrooms is that

the government body that owns them rents them out to contractors for
maintenance, without proper monitoring. The contractor charges people
which deters many from using the washrooms. Sanitary workers who clean
them complain of being overworked, underpaid, or not paid at all for months.

According to a 2016 WaterAid report, Pakistan is among the 10 worst

countries for access to toilets. This highlights the need for urgent intervention
by public-sector institutions. Gender-segregated public washrooms need to be
constructed in every district of Karachi with guaranteed supply of clean
running water, soap and toilet paper (and sanitary pads). Three months ago,
Karachi administrator Saif ur Rehman vowed to have 100 public washrooms
constructed in Karachi — half of them for women. There is a need to follow up
on this promise and make sure that it materialises, though 100 toilets are a
drop in the ocean.

If we get enough well-kept public toilets, our society will change rapidly. More
women from the middle and working classes will be able to conduct business
and trade, study, do paid work, and occupy public spaces for leisure. The
public spaces housing these toilets will also be frequented much more than
they are today, hence fortifying women’s right to the city and nurturing an
equitable, gender-sensitive society.

Pemra’s censorship
Usama Khilji Published March 25, 2023  Updated 2 days ago

   

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The writer is director of Bolo Bhi, an advocacy forum for digital rights.
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A REGULATOR that is supposed to be independent continues to

play its biased role of censoring political voices that fall out of
favour with the establishment. Whereas the role of the Pakistan
Electronic Media Regulatory Authority is to regulate media
independently under the Pemra Ordinance 2002 as amended by
the Pemra Amendment Act 2007, what we have seen it do is impose
blanket bans on political personalities as well as social issues.

While the previous targets were Nawaz Sharif, Asif Zardari, Maryam Nawaz
and Manzoor Pashteen among others, the latest target is Imran Khan and the
coverage of his jalsas and speeches.

It is useless getting into what the stated reason is, because the principle of
banning popular civilian political leaders is deeply problematic and reeks of
authoritarian censorship, reminiscent of martial law regimes — much like
during the PTI regime.

This points in one direction: the censorship regime remains intact and
consistent; only the civilian front changes, while the target remains civilian
actors that fall out of favour with the security establishment.

It is not only political actors whose coverage is being censored — social issues
such as a rape incident in Islamabad and terrorism events are also out of
bounds for television as per Pemra’s orders. Such censorship has profound
consequences.

Enforcing censorship on electronic media keeps matters of public concern out

of the reach of audiences who have the right to information as per Article 19-A
of the Constitution. But citizens do not simply forget about an incident or
subject when it is censored on television — they look for alternative sources to
access information.

This reduces the legitimacy of electronic media as citizens look for information
in alternative spaces in the digital realm where enforcing regulation is next to
impossible. Hence it is easy for disinformation to proliferate, and for reporting
without editorial process to become the go-to source.

Citizens do not simply forget about an incident or subject when it is censored

on TV.

In short, censorship fuels disinformation.

The issue of Pemra’s failure in guiding regulation and resorting to blanket

bans on matters of public information is also pressing. If some channels are
failing to protect the identity of a violence survivor, that should not mean that
discussion of the entire matter becomes out of bounds.

There is a critical need to especially report on rape prevention and

punishment, and to focus on information regarding perpetrators of gender-
based violence. We cannot brush issues under the carpet because the regulator
is failing to enforce its guidelines.

Similarly, discussion around incidents of terrorism is another blanket ban

Pemra ordained. Not only does this undermine the right to information but
also information regarding safety.
When there is state failure in reducing incidents of violence and terrorism,
especially in the face of hundreds of terrorists recently released by the state in
secret deals, the public has a right to know how we reached this juncture of
resurgence of terrorism. Further, there are public safety implications on lack
of reporting regarding terrorism incidents.

The question that arises is how independent is Pemra as the regulator of

electronic media? Where does it get its diktat from? Is the body fulfilling its
obligations? Is it upholding the integrity of information in line with
fundamental rights guaranteed by the Constitution, especially press freedom
in Article 19? Should it have the power to get entire channels off air?

It is unacceptable for the government and the state apparatus to use Pemra as
a tool for political censorship. Popular civilian leaders such as Imran Khan,
Nawaz Sharif, Asif Zardari, Altaf Hussain, Mohsin Dawar, Akhtar Mengal and
Mahmood Achakzai are all entitled to the same rights at all times of coverage
because Pakistani citizens support them, vote for them during elections, and
need to hear them in order to hold them accountable.

The recent confessions of ex chief of army staff Qamar Javed Bajwa regarding
the firing and hiring of journalists further shows how media is managed by
those who wield power, rather than independent regulation.

Such uncertainty further impacts the financial situation of media houses

which has been precarious due to dwindling ad revenues, and the
politicisation of government advertisements that form a huge chunk of media
revenues. The military should not have any role in the media, but the reality is
different.

The persecution of journalists has continued after the government changed

last year, with more arrests, harassment, and disappearances of journalists
across Pakistan. In such an environment, it is of little surprise that Pakistan
ranks the lowest amongst countries when it comes to press freedom. There is
true press freedom when journalists are able to report on the facts, quote the
stakeholders involved without consequences, and do their jobs without fearing
for their lives.

Pemra’s censorship follows the general trend of censorship that has been
observed over the past decade. There have been simultaneous efforts to silence
dissent by harassment and persecution of journalists, several attempts to
introduce draconian laws that outlaw criticism of state policies, a narrative of
outlawing criticism of ‘state institutions’, specifically the military and
judiciary, and to crack down on social media activists, and force social media
companies to enforce anti-rights, state-defined standards. The latest police-
state idea of a task force to check ‘anti-army’ content follows the same trend.

Whereas court intervention against unconstitutional actions has been

somewhat helpful, it has not gone to the entire extent required to protect
constitutional rights, and for good reason. Political parties must ensure that
their legislation as well as framing of rules do not exceed constitutional limits.

In trying to prosecute and silence the political opposition, they end up playing
sandbags for anti-democratic forces whose project has been to pollute the
democratic landscape beyond recognition.

We must focus on civilian-led strengthening and protection of institutions that

work within the ambit of the Constitution rather than acting like a quasi-
democracy façade for a fascist dictatorship without rule of law.

At the end of the day, fundamental rights of taxpaying and vote-casting

citizens are supreme, and parliament has to play its role to protect these.

Higher education
Neda Mulji Published March 25, 2023  Updated 2 days ago

   

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The writer is senior manager, professional development at Oxford University
Press, Pakistan.
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ACCORDING to a recent UNDP report, almost 30 per cent of our

total population is in the higher-education age bracket, aged 15-29,
and this percentage will continue to rise. The pressure to deliver is
intense with over 65 million young people ready to be trained for
marketable jobs. Mismanagement is at its peak with funding
roadblocks, lack of skilled teachers and limited resources
hindering innovation and progress.

A radical new wave of disruption is needed for those who wish to learn from
cutting-edge technology, those who wish to keep abreast of global
developments and those who will eventually be the movers and shakers of our
domestic socioeconomic systems.
What does this disruption mean for young people restricted by archaic
policies? One of the biggest challenges faced by higher education in Pakistan is
the gaping divide between skills and content. Students cannot be educated in a
vacuum where the content neither addresses real-life challenges, nor enriches
their experience. Students graduate in overwhelming numbers from our local
colleges and spend years in underpaid jobs that don’t reflect their
qualifications.

The fact is, their qualifications don’t make them market-ready, don’t teach
them innovative skills for entrepreneurship and don’t develop their ability to
learn on the job. Inequities in our education system are often cited as the
culprit; however, even those who manage to go through higher education
mostly end up walking away with a degree that symbolises little more than the
stamp it carries.

A radical new wave of disruption is needed.

Without collaboration with international universities, this scenario may

persist. With their enrichment programmes, strong linkages with the needs of
industry, and growth mindset, international universities have much to offer
us. There was a time when qualified faculty from well-reputed international
universities were seen teaching, conducting research and working closely with
local faculty and students. Gradually, the trend not only faded but
collaborative efforts across borders — including student or faculty exchange
programmes — became few and far between.

Higher education in any country is the mainstay of the economy. A focus on

the state-of-the-art buildings that house our colleges and universities will
show how skewed the priorities are. Beautiful buildings are seen teeming with
life and hope, with young people chatting away. Attend a single class and it
becomes obvious how that sense of life and hope gives way to inertia, with the
same students staring at the teacher with blank faces, passively listening,
distant and dazed.

One of the fundamental differences between school-going children and higher

or adult learners is that the latter must be convinced of the need to learn, must
see real-world meaning in it and must be able to translate it into something
useful for their future. Keeping this in mind when preparing frameworks for
policy may help alleviate some of the challenges faced by our higher education
graduates. Working backwards from their students’ goals, recognising and
supporting their vision of where they want to be in life may be a beneficial
exercise for all higher education faculty.
Those who have dabbled in online education would know the possibilities are
immense. The world is their oyster if students wish to build their skills
independently and have learnt how to navigate the options available online.
This also means many of our students will turn away from local universities as
online degrees become more accessible and may, in fact, become digitally
savvy much faster than if they were to opt for traditional higher education in
Pakistan.

If higher education in Pakistan were to stay relevant, there is an urgent need

to build teacher capacity and overhaul the curriculum to make it more reflec-
tive of skills for the future. Besides tech-fuelled learning, we would need to
take concrete steps to equip students to present their research at conferences,
panel discussions, benefit from mentoring programmes, and provide them
with job placements and career counselling. Apparently, only 2pc of the 247
functional universities in Pakistan provide such opportunities.

The Labour Force Survey for 2020-21 reported that 37pc of our youth aged 15-
29 are neither in education or training, nor in employment. Sadly, that is
21.8m young people who can be productively engaged in both work and
education.

Clearly, there is no dearth of labour nor is the young population averse to

learning or working. The fault lies in our inability to plan, execute and meet
the urgent priorities of our economy, which includes developing skills among
teachers and vocational trainers, without which there can be no hope of
producing a workforce capable of building a nation.

Digital technology & women’s labour

Hadia Majid | Maryam Mustafa Published March 25, 2023  Updated 2 days
ago

   

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ONLY 52 per cent of adult Pakistani women own a mobile phone

and Pakistan has one of the widest mobile gender gaps in the
region. Women are 49pc less likely than men to use mobile
internet, and according to some studies, nearly six in 10 women
face some sort of restrictions in using the internet. Clearly, there is
a large gender digital divide, and it has been receiving increasing
attention in the past few years. But why is this so? Why is it
necessary to bridge the digital divide and what can we achieve on
the back of greater digital inclusion of women?

The attention to gender gap in digital inclusion owes to the pervasiveness of

digital technologies across a multitude of sectors: education, health, labour
and financial markets to name just a few — a trend that has only accelerated
post-Covid. Gaps in digital access, then, create new inequalities, while also
amplifying existing ones. Lacking access to the digital space means reduced
opportunities to network and connect, to learn new skills and hone existing
ones, to branch out and realise new avenues of increased earnings; to obtain
credit, save, and attract customers, domestic and abroad. In fact, the UN in
2016 recognised the internet and access to it as a catalyst for the enjoyment of
human rights, including but not limited to the right to freedom of expression
which is a fundamental right on its own but also an enabler of other rights like
economic, social and educational rights. Indeed, when leveraged correctly,
technology has great potential for economic and social empowerment.

When it comes to the labour market, we know that women fare significantly
worse than men in terms of economic participation and opportunity: a fact
underscored almost yearly through the WEF Global Gender Gap Report which
consistently ranks Pakistan amongst the lowest on this sub-index. There are
several factors at the institutional, societal and individual household levels
that lead to Pakistan’s underperformance vis-à-vis women’s formal labour
force participation levels. A main contributor is the high reproductive burden
combined with mobility restrictions. So is the lack of safe transport and a
hostile public space and workspace that links back to women’s defined roles as
caretakers belonging in the household and not at work. In our cumulative two
decades of gendered research in Pakistan, women from all manner of
backgrounds have repeatedly highlighted both the close monitoring they face
in terms of their mobility beyond the home and the very long hours they spend
on housework as well as child and elderly care. They have also emphasised the
hostility and harassment they face both en route to and at work. All of these
factors severely limit their ability and even desire to work outside the home.
Could digital technology help alleviate these constraints?

Improved digital connectivity will not only allow women to work remotely
but to also gain access to international freelance jobs.
Improved digital connectivity would not only allow women to work remotely
but to also gain access to international freelance jobs. We saw this unfold at a
mass scale during Covid and we continue to see women upskilling themselves
on platforms like Coursera and seeking work from home with international
companies. There are dedicated Facebook groups like Women of Diversity
whose mission is to ‘empower women’ through online workshops and connect
them to remote employers. We find the same amongst low-income, low-
literate women too: using technologies to set up and expand their home
business, as well as an emphasis on their digital upskilling through
community organisations and rights advocacy groups.

We find that women who have access to devices and the internet in Pakistan
leverage the platforms available to them to carve out financial independence,
seek social justice, explore their identities, form collectives to empower each
other, and to have fun (a rare conversation in our context). Technologies like
Facebook, WhatsApp, Twitter, and TikTok allow them to negotiate within and
around social restrictions without openly challenging them and to carve out
more autonomy and agency for themselves — as they have always done. We
find in our work that when women have the motivation, and recognise the
value of digital spaces and platforms, they are able to adopt, learn and
maximise the benefit of these platforms, regardless of literacy or income
levels. The most significant barriers are often those of technology designs. For
example, most women in Pakistan have access to mobile devices as shared
resources. However, most applications like WhatsApp or mobile wallets
assume a ‘one user, one device’ model, raising serious privacy and adoption
barriers for women.

Yet digital technologies are not a panacea, but a complex, nuanced landscape
which requires action on multiple fronts to include women. We have
interviewed some 200 low-literate, low-income women in a variety of
occupations — factory, domestic, and home-based work. We have found a
great deal of reluctance, even an active shunning, of using mobile phones
amongst these working women when they step out of the home. They relayed
that using the phone outside the home would cause problems for them with
their families. In contrast, women who worked from home were much more
active in their use of phones and the internet. In essence then, our work shows
that women face a trade-off between physical and digital mobility, giving up
one space in order to access the other.

This not only limits the type of upskilling that women in different types of
work can do, but also how technologies can be leveraged for interventions.
Relying on designs that assume all working women will have access to phones
and the internet, will exclude often the most vulnerable. It also places much of
the onus on the women themselves both in terms of their safety and in terms
of coming up with innovative ways to increase their earning potential and
capacities. As a society we need to do much more to support and enable our
women to work, normalising women’s use of the internet and online spaces.
Only then will the true potential of the economy be realised.

Procrastination
Aizaz Ahmad Chaudhry Published March 25, 2023  Updated 2 days ago

   

The writer is a former foreign secretary and author of Diplomatic Footprints.

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THERE appears to be a general consensus in Pakistan, across the
political divide, that Gilgit-Baltistan be integrated as a provisional
province. The GB committee set up by prime minister Nawaz Sharif
recommended in March 2017 that GB be accorded a status akin to a
province of Pakistan.

The Supreme Court of Pakistan, in its judgement of January 2019, ordered the

conferral of constitutional status and rights on GB residents at par with other
citizens of Pakistan. The government of prime minister Imran Khan
announced in November 2020 its decision to grant provisional provincial
status to GB.

Yet, the people of GB have not been conferred this status of being de jure
citizens of Pakistan. They have repeatedly expressed, through resolutions of
the GB Assembly, their desire to formally join Pakistan as a province. Pending
integration, they have also demanded internal autonomy.

One might argue that the reason for this procrastination has been because of
possible implications for Pakistan’s stance on the Kashmir dispute. Since the
Kashmir dispute has not been settled either in accordance with the provisions
of the Indian Independence Act of 1947 or the provisions of the UN Security
Council resolutions, GB’s constitutional status remains in limbo.

The people of GB are disappointed that successive Pakistan governments have

focused more on governance and development-related issues, rather than
finding ways to recognise the people of GB as full-fledged citizens of Pakistan.

Was it wise to deny the people of GB their desire all these years?

We must seriously ask ourselves whether denying the people of GB their wish
to join Pakistan has been a wise course of action all these years. A strong legal,
political and strategic argument can be made that further delay on this issue
won’t serve our national interests.

Firstly, several territories within GB did not fall under the suzerainty of the
maharaja of Kashmir and the people of these territories had already decided to
join Pakistan. Gilgit, for instance, formally acceded to Pakistan in November
1947. The government of Pakistan even appointed a political agent there.
Likewise, for some other territories, original accession papers were handed
over to the then president of Pakistan by the wife of Major Brown, who was
commanding the Gilgit Scouts. This was reported in this paper in 2002.
Secondly, integrating GB into Pakistan would have no implications for the
country’s legal position on the Kashmir dispute because the integration would
be provisional and conditional to the final settlement of the Kashmir dispute.
It is akin to the provision inserted in the Pakistan-China Border Agreement of
1963, which provided for the finalisation of the border subject to the
settlement of the Kashmir dispute. This proviso would keep open the option of
AJK and even the Kashmir Valley to join Pakistan if they so determine, and
when circumstances permit.

However, facts on the ground suggest that the prospects of implementing the
UNSC resolutions remain dim because India is not ready to hold the
plebiscite, nor is the world willing to pressure it to implement the UNSC
resolutions. India has also stonewalled bilateral efforts to resolve the Kashmir
dispute. The Modi government has lately embarked on the project of changing
the Muslim majority status of held Kashmir through demographic and
electoral engineering. A wait-and-see approach is not advisable in the face of
these fast-evolving ground realities.

Integrating GB would also effectively blunt the Indian argument that GB’s link
with Pakistan is ambiguous because it finds no mention in the Constitution.

Thirdly, procrastination might constitute a strategic blunder in the context of

the evolving regional geopolitics. GB is the only geographical link we have with
China. There is a convergence of interests between India and a major power
that is currently in competition with China, and this nexus would not mind
disrupting China’s link with Pakistan through GB. A case in point is CPEC.

GB is central to CPEC. We need GB as an integral part of Pakistan to give full

constitutional protection to CPEC investments in GB as well as to attract
international investments into GB, which require sovereign guarantees. Given
the recent rapprochement between Saudi Arabia and Iran, brokered by China,
economic and commercial activity in this region is likely to grow. One should
be ready when these opportunities arise.

All said and done, the moot point is the will of the people of GB, who have
been living side by side with Pakistanis for seven decades without getting their
constitutional rights as citizens of Pakistan. In geopolitics as in national
affairs, time is of the essence. Let there be no doubt that further
procrastination on integration might be our cost to bear.

Physical health of mentally ill

Zafar Mirza Published March 24, 2023 0

The writer is a former SAPM on health, professor of health systems at Shifa Tameer-i-Millat University
and WHO adviser on UHC.

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“Our bodies are gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.” — William Shakespeare

READERS might find it surprising to know that people with mental illness live less long than the general
population. This is the case in every country. According to one study, people with severe mental illness
live up to 25 years less than the general population. Why?

The high mortality rate among people with mental illness is not due to mental illness per se, rather it is
the result of the coexistence or co-morbidity of physical health problems, such as cardiovascular,
respiratory, metabolic and infectious diseases and cancer.

The Lancet, the oldest peer reviewed medical journal, set up a psychiatry commission which, in 2019,
published a “blueprint for protecting physical health in people with mental illness”. Joseph Firth, Najma
Siddiqi et al reviewed global evidence and reported that although for decades the higher prevalence of
physical health issues among the mentally ill was well noted — earlier it was thought that premature
mortality occurs only among people with severe mental illnesses such as schizophrenia (a serious mental
disorder) and bipolar disorders (people with severe mood swings of depression and euphoria) — now
there is evidence that individuals with any kind of mental disorder have a substantially reduced life
expectancy. Indeed, suicide is more common among these people (disproportionately affecting young
people and elderly women in low- and middle-income countries) as around 17 per cent of them die due
to unnatural causes and it contributes to their relatively short lives.

The higher prevalence of physical health issues among the mentally ill have been well noted.

Research over the last two decades, though mostly in high-income countries, has shown that people
with mental illness have up to double the chances of developing cardiometabolic diseases (a group of
common but often preventable conditions including heart attack, stroke, diabetes, insulin resistance and
non-alcoholic fatty liver disease) than those without mental illness. For patients with depression, the risk
of developing cardiac disease, hypertension, stroke, diabetes, metabolic syndrome, or obesity is around
40pc higher than in the general population. Despite many research gaps, higher rates of infectious
diseases like hepatitis B and C, HIV and syphilis are also found among people with mental illness.
Research that followed those with severe mental illness over 10 years in Ethiopia noted individuals dying
prematurely compared with the general population, and half of the deaths were from infectious
diseases.

The reasons for the high prevalence of diseases and co-morbidity in people with mental illness and
especially those among them with severe mental disorders are due to factors related to patients as well
as to the healthcare system. People with mental illness have unhealthier lifestyles compared to the
general population, for obvious reasons — for example, self-neglect, smoking, sedentary behaviour and
poor diet. These people are less able to access adequate healthcare than the general population. Even in
a country like the US, people with severe mental illness are twice as likely as those without mental
disorders to have been denied medical insurance because of pre-existing conditions. In low- and middle-
income countries such as Pakistan, where access to healthcare generally and for the mentally ill in
particular is inadequate, the situation is worse.

Some physical health problems in people with severe mental illness are associated with the use of
medicines for the latter. The commonly observed physical side effects of these medicines include weight
gain, menstrual disturbances, sexual dysfunction, muscle spasms, tremors, rigidity, restlessness,
abnormal involuntary movements of different parts of the body — for instance, the legs and lower jaw
— constipation, dryness of eyes, mouth and skin, blurred vision, slow heart rate, urinary retention,
sedation and more. Management of these side effects poses a therapeutic challenge to these people.

The WHO estimates that more than 80pc of people with mental health conditions, including individuals
experiencing neurological and substance use disorders, are without any form of quality, affordable
mental healthcare.

A mentally ill person, especially one with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder or a major depressive illness, is
most likely to carry a double burden of disease — ie, mental illness and physical illness. But more often
than not, physical illness accompaniments in mentally ill people are ignored. A mentally afflicted person
is himself/herself unable to explain their physical illness under the effect of his/her mental illness.

The physical health of people with severe mental illness is also neglected in policies and research.
People working on mental health are so challenged and occupied with the lack of mental healthcare for
the mentally ill and there is so much to do in this regard that the physical health issues of mentally ill
people remain under the radar.
Every column I write on almost any health issue in Pakistan, I come back again and again to the
importance of primary healthcare as this is where the holistic and integrated delivery of quality health
services must be reliably implemented. Now that, for the first time, mental health services have been
included among the essential health services package for primary healthcare, it is time to provide proper
training to health workers at primary care centres for taking care of mentally ill people including their
physical health. Such trainings should also include how to identify signs of severe mental illness, and
where required, how to counsel family members and where to refer such patients for advanced care of
mental and physical illnesses.

It is heartening to note that attention is now being given to mental health training at the primary
healthcare level. A major initiative has been taken to train general practitioners in this regard. More on
this later.

As I mentioned earlier, most of the research on the physical problems of mentally ill patients, including
those with severe mental illness, is done in high-income countries. Lately though, important work has
been done in South Asia, including Pakistan, where for the first time these issues have been studied in
the wake of Covid-19. More on this next time

Inconvenient truths
Basil Nabi Malik Published March 24, 2023

   

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The writer is a lawyer based in Karachi.
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DISAPPOINTMENT is the word that comes to mind when one

thinks of Pakistan’s current situation. Sheer disappointment. Not
necessarily with the state of our economy, the abysmal security
situation, or even the uncertainty in the air. All these things have
afflicted us so often that they no longer seem unusual.

So, if it isn’t that, then what? To put it bluntly, there seems to be little to no
hope. In Pakistan’s excruciatingly frustrating history, there has always been
something to cling on to, even if bordering on the delusional. If not the
politicians, then one would look towards the judiciary. If not the judiciary,
then even the army. And if not them, then perhaps someone else. But at any
point, it appears, that one or the other could be identified as a possible
solution to the problem. And that allowed us to keep ticking along. Until now.
This time round, however, there is realisation that no one is the solution, and
no one has learnt from our past. In life, we are told from a very young age that
it’s okay to make mistakes so long as we learn from them and don’t repeat
them. However, no one tells you the irony of following such advice in a
country whose functioning is predicated on collective amnesia and blissful
ignorance. Tragically, we are forever held hostage to a merry-go-round that
never stops and is anything but merry.

Many will see the realisation itself as positive, something to take heart from.
After all, it only took us 75 years or so to collectively appreciate that those in
power may simply not be learning from their mistakes. But that is not the
case, unfortunately, because even our epiphanies are selective.

The problem isn’t simply the army, politicians, or the judiciary, and how
they’ve made a hash of things.

The problem isn’t simply the army, the politicians, or the judiciary, and how
they have made a hash of things. They have been able to do this because of our
inability to hold them accountable. We all realise that none of them seems to
have any solutions, and in fact, may simply be adding to our problems. Yet we
do not call them out, in most cases, because we are blinded by our own
prejudices which mould our view of Pakistan’s past.

You can’t learn from history when your history is just a version of the truth
that is convenient to you. If I don’t have it in me to consider all the facts, then
I am not learning from history but rather succumbing to it. And that is where
we stand today.

If I am a PTI supporter, history starts from the year 2018. This is probably
why our friends in the PTI, despite repeated reminders, refused to
acknowledge the army’s role in politics prior to, during, and after the general
elections of 2018. The realisation of how army interference in politics is bad
only dawned on them after they lost their government, and even then, they
considered it ‘unprecedented’ — because the PTI version of history had not
witnessed such interference against their interests before.

Similarly, the PML-N supporter’s version of history starts after the demise of
Gen Ziaul Haq. Even then, this supporter only acknowledges that part of
history which looks at the Sharif leadership kindly, such as its infrastructure
projects and motorways. What the supporter won’t remember is how the
PML-N racked up horrible debt, failed to manage Pakistan’s economy every
time they came to power, piggybacked on the same establishment that they
then abused, and intentionally left an economic minefield for the next
government in the run-up to the 2018 elections to sabotage it and benefit
themselves, at the expense of the country.

The supporter of other PDM members and allies has a memory that starts
from the year 2013 and revolves around the PTI and its unnatural rise to
power. What their version of history lacks is any recognition of how their
government is merely a continuation and extension of everything that they
claimed was wrong with the Khan government. In fact, they are the new
‘selected’. And for some reason, they are ecstatic about it. They actually don’t
want neutrality, they want favour, and that is beyond ironic considering their
allegations against Imran Khan.

Then there are those who support the army’s role in politics. Their version of
history spans most of Pakistan’s existence, not because they are well-read, but
because the army has directly and indirectly ruled Pakistan for most of its life.
According to them, these were glorious periods when nothing could go wrong.
We were economically strong, socially united, and everything was being
managed efficiently and with discipline. Those were the good old times, and
everyone should be thankful to the armed forces.

However, they tend to avoid talk of the Constitution or the armed forces’ oath
to defend and preserve it, nor do they like to discuss Kargil, the loss of
Siachen, or the 1971 civil war. If they do, they blame the civilians for it all.
They don’t recall much about the Hamoodur Rehman Commission report, nor
the excesses that may have been committed in erstwhile East Pakistan. For all
we know, these things may never have even happened.

And that is where we stand today. We are in trouble not because of how badly
we are being led, which cannot be questioned, but because we allow these
persons, institutions and ‘leaders’ to pander to our personal biases and
prejudices and repackage it as our convenient truth.

We may have the intelligence to notice that we are being taken advantage of,
but for the time being at least, we seem content with feigning ignorance. We
are okay with no one in power learning from history or correcting their
mistakes — because if they do, what will become of us? I’m afraid we may have
to check our prejudices and biases, and confront inconvenient truths that
don’t fit our notions of right or wrong. God forbid we ever have to do that.

Language matters
Zubeida Mustafa Published March 24, 2023

   

Zubeida Mustafa
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A STORY that went viral recently was of a little boy whose teacher
marked his face with a black dot. The other children were then
asked to shame him. Where did the child go wrong? He had spoken
in Urdu in a supposedly English-medium school. It was shocking
and I felt the pain the child must have felt when he was so
humiliated. This was no less than a cardinal sin that was
committed against the child, against our national language and
against all those children who were made to participate in this hate
game.
On another occasion, I felt proud of my friend’s daughter who told me the
story of her nine-year-old girl who on returning to Pakistan was admitted to
an ‘English-medium school’. Having been born in the US, she spoke perfect
English with an American accent. Her Urdu was also perfect as at home her
parents always communicated in their native language. The class teacher was
impressed by the child’s English and appointed her as the monitor. The
mother asked her daughter what her duties were in that capacity. “I will have
to inform the teacher if any child speaks in Urdu in school,” she said
innocently. The mother was flabbergasted and immediately withdrew all three
of her children from the school. “I will never send my children to a school that
nurtures such linguistic biases and teaches my children to hate their own
language,” she told me angrily.

Against this backdrop it was a pleasure to attend the Urdu Tadrees [pedagogy]
Conference organised by the Pakistan Tanzeem-i-Asatiza Barai-i-Tadrees-i-
Urdu. One listened to the speakers, each of them highlighting the Urdu
language’s forte and the wealth its literature offered. As one speaker pointed
out, no mention of Urdu literature is complete without a mention of the
inimitable Annie Apa’s Aag ka Darya.

Then I was reminded of my youngest friend, eight-year-old Sitara, from

Kheiro Dero who declares me to be her best friend “in the whole world” (she
said with her arms wide open). When Sitara joined the Urdu-medium school
in her village, Urdu was not music to her ears. She had to struggle with her
lessons because the language was alien to her. The only language she
understood was Sindhi. The teachers, Sindhi speakers themselves, were not
helpful either and dubbed her a slow learner. One day, Sitara rebelled and
refused to go to school. Everyone was angry with her as she had candidly
declared that she didn’t want to study.

A child should begin schooling in her own language.

I understood Sitara’s aversion to school. She was obviously not enjoying her
lessons. Hence I advised her ‘Adhi’ (sister, who manages the Trust which runs
the development project in Kheiro Dero) to teach Sitara in her own language.
Our friendship continued in spite of Sitara’s rebellion against my language. I
continued to shower books on her but they were always Sindhi books
beautifully produced by the Book Group.

Whenever we met, our body language sustained our friendship. Then came the
miracle. Sitara sent me a message. “Please give me some Urdu books too.”
That is not all. A few months later, I received a beautiful letter from Sitara
wishing me a happy birthday in perfect Urdu. And above all, she continued
studying in Sindhi and was way ahead in her studies than other children of her
age.

That is why I believe so firmly that a child should begin schooling in her own
language and should gradually be transitioned to Urdu, which is the language
of wider communication in Pakistan. By virtue of that, Urdu is the national
language. If the principle of mother tongue first is followed, Urdu will emerge
as the winner. The fact is that non-Urdu speakers constitute 93 per cent of
children who enter school. They speak and understand a language other than
Urdu. If handled sensitively, they become Urdu lovers as our experience has
shown.

Teaching a small child in a language she understands offers many advantages.

It gives her emotional security. It enables her to continue thinking critically as
she understands all that she is learning and is not required to memorise. She
enjoys her lessons and can express herself clearly.

Above all, her language acquisition capacity is enhanced. This means she can
learn other languages faster and with ease. Of course, Urdu will come next as
it is the national language. In other words, every child will be a star like my
Sitara.

In this context, Tahir Javed of Pakistan Tanzeem-i-Asatiza Barai-i-Tadrees-i-

Urdu and Farid Panjwani, dean, Aga Khan Institute of Education
Development, can play a positive role by conducting research on when and
how a non-Urdu speaking student can be transitioned to Urdu effectively and
tearlessly.

A major advantage Pakistan has is that all its languages come from the same
root, have a similar syntax and script (with slight variations). Why can’t we
attempt the miracle that transformed Sitara’s life?

Examination crisis
Muhammad Memon Published March 24, 2023

   
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WE inherited our school examination system from the colonial rulers.

After independence, universities were responsible for conducting school
examinations in the country. Under the Sharif Commission 1959, the
government of Pakistan established the Boards of Intermediate &
Secondary Education.

The boards had a broader mandate of organising, regulating, developing and

controlling both intermediate and secondary education in the country. Later,
their mandate was restricted to the conduct of intermediate and secondary
examinations. The boards continued to maintain examination standards and
conducted the SSC and HSSC examination effectively and efficiently. It was
after the 1970s that they started struggling to maintain examination standards
and credibility.

The examination system in Pakistan has suffered from various deficiencies,

including: lack of a proper item bank, the lower order of cognitive skills among
students (rote learning), lack of an examination syllabus including test
specifications, lack of examination reliability and validity, leakage of question
papers, cheating and other unfair practices, lack of accountability of
examination staff, lack of authenticity and accuracy in marking, lack of
transparency in examination results, and lack of research in examination.

There seems to be a disconnect between the ‘purpose of education’ and the

‘purpose of examination’ whichhas had an adverse impact on the quality of
education in Pakistan. Examinations must be ‘fit for purpose’ to help achieve
learning outcomes underlying the curriculum framework.

Quick fixes cannot improve the deteriorating quality of exams.

Recognising the need for improving the examination system, the National
Education Policy 2009 emphasised the consolidation of the existing boards for
their improvement, but that remained mere rhetoric.
While many boards have failed to conduct transparent and quality
examinations in the country in general and Sindh in particular, they also didn’t
maintain examination uniformity and standardisation. Hence, the quality of
exams varied from board to board across the country. The stakeholders also
raised concerns about the deteriorating quality of exams, including
malpractice and corruption, but no serious attempt was made to transform the
school examination system to address these genuine concerns.

Although some boards have transformed themselves to a great extent, the

rest, especially the Sindh boards, are currently passing through an examination
crisis. They should adapt the other boards’ best practices and transform their
examination system through effective integration of technology. In order to
deal with the school examination crisis in Sindh boards, the latter’s controlling
authority recently outsourced the school examination from the current
academic year, which seems to be a ‘quick-fix’ and not a realistic or
sustainable solution. School examination reform is inevitable since the quality
of education to a large extent depends on the quality of examination. Hence,
it is necessary to gradually move away from assessing the lower order of
cognitive skills to a higher order (conceptual, application and analytical skills).

The school examination system, especially in Sindh, requires an intensive and

critical review so that it can regain the confidence and trust of stakeholders,
especially parents and students. The system requires a cohesive policy
direction to improve its quality and credibility. Some policy interventions are
proposed which include: introducing automation in the system, reviewing
students’ cognitive skills, changing the pattern of question papers, improving
teaching and learning processes, conducting fair and transparent
examinations, developing a robust marking scheme, preparing transparent
examination results, and conducting research into examination systems.

Ultimately, out-of-the-box solutions are required, based on the collective

wisdom of stakeholders. There is also a dire need to constitute a task forceto
critically examine the current examination crisis, not only in terms of
academics but also with regard to the credibility of the boards, which is at
stake, and to prepare a roadmap to improve school examinations.
A fully transformed school examination system can contribute to assessing
students’ academic capability and their academic growth, developing healthy
competition amongst them, looking after their well-being, and ensuring social
cohesion. This will also require networking with national and global
examination boards to share with each other the best examination practices
for continuous improvement and external certification for quality assurance.

Thus, more efforts are required to realise the purpose of education which can
only be achieved through a vibrant and powerful school examination system.

The writer is a senior educationist, po

olicing climate change

Ali Tauqeer Sheikh Published March 23, 2023

   

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The writer is an expert on climate change and development.
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ISLAMABAD Police have recently been given horses to patrol the

walking track on Margalla Hills National Park. The Motorway
Police have been given new automobiles and laser guns to monitor
speeding. The police have been provided with the latest technology
for safe cities and digitalising crime investigations, a few bicycles
for patrolling certain parks and motorbikes for female officers to
promote gender equity. All these endeavours are aimed at
improving public safety and service delivery.

Can the police be resourced to improve public safety in Karachi during

recurrent urban floods, bouts of heatwaves in Jacobabad, droughts in Zhob,
air pollution in Lahore, cloud outbursts in Nowshera, or glacial lake outburst
floods in Hunza? Because of the frequent incidence of extreme weather events,
we need to rely on, first and foremost, police and other law-enforcement
agencies (LEAs) as first responders.
Climate change has significantly impacted law enforcement and policing
functions. It has led to the need for enhanced policing capabilities. The police
are increasingly required to perform roles that are distinct from their typical
daily duties when responding to climate-induced disasters. The increasing
temperatures and rainfall trends demand a rethink of approaches to internal
security, with an emphasis on preventive rather than reactive strategies. Can
we consider streamlining these functions, without converting the country into
a police state?

The police department and other LEAs have thus far paid little attention to
their role in climate disasters. There are substantial problems associated with
responses to climate-induced disasters involving other emergency responders,
communities, and other stakeholders who have a role to play. Resilience
policing in Pakistan will need a new approach and a non-colonial mindset to
prepare for and perform duties during climate disasters. Elsewhere in the
world, it is often linked to community-managed policing models, and building
networks within communities prior to disasters.

The police have an increasingly important leadership role in managing

climate-triggered crises.

Recent police engagements during the unfolding climate crises in Pakistan can
be classified in four main categories: a) supporting the local administration in
responding to the increasing frequency of climate disasters such as floods,
heatwaves, droughts, landslides and snowstorms; b) assisting the government
in enforcing environment and climate-related laws by coordinating with the
concerned departments; c) managing changes in the incidence and types of
crimes, due to large-scale climate-induced disasters; and d) responding to
land mafias and criminal groups that cause environmental damage by illegally
exploiting public goods and natural resources such as communal lands,
forests, parks, riverbanks and sand-mining in riverbeds and mining and
stone-crushing in mountains.

The police have several functions in climate disasters and are expected to take
a lead role in ensuring a safe and secure environment. They are responsible for
public safety when extreme weather strikes.

The police cannot match the military’s ability to rapidly mobilise and
undertake high visibility and important missions and operations, but they are
often charged with running evacuations, retrieving people left behind in
floods, facilitating IDPs/climate refugees, and maintaining order in disaster
zones. Officials often rely on the police to facilitate search-and-rescue
operations, manage relief and resettlement operations and maintain public
safety.

An unending chain of disasters in the country has put additional

responsibilities on the LEAs in aid of the civil administration. The police may
not have sufficient resources, equipment or training, but are routinely called
upon to help in climate-induced disasters. Their range of duties may extend
from facilitating food supplies, maintaining law and order in temporary
shelters and undertaking rescue missions in snowstorms, to managing traffic
during extreme weather events.

Police are called upon to assist in crisis management and to address crimes
that occur during or after these events as well as riots and law-and-order
situations resulting from reduced food and medical supplies. They have an
increasingly important leadership role and responsibility in managing climate-
triggered crises.

Environmental crimes are illicit activities that violate national and provincial
laws. The nexus between climate change and crime is redefining the country’s
criminal landscape. In Pakistan, environmental crimes have become one of the
fastest-growing types of organised crime.

They include several pollution-related crimes such as dumping hazardous

waste into the waterways and releasing pollutants into the air, smuggling
ozone-depleting substances, carrying on with wildlife trade, poaching, illegal
logging, deforestation and transboundary trade in timber.

Most of these issues are tackled by the concerned departments but they often
need support from police and other law-enforcement services. How can the
police support the departments’ actions to protect the environment from
criminal activity if they are not sensitised, trained and equipped with SOPs
and the necessary regulations?

The exploitation of public goods by criminal groups causes environmental

harm and adds to vulnerability. In some conflict-affected areas of Pakistan, it
serves as a source of financing for non-state armed groups, and LEAs do not
always have the will or the capacity to investigate and dismantle criminal
networks that involve environmental crimes.

The use of technology is linked to strategy development and organisation-wide

changes within the police department that can help them better prepare for
climate impacts. The starting point is strategy and internal restructuring, not
technology acquisition. Procurement is easy, transformation is hard but
sustainable.

The police department, for example, already has several specialised units. It is
imperative for police to set up a specialised arm on their role in climate threats
and disasters. Establishing internal institutional structures, specialisations,
and promotion criteria, and developing SOPs for various types of policing
functions in disasters, can serve as a precursor to staff capacity-building and
police force sensitisation.

Emergency management services will, of course, need to be equipped with the

appropriate tools. In the absence of local government that is still not in place
in most parts of the country, it will require coordination with the local
administration.

Police functions are in support of civic functions and are best delivered
together with community and volunteer groups. Unending reliance on the
military for emergency services is the sign of an ailing if not failing society.
Law-enforcement institutions need not be disproportionately weak and in
disarray. After all, the police have an important role to play in managing the
human security impacts of climate disasters.

The writer is an expert on climate change and development.

Forging a new compact

Shahab Usto Published March 23, 2023

   

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The writer is a lawyer and an academic.
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GERMAN philosopher Friedrich Hegel has characterised history as “a

march of reason”; Karl Marx called it a “dialectical process”, propelled by
inherent social contradictions; and Joseph Schumpeter saw it as “creative
destruction” that replaces obsolescence with innovation. These
perspectives have left a considerable impact on much of the world, in
particular Western society, politics and economy. Unfortunately, our
state and political grandees have shown little regard for an objective
analysis of history, remaining willfully unmindful of its ominous currents.
No wonder, even as the state has turned politically toxic, economically
crippled and institutionally deranged, they have shown reluctance to
listen to the voice of reason calling for a wide-ranging discourse to forge
a new, workable compact to cure the systemic malaise that gives rise to
recurring sociopolitical crises.
Resultantly, the authorities, law, institutions and even morality are losing
ground to the forces of anarchy. No more are vision, character or performance
the criteria of leadership; instead, tribe-like phalanxes of followers and the
impact of toxic narratives have become the measure of popularity. Hence,
rejecting election results, defying judicial orders, challenging the government’s
writ, and indulging in all kinds of obscenities in the guise of political rhetoric
are the new ‘normal’. The age-old tools of democratic politics — discourse,
civility and compromise — are becoming redundant as rival politicians fight
each other like sworn enemies. If not stopped, the ongoing antagonism may
lead to a situation where conflict-resolving institutions, particularly the
judiciary, will also become ineffectual, leaving the embattled polity and already
comatose economy without political or institutional recourse.

All this raises questions about the future of democracy. Unsurprisingly, the
doomsayers are already out predicting a ‘soft takeover’. But this time, the plan
is reportedly laced with a hard objective — an ‘all-round, relentless cleansing
of the system’. The oracles are, however, silent on the modus operandi and the
expected results of such cleansing in a body politic that has already been
violently tribalised, with followers (in both camps) blindly bonding with their
cultist chiefs, ever ready to take on their rivals. Moreover, the visible rise in
‘anti-establishment’ sentiments could also come in the way of garnering public
support for establishment-sponsored accountability. But if the chips are down,
would the judiciary sanctify an extra-constitutional set-up? And in case the
court is packed via a PCO, would the compliant court sustain the massive
backlash of the bar, civil society, social media and political parties?

A judicially supported ‘reformist’ putsch, too, would also be untenable.

Accountability, no matter how well-meaning, has historically failed to bear
fruit unless a robust legal system is in place to check the excesses of
prosecution. Military dictator Pervez Musharraf tried this mode, but failed
when a ‘collaborative’ judiciary couldn’t stop witch-hunting in the name of
accountability.

The age-old tools of democratic politics are becoming redundant.

But even though an intervention seems unworkable in the given scenario, the
question of how to deal with the continuing systemic failure remains. More so,
given the delay in stitching together a deal with the IMF, and the increasing
belligerence of the political leadership, which is drawing state institutions into
the fray. The answer lies in our own history and that of other struggling
democracies. Historically, the people led by a visionary, sagacious and selfless
leadership have gone back to the drawing board if the existing system
reached a plateau. Our case is no different. Parliament stands relegated to a
sporadic talk shop. The executive remains subjugated to a dreadfully
overbearing establishment (perceived by some to be in cahoots with judicial
elements).

The judiciary, despite receiving post-18th Amendment boons, has failed on

both counts, ie, constitutional enforcement and institutional performance.
Much of the public sector reeks of rank inefficiency and unbounded
corruption. The economy is literally on the ventilator, waiting for the IMF to
resuscitate it. And even then, the political leadership refuses to rise above their
petty personal and party interests, leaving a fragile democracy to fend for
itself or wither away. In these circumstances, the only workable and long-term
option seems to be the election of a new constituent assembly to review the
much-mangled 50-year-old Constitution. The new constituent assembly needs
to focus on at least the following eight areas:

One, remove the age-old civil-military imbalance that has cost us many an
elected government, if not democracy, peace, progress and stability. Two,
introduce an inbuilt constitutional mechanism to eradicate corruption that has
become institutionalised and is gnawing on our economy and moral fabric.
Three, reform the electoral system in order to ensure free and fair elections
and a peaceful transfer of power. Four, revisit the laws governing private
property, land reforms, and distribution of public wealth, so that the common
folk may also receive their due share of national wealth and resources.

Five, dispense with the patently discriminatory and exploitative public policy
and laws that allow public lands — urban and agricultural — to be
monopolised by a select class of powerful elite comprising feudal, corporate,
military, bureaucratic, judicial, media, political and real estate interests, and
depriving millions of landless and homeless citizens, including peasants,
labourers and katchi abadi residents of their rights.

Six, as no society can survive, let alone thrive, without justice and equity, our
legal system being an extension of an obsolete security-fixated colonial order
needs drastic reforms bringing to it more efficiency, agility and insularity.
Particular focus is needed on resetting the rules related to administration,
jurisdiction, appointment and accountability in the higher judiciary.

Seven, although we are a poor, backward state, it is ironic that we have been
involved in virtually every sort of modern warfare — international, regional,
internal, overt, covert, hot, cold, proxy, sectarian, ethnic, etc. Wars have cost us
enormously in terms of human lives and economic losses. It’s time we did
away with wars. Therefore, let matters of war and peace be decided strictly by
parliament.

Finally, Pakistan was meant to be a true federal democracy, therefore, it’s

imperative to further strengthen provincial autonomy — financially,
administratively and politically. Only then will we see light at the end of the
dark tunnel.

The mystery cat

F.S. Aijazuddin Published March 23, 2023

   

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AT times like this, when faith in everything sane and normal and
conventional is upturned by events, one is forced to disbelieve
prose and escape into the reassurance of poetry.

T.S. Eliot was a British poet whose prose read like poetry and whose poetry
read like prose. Whoever has read both can never forget either. His play
Murder in the Cathedral (1935) is a morality play, an allegory in which the
central figure is the Catholic martyr Thomas Becket.

In 1162 AD, Becket was selected by King Henry II to become the Archbishop of
Canterbury. Henry and Becket had been close friends, and when King Henry
appointed Becket, he hoped that his former friend would behave as a loyal
servant of the Crown. However, to Henry’s chagrin, Becket regards his
spiritual office as archbishop as outweighing the king’s temporal authority,
and the two fall out. (Any similarity between a former prime minister and his
benefactor COAS is purely coincidental.)

Eliot uses the device of four tempters to distract Becket. The first recalls the
sybaritic pleasures he shared during his carefree ‘bromance’ with Henry. The
second reminds him of the political power — ‘the punier power’ — he exercised
as Lord Chancellor before becoming archbishop. The third tries to persuade
Becket to ‘stoop to political manoeuvring’ with the nobles against the king.
The fourth tempter offers Becket martyrdom. The last he regards as the most
insidious temptation of all — “the greatest treason: / To do the right deed for
the wrong reason”.

Imran Khan’s ingenuity in avoiding arrest reminds one of Macavity.

Anyone who has been watching the immorality play being performed outside
Zaman Park in Lahore and in the judicial courts in Rawalpindi, Islamabad and
Lahore must have noticed the parallel between Becket’s inexorable steps to
martyrdom and the PTI leader Imran Khan’s dangerous courtship with it.

The Mughal emperor Aurangzeb once described the internecine struggles for
the throne at Delhi as a choice between ‘takht ya takhta’ — the throne or the
stone slab. He had a point. Modern politics in Pakistan has the same scorpion
sting to it.

The efforts made by functionaries of the courts to enforce judicial writ and by
various tentacles of the federal government and Punjab governments have
been thwarted too often and too effectively. Was their heart at variance with
their lathis?

Mr Khan’s ingenuity in avoiding apprehension reminds one of T.S. Eliot’s

poems — the humorous ‘Macavity: The Mystery Cat’.

Its lines read: “There’s no one like Macavity./ He’s broken every human law,
he breaks the laws of gravity./ His powers of levitation would make a fakir
stare/ And when you reach the scene of the crime/ Macavity’s not there.”

Our successors will have good reason to wonder why our current leaders find
it so difficult to reconcile to economic realities — and to each other — at this
fragile time of national insolvency. The British are now — three years after
quitting membership of the European Union — voicing regrets over the ill-
conceived referendum that has left Great Britain an offshore island off
mainland Europe. Within the EU, Britain had a role to play. Outside, it has
only itself to play with.

Will we too in Pakistan be tempted to hold a referendum (under the false

banner of democratic self-expression) on whether our provinces wish to
remain together? Or will we, like other countries which suffer similar levels of
incompetent governance, muddle through, depending on God’s mercy and the
shrinking generosity of our friends?

Regardless of what the PDM government and its myopic Mr Magoo finance
minister may have us believe, the IMF is not our saviour of the first and last
resort. Those with a memory will recall that in 1971, we looked towards the
United States as just that, with disastrous results and a festering
disappointment the pain of which is still felt today.

The holy month of Ramazan is upon is. To the pious, it is a month of self-
abnegation. To the poor, it is yet another of 365 days of unassuaged hunger.
To die of exhaustion in a queue waiting for subsidised atta, as too many have
already done, is to suffer ‘martyrdom’ entirely for the wrong reason.

At times like this, one needs to turn again to poetry for solace. Our politicians
have no time either for poetry or for prose. They prefer to spout slogans that
are inedible.

Two centuries ago, in 1813, the British romantic Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote as
if anticipating our todays: “Power, like a desolating pestilence,/ pollutes
whate’er it touches.” Our politicians may have survived Covid-19. They still
suffer from that desolating pestilence.

And to those who wield lathis, Shelley addressed these words: “and obedience,
bane of all genius, freedom, truth,/ makes slaves of men