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Samuel Rizk
I JOINED UNDP Pakistan one year ago, and celebrating Aug 14 was one of my first activities. Dressed in green and white with flags all around, colleagues chanted “Pakistan Zindabad”, a message I heard all around the country as I made my way from Karachi and Lahore, to Quetta and Peshawar, to upper Chitral, Hunza and Gilgit. From glaciers to shorelines, and everything in-between, Pakistan is a proud nation, blessed with its beautiful geography, but mostly with its people.
Pakistan at 77 is also complicated. Still recovering from Covid 19 and a devastating 2022 flood, it is critically vulnerable to climate change, has survived a macroeconomic cliff-hanger in 2023 that is slowly showing signs of abatement, and is facing debt and security challenges that leave people and authorities alike on edge. Lingering in the background are persistent reform questions which, if resolved, will fix the fundamental governance architecture that steadies the country on an inclusive, sustainable development path.
Data reveals this complicated storyline with more nuance. With six years remaining to realise the Sustainable Development Goals, and $53 billion required to do so, alarm bells are ringing with 40 per cent poverty, gaping gender disparities, with Pakistan projected to achieve only 35 out of 169 development targets. Pakistan at 77 is a young country, literally and metaphorically, with 60pc of a rapidly growing population under the age of 30, but with nearly 22 million children out of school and a mere 46pc literacy rate among women and girls.
After decades in upward trajectory in the Human Development Index (measuring health, education and income), Pakistan has fallen from medium to low human development in the 2024 UNDP Human Development Report, with Afghanistan being the only other South Asian nation in this category.
Three areas stand out as particularly promising.
Admittedly, Pakistan is greater than the sum of its statistics, a country with substantial ambition and potential, appearing dormant at times, and masking underlying factors of resilience and connectivity. Among many critical development priorities, three areas stand out as particularly promising:
The first centres around people. Investing in Pakistan’s human capital is an investment in its present and future. At the dawn of the republic, Pakistan’s founding father, Mohammad Ali Jinnah, stated: “...if we want to make this great state of Pakistan happy and prosperous, we should wholly and solely concentrate on the well-being of the people, and especially of the masses and the poor”. Pakistan’s GDP could gain $251bn by 2025 if women are as equally connected to the economy as men. And, away from seeing a youth bulge as a security or poverty risk, domestic investment and productivity can be turbocharged with youth entrepreneurs at the centre, skilled not only for their individual benefit, but as future business leaders. Connecting formal, technical and vocational training to future-ready jobs guarantees a significant return on investment, especially when anticipating a more digitised future of work in Pakistan and globally.
The second area must be readying Pakistan for an economy that is as sustainable as it is resilient in the face of inevitable storms. While Pakistan’s climate adaptation is no longer a choice, identifying more ambitious mitigation targets is a global obligation that Pakistan must undertake. With 40m living without electricity, a just, equitable transition to a green(er) economy powered by cleaner, less carbon-dependant energy is possible in a country endowed with abundant natural resources, and a vibrant private sector committed to renewable, innovative solutions.
The third area foresees Pakistan’s voice in a global context, where multilateralism and interdependence have given way to gridlock, polarisation, protectionism, and uncertainty — concerns tabled for the United Nations Summit for the Future in September.
Prosperity for Pakistan will be strengthened by a country fully present and active on the global scene, committed to fundamental human rights and broad civic engagement, aligned with climate targets, fortified by strong trade — measures that start at home and resonate beyond borders. With critical socioeconomic and institutional reforms already underway, staying the course will project Pakistan as an attractive regional and global connectivity hub.
Pakistan at 77 is a complex development mosaic that I’ve come to learn and appreciate deeply over the past year. We will accompany our national partners and the broader development community along this journey, determined to leave no one behind, resolved to see a Pakistan that is as equitable and inclusive as it is peaceful and prosperous.
The writer is the resident representative of UNDP in Pakistan.
Published in Dawn, August 14th, 2024
Rafia Zakaria
TODAY is Independence Day. On the back of Arshad Nadeem’s victory in the Olympics this one appears to be a bit less grim than the ones immediately preceding it. As many commentators have opined at length, the victory of an underdog for an underdog nation points to possibilities and in doing so charges the engine of hope. And yet, while the underdog’s story is the material that will fuel the dreams of many millions, a moment must also be spent on reflecting on the world into which we are bringing future underdogs.
Aug 12 marked the annual UN commemoration of International Youth Day. As the world hurtles into ever greater paroxysms of chaos and turmoil, it is becoming increasingly difficult to take these regular commemorations seriously. In this case, however, in a country made up mostly of youth, taking a moment to consider the sort of world into which we are bringing even more young ones seems like a worthwhile use of time.
It is not news to anyone that Pakistan is experiencing what is euphemistically referred to as the ‘youth bulge’, an unusually large youth cohort — in Pakistan’s over 60 per cent of the population is under the age of 30, and around 30pc in the 15- to 29-years bracket.
The problem, of course, is that when this topic or these figures are offered up, too many people succumb to the fallacy that more is always good. Instead of understanding that having a large population of youngsters virtually guarantees that there will be too few resources to give these young people a decent existence — be they educational opportunities, health facilities, employment or any of the basics of life — these people think that the ‘bigger’ we are in terms of population the greater we will be in terms of might.
Evidence of this lies in what people do, or rather what people do not do. Despite all sorts of campaigns since Pakistan’s inception, the fertility rate in the country is around 3.5, which is the highest in South Asia (not counting Afghanistan which is also a part of Saarc). The ‘youth bulge’ is a topic of concern, so much so that it often figures in the civil service examinations that many of our youth try to pass in the hope of a better future. The story there is dismal; the vast majority will not pass the exam and will be relegated to the grim fate of searching for jobs that are simply not there. According to the Pakistan Economic Survey 2023-2024, the age group between 15-24 years shows the highest unemployment rate in the country. Not only does this create severe and long-lasting economic impacts for the country, it also has a significant effect on the mental health of an entire generation.
Many young people came of age during the lockdowns of Covid-19 that created a general feeling of uncertainty regarding what the world holds for our youth. The pandemic passed on its longer-term effects in the form of inflation, a constricted job market and drying up opportunities to the youth, many of whom wish to emigrate to escape this environment of negativity. It is one thing to encourage the young population to have hope and to look at the victory of an Olympian as an example of being able to persevere against all odds, and it is quite another to hope for a better trajectory for them when very few policies are being implemented that guarantee a happier future.
In addition to these measures, the social and cultural environment of Pakistani society must be transformed and be made more hospitable for young people. Social media has made the lives of the very wealthy and famous accessible to even the poorest individual. Research has shown that apps like Instagram create an environment of constant comparison where young people report high levels of anxiety and depression because they feel pressured to match the consumption levels and lifestyle of wealthier people.
While a lot is said in the media about this, very little is done to help young people manage the mental health consequences of the new world. It is not enough to simply tell young people to put down their phones or to stop using them. This may make sense to older people who did not grow up in an environment where they were in constant possession of their phones, but is less likely to work for those who see it as an important navigation device for their entire lives.
Prevailing against the odds is a good thing and all examples of doing so are worthy ones to hold up before the young generation. However, it is incumbent upon the older adults in the country — the grown-ups so to speak — to also reduce the obstacles and odds that young people will have to face. This begins with implementing workable programmes to stop population growth so that we are not stacking the deck against those who are already living.
Secondly, efforts need to be made by the government to develop trainee and internship programmes so that those who emerge from educational institutions do not search aimlessly for jobs that are simply not there.
Finally, it is important for people to understand the particular mental and emotional stresses associated with inhabiting a virtual world that is both necessary for social survival and cruel in terms of its ability to eviscerate the self-confidence of those who have not yet grown to adulthood. It is always fantastic and laudable when the underdog wins, but at some point, it is also necessary to aim to be the favourite in a competition. Favourites, after all, tend to win far more often.
The writer is an attorney teaching constitutional law and political philosophy.
rafia.zakaria@gmail.com
Published in Dawn, August 14th, 2024
By Mahir Ali
A SINGULAR athletic triumph in Paris triggered spontaneous jubilation in the run-up to Independence Day in a nation that might otherwise have wondered what was worth celebrating 77 years after its birth.
Success, as they say, has many fathers, and Arshad Nadeem’s remarkable individual achievement predictably spurred a flurry of efforts to scrape off a bit of glitter from Pakistan’s first Olympic gold medal in 40 years — and to shower him with the kind of institutional support that was largely absent during his lonely journey to the top.
By Monday, though, the focus of national attention had shifted to another first: an ISPR press release stated that retired Lt-Gen Faiz Hameed was in military custody. He faces a court martial on charges that cover both his tenure as spy chief and its aftermath as well as activities that followed his early retirement in November 2022.
No ISI chief has previously faced this kind of comeuppance, and beyond the terse ISPR acknowledgement that something unprecedented is going down, it’s unclear what the future might hold in terms of accountability for the ‘guardians’. But what exactly is being guarded beyond a thoroughly hollowed-out polity and an economy that periodically prays to the IMF for deliverance?
The proceedings against Hameed are ostensibly based on the Top City raid in 2017 and its allegedly corrupt consequences. Borderline criminal conduct by housing societies has been the norm for decades, and their relations with provincial and national power brokers are among the symptoms of Pakistan’s lifelong malaise.
Much of the commentary following his incarceration has, however, noted his far wider political role before, during and after Imran Khan’s incumbency as prime minister. Of course, previous spy chiefs — beginning with Hamid Gul — have also been complicit in advancing Imran Khan’s political career. And, before him, that of Nawaz Sharif — which the PML-N would naturally be reluctant to acknowledge.
On the seventh anniversary of independence 70 years ago, The Pakistan Times wondered whether the Muslim League, after a resounding electoral defeat in East Bengal, could be purged of “elements whose bovine stupidity restricts their activity to a continuous search for new pastures”. Four years later, it felt obliged to call out political players “cursed with unlimited greed and gifted with limited ability”.
That description pretty much still applies to both the political and military spheres. Military rule, directly or by default, has been the disastrous norm for too long. The way out towards a demonstratively democratic dispensation remains to be determined more than half a century after the first national elections that split the nation following the massacre to thwart such an outcome after it was too late.
Perhaps the biggest tragedy in recent decades has been the determination to repeat the kind of follies that blighted the past. The state’s ridiculous reaction to the Baloch Yakjehti Committee’s planned protest in Gwadar is a case in point. The role of Baloch women in protests against the enforced disappearances of their husbands, brothers and sons is a tremendous achievement, but it’s far from clear whether the efforts led by the amazingly effective Dr Mahrang Baloch will bear fruit. Who can seriously question the logic of Balochistan’s abundant natural resources primarily benefiting the province’s population? It might take a revolution, though, for that scenario to transpire.
There was a student-worker revolt in 1968-69, that rat-tled the established order. But the events that followed effectively put democracy on the back-burner, and it has never completely recovered. The present scenario suggests that it never will unless the depressing status quo is superseded by Bangladesh-style resistance — spearheaded not by the clueless PTI, but by rights-based movements, which are, unfortunately, anathema to the powers that be. These are the kind of movements that the established order cannot countenance, precisely because they militate against its repetitive absurdities.
The arguably justified targeting of an out-of-control former spy chief might be welcome, but it offers no guarantee that Faiz Hameed’s attitude will not resurface. Any rejoicing on this account would surely be premature. The prospect of civilian supremacy remains a distant dream after all these years.
But while the future is unwritten, one can draw considerable comfort from the attitudes of the mothers of Arshad Nadeem and India’s Neeraj Chopra, both of whom claimed their offspring’s friendly rival as an equally worthy son. Reports suggest the social media response was largely positive. That is something both Pakistan and India should be celebrating this week — but without losing sight of the various ailments that blight both nations in different ways.
mahir.dawn@gmail.com
Published in Dawn, August 14th, 2024
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