Stake Holders at Stake

 Stake Holders at Stake

27th Constitutional Amendment: Reform, Power, and the People at Risk

By Mubasher Mir

With the passage of the Twenty-Seventh Constitutional Amendment by both the Senate and National Assembly, Pakistan has entered a decisive constitutional moment. The government presents the reforms as a path toward greater institutional harmony, national stability and defence modernisation. Yet legal experts, bar councils, provincial parties, and segments of civil society warn that the amendment risks concentrating power, weakening judicial independence, and undermining the federal balance that lies at the heart of Pakistan’s democratic structure.

More importantly — and increasingly voiced across the political spectrum — the real stakeholders of Pakistan are its people, and they are the ones now most at stake. Any constitutional change that reshapes state power must be evaluated primarily through the lens of citizens’ rights, access to justice, and the preservation of democratic accountability.

The amendment revises Article 243 and formally creates the position of Chief of Defence Forces (CDF) — a new, constitutionally empowered office that places command of all three services under the Army Chief. The post of Chairman Joint Chiefs of Staff Committee (CJCSC) is abolished. The government argues that this will unify defence strategy and remove structural duplication.

Additionally, the amendment provides constitutional recognition for the rank of Field Marshal, allowing an officer promoted to this status to retain rank, privileges and uniform for life. Critics view this as a form of lifetime institutional immunity, beyond the reach of meaningful oversight.

The creation of a Federal Constitutional Court (FCC) — tasked with constitutional interpretation, federal-provincial disputes, and inter-governmental conflicts — transfers significant jurisdiction from the Supreme Court. Proponents frame it as a modernisation step; opponents view it as a structural curtailment of the apex court’s historic role as guardian of the Constitution and protector of fundamental rights.

Judges may now be transferred between High Courts by the Judicial Commission. If a judge declines transfer, the refusal may be treated as retirement. Critics fear this may pressure judges and compromise independence by enabling indirect control over judicial careers.

Revisions to financial and administrative frameworks potentially dilute provincial autonomy — a reversal of gains secured through the 18th Amendment. Provincial parties in Sindh in particular describe the 27th Amendment as an attack on federal balance and provincial self-governance.

The government maintains the reforms were long overdue. Officials argue that:

A unified defence structure will strengthen coordination and national security.

A specialised constitutional court will reduce backlog and expedite complex federal cases.

Revised federal arrangements will simplify governance and create clarity.

In theory, these objectives align with global best practices — but only when checks and balances remain intact.

A central critique is that the amendment risks institutionalising impunity.

Democracy requires that no individual or institution stand above accountability. Islam reinforces this principle through the concept of hisab — all authority is accountable, ultimately before God.

Creating lifetime privileges for top military leaders contradicts both democratic and Islamic foundations. Legal scholars warn that constitutionalising such immunity shifts Pakistan toward a model where state power may operate beyond scrutiny.

By diverting constitutional matters from the Supreme Court to the new FCC, the amendment weakens the judiciary’s highest platform for interpreting rights, reviewing executive action, and checking excesses of power.

If judicial appointments or transfers appear influenced by political or executive interests, the entire justice system risks being compromised.

Provincial parties and bar councils from Sindh argue the Amendment undermines the federal compact. They fear that increased centralisation — especially over judicial and fiscal domains — may erode provincial rights enshrined under the 18th Amendment. This could widen existing trust deficits between the federation and smaller provinces.

Democracy is sustained not merely by elections but by the distribution of authority, the independence of institutions and the accountability of office-holders. Any shift that over-weights one institution at the expense of others risks long-term destabilisation.

This crucial observation captures the core issue: the real stakeholders are not political parties, military institutions, or judicial forums — they are the people of Pakistan.

Every constitutional amendment must ultimately answer one question:

Does it protect the rights, dignity, and justice of ordinary citizens?

Today, many fear that this Amendment places those very people — the final custodians of Pakistan's sovereignty — at risk in the following ways:

If the Supreme Court’s jurisdiction is curtailed, citizens may lose the strongest platform for constitutional protection.

The public depends on a powerful and independent Supreme Court to defend fundamental rights, overturn injustices, and restrain unlawful authority.

History demonstrates that concentrated power often sidelines public interest. When institutions lose balance, grievances rise, and people feel powerless.

For a democracy like Pakistan — diverse, federal, and complex — concentration of power is particularly dangerous.

When provinces perceive encroachment from the Centre, political tensions filter down to communities.

Public trust is already fragile. Any move that sidelines provincial voices risks widening divisions, inflaming protests and inviting instability.

People’s safety and dignity rely on institutions being accountable.

If top offices become insulated from legal review, citizens may rightly fear that the rule of law could apply unequally — one standard for the powerful, another for the powerless.

Thus, while the Amendment’s architects argue it enhances stability, its real test lies in whether the people feel safer, more empowered, and more confident in state institutions. At present, many do not.

Pakistan now stands at an inflection point. The Amendment could, in an ideal setting, strengthen the architecture of governance — but only if implemented with rigorous transparency, oversight mechanisms, and unconditional respect for judicial independence and provincial autonomy.

Alternatively, if implemented without restraint, it could accelerate institutional imbalance, deepen public alienation and weaken the social contract between state and citizen.

To protect the democratic and Islamic principles of accountability — and to ensure the people remain at the centre of national policy — the following steps are essential:

Appointments, transfers and tenure protections must be insulated from executive or military influence.

The CDF and defence structures must remain accountable to Parliament — the representative body of the people.

The federation cannot thrive without strong and respected provincial institutions. The spirit of the 18th Amendment must be upheld.

Public trust requires clarity. Amendments, appointments and strategic decisions must be transparent, subject to review, and open to public scrutiny.

As the real stakeholders, the people of Pakistan deserve a voice. National dialogue — including bar councils, academic experts, provincial leadership, and civil society — must be institutionalised.

The 27th Amendment may be framed by the government as a step toward institutional harmony, but its implications stretch far deeper. By restructuring defence hierarchy, altering judicial jurisdiction, and modifying federal autonomy, the Amendment touches the core of Pakistan’s constitutional identity.

Islam teaches that all authority is accountable before God. Democracy insists all authority is accountable before the people.

Lifetime immunity and concentrated power violate both.

At this historical moment, it is the people of Pakistan who stand as the true custodians of the Constitution. Their rights, security and justice must remain supreme. Any reform that weakens their position — whether through judicial curtailment, provincial disempowerment or unchecked executive authority — risks endangering the very foundations of the state.

For Pakistan to move forward with stability, dignity and democratic strength, the will, welfare and consent of the people must remain the central guiding principle. Their stake cannot be compromised; their voice cannot be ignored. Only then can constitutional reform truly serve the nation rather than destabilise it.

Privatization of Public Entities: A Sign of Failure or Strategic Adaptation?

 Privatization of Public Entities: A Sign of Failure or Strategic Adaptation?

Mubasher Mir

Privatization—the transfer of ownership or control of public enterprises from the state to private hands—has long been one of the most contested economic reforms in developing countries. Advocates hail it as a tool for efficiency, investment, and fiscal relief; critics condemn it as a confession of failure, where governments admit they can no longer manage their own institutions. In Pakistan’s case, the truth lies somewhere in between: privatization reflects both systemic governance weaknesses and a pragmatic adaptation to fiscal and managerial realities.

From Nationalization to Privatization: A Historical Pendulum

Pakistan’s economic history reads like a pendulum swing between state control and market liberalization. In the 1970s, under Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto’s socialist vision, sweeping nationalization brought banks, industries, and utilities under state ownership. By the early 1980s, more than 200 state-owned enterprises (SOEs) dominated the economy. The intent was social equity, but inefficiency, overstaffing, and political interference soon followed.

By the early 1990s, the tide turned. Facing growing fiscal deficits and pressure from international lenders, Pakistan launched its first major privatization program. The Privatisation Commission of Pakistan (established in 1991) oversaw 132 transactions by 2003, generating roughly Rs 395 billion in proceeds. Yet, as Dawn later noted, few of these divestments produced sustainable improvements. Many privatized entities remained loss-making or were resold amid corruption controversies.

A 2022 study found that Pakistan’s 88 commercially operating SOEs still posted cumulative losses exceeding Rs 730 billion—a staggering drag on the national budget. Even after three decades of privatization, the government continues to pour subsidies into inefficient enterprises. This persistent pattern raises a hard question: has privatization solved the problem, or merely postponed reform?

The Current Drive: A Fiscal Imperative

Privatization has re-entered Pakistan’s economic agenda not as a bold policy innovation, but as a necessity. The country’s fiscal crisis—ballooning debt, IMF conditions, and circular debt in the energy sector—has revived interest in divesting state-owned assets.

In the 2025-26 federal budget, the government projected privatization proceeds of Rs 86.5 billion, nearly ten times higher than the previous year’s estimate of Rs 8 billion. Officials have identified over 50 SOEs slated for sale within the next three to four years, including Pakistan International Airlines (PIA), electricity distribution companies (DISCOs), and large industrial units. Yet, IMF data shows that no major privatization proceeds have materialized since 2019-20, underscoring persistent bottlenecks in execution and political resistance.

The argument for privatization today is largely fiscal: to cut losses, reduce subsidies, and attract foreign investment. According to the Centreline Economic Review, privatizing PIA alone could save Rs 800 billion in debt and eliminate annual subsidies of nearly Rs 300 billion. Similarly, reforming or selling power distribution companies could save an estimated Rs 500 billion annually by cutting theft and inefficiency.

These numbers are compelling. But privatization is not just an economic exercise—it is a political and governance test of the state’s ability to reform responsibly.

The Case for Privatization: Strategic Adaptation and Efficiency Gains

Privatization, when executed under transparent and competitive conditions, can be a strategic adaptation rather than an admission of defeat. It allows governments to focus on core responsibilities—security, justice, education, and infrastructure—while letting market-driven actors manage commercial risks.

 Fiscal Relief and Focus on Core Governance

Pakistan’s SOEs are a massive fiscal liability. Between 2018 and 2023, their cumulative annual losses averaged over Rs 500 billion, while government bailouts and guarantees for these entities further strained public finances. Divesting such enterprises could release fiscal space for health, education, and infrastructure.

The idea isn’t to shrink the state’s moral responsibility but to make it more effective by focusing on governance rather than business. As a 2024 Brookings report observed globally, “privatization succeeds when it enables the state to govern better, not merely to govern less.”

Evidence of Improved Efficiency

Some Pakistani cases demonstrate genuine efficiency gains. The privatization of Karachi Electric (K-Electric), once a chronically loss-making power utility, is a prime example. After privatization, its transmission and distribution losses dropped from 34% to 15%, tax payments increased, and service reliability improved. Despite controversies, the operational turnaround illustrates that private ownership can drive reform—provided regulation is sound.

Similarly, the telecom sector, once dominated by state monopoly PTCL, witnessed explosive growth after liberalization and partial privatization. Mobile penetration surged from under 3 million users in 2001 to over 190 million by 2025. In this sense, privatization catalyzed innovation and accessibility rather than decline.

 Attracting Private Investment

Pakistan’s private sector now accounts for over 80% of total investment in telecommunications, banking, and power. The privatization of banks in the 1990s, including Allied Bank and United Bank Limited, not only reduced fiscal exposure but transformed the financial sector into a more competitive and profitable industry.

When properly managed, privatization is less about giving up control and more about leveraging private capital and expertise for national development.

The Other Side: Privatization as a Confession of Inability

However, Pakistan’s record also offers abundant evidence that privatization often reflects government incapacity rather than strategic evolution.

Weak Governance and Transparency Deficits

A 2002 parliamentary inquiry revealed that nearly Rs 80 billion in privatization proceeds were untraceable, and that several sectors—oil, cement, sugar, and automobiles—had formed private cartels after privatization. Instead of creating competition, ownership simply shifted from public monopolies to private oligarchies.

The Privatisation Commission itself has been criticized for political interference, opaque valuation processes, and inconsistent policy direction. According to a 2025 SouthAsia report, “privatization in Pakistan remains hostage to politics rather than economics,” often stalled by judicial stays, vested interests, and bureaucratic inertia.

 Selling the Sick Without Reform

In many cases, loss-making SOEs are sold off without prior restructuring—effectively transferring the problem rather than solving it. The privatization of Pakistan Steel Mills (PSM) is instructive. Instead of revitalization, partial privatization failed to deliver promised governance reforms or debt retirement. Workers were retrenched, yet production never recovered. Such outcomes reinforce the perception that privatization serves as a shortcut to avoid administrative responsibility.

 Weak Regulation and Consumer Impact

Where the state retreats, regulation must step in—but in Pakistan, regulators often lack independence or enforcement capacity. The Competition Commission of Pakistan (CCP) struggles to curb collusion among powerful groups, while the SECP, FBR, and SBP face resource and credibility challenges.

The result is rising consumer vulnerability. Whether it’s electricity tariffs, banking charges, or telecom fees, privatized sectors frequently pass inefficiencies and profits onto consumers. In effect, citizens lose twice: as taxpayers funding bailouts, and as consumers facing higher prices.

Political Capture and Conflict of Interest

Privatization has at times blurred the line between policy and patronage. Political influence in appointments, insider bidding, and post-sale benefits for politically connected business groups have marred public trust. Rather than merit-based competition, privatization has too often rewarded proximity to power.

Structural ProblemPrivatization cannot be isolated from Pakistan’s broader governance deficits. Weak institutions—such as the SECP, SBP, and FBR—struggle with enforcement, coordination, and data integrity. Political instability disrupts continuity; every new government revises priorities, halting ongoing transactions.

Moreover, privatization has not always fostered market competition. Instead, it has contributed to the creation of cartels—in sugar, cement, and energy—where a handful of firms dictate prices. The oil cartel of 10 companies, sugar cartel of 24, and cement cartel of 10, identified in early inquiries, exemplify this paradox: private ownership without regulation simply replaced public inefficiency with private exploitation.

The consumer’s position has weakened further as regulatory grip loosened. State oversight diminished while political interference persisted. For ordinary citizens, privatization has often meant higher costs, declining service quality, and vanishing accountability.

A Global Comparison: When Governments Succeed

Interestingly, while Pakistan divests, several advanced economies are re-expanding public ownership. Countries such as Norway, Singapore, and China have strengthened state enterprises with corporate-style governance rather than privatization. Their models emphasize autonomy, merit-based management, and strict accountability—proving that state ownership need not mean inefficiency.

The lesson is clear: the problem lies not in ownership itself, but in governance. A well-governed public enterprise can outperform a poorly regulated private one. Conversely, a weak state cannot regulate even the best-intentioned privatization.

Conclusion: Between Retreat and Reform

In Pakistan’s case, privatization has been both a mirror and a mechanism—a mirror reflecting state weakness, and a mechanism attempting fiscal repair. It reveals a government that often struggles to manage what it owns, yet aspires to modernize through private partnership.

Where privatization has succeeded—telecoms, banking, and K-Electric—it has done so under clear regulation, investment incentives, and public accountability. Where it has failed—steel, airlines, utilities—it has been due to political interference, opacity, and lack of preparatory reform.

Thus, privatization in Pakistan is not inherently a declaration of failure; it becomes one only when mismanaged. The challenge is not whether to privatize, but how—with transparency, regulatory strength, and social safeguards.

If these elements remain absent, privatization will continue to symbolize retreat from responsibility. But if pursued with reformist discipline, it can evolve into a strategic adaptation—an honest recalibration of state and market roles in a country still searching for balance between growth and governance.