By S.M. Inam
Every government, confronted with the daily evidence of hardship on the streets, insists that it has things under control and that the long-promised turn towards development has finally arrived. Pakistan’s current leadership is no different. Prime minister Shehbaz Sharif now argues that the country has emerged from economic crisis, that growth is returning, governance will be strengthened through institutional reform, and a young population will be transformed from a burden into a productive national asset. It is a confident narrative, delivered at a moment when many Pakistanis are struggling to reconcile official optimism with their own lived experience. Speaking at the launch of the National Regulatory Reforms, the prime minister presented his government’s agenda as a long-overdue correction.
For decades, he said, businesses and ordinary citizens alike had been suffocated by convoluted laws, redundant regulations and an exhausting maze of procedures. The new regulatory framework, he claimed, represented a quantum leap forward, promising to untangle these constraints and unlock economic potential. When his administration took office, he reminded his audience, Pakistan’s economy was in free fall: interest rates were paralyzing activity, inflation was rampant, investment had evaporated and bankruptcy loomed. Through persistence, teamwork and tireless effort, he argued, the country had been pulled back from the brink. Such claims are not unusual in politics. What gives them force, or robs them of it, is whether they resonate beyond conference halls and press briefings.
Here, the disconnect is stark. Even as the government speaks of recovery, the International Monetary Fund reports that poverty has increased and now affects more than a quarter of the population. The IMF’s call for closer monitoring of poverty reduction efforts is a pointed reminder that macroeconomic stabilization has not eased the daily struggle of millions. Lower deficits and steadier indicators may reassure creditors, but they offer little comfort to households grappling with rising costs and stagnant incomes. The finance minister, Muhammad Aurangzeb, has sought to reinforce the government’s message with his own assurances. There will be no mini-budget, he says, revenue gaps will be bridged through better compliance and governance, and falling interest rates demonstrate progress.
The policy rate has dropped sharply, from 24% to 11%, and inflation, he predicts, will soon fall into single digits. Addressing business leaders, he has also struck a populist chord, arguing that if entrepreneurs who enter parliament must declare their assets, bureaucrats should be subject to the same scrutiny. These statements are not without substance. Lower interest rates do ease pressure on borrowers, and regulatory reform, if genuinely implemented, could improve the business climate. Yet both the prime minister and his finance minister know precisely where relief has and has not been felt. For those already cushioned by wealth, connections or state power, stability brings tangible benefits. For everyone else, the crisis has merely changed shape. Food, fuel and utilities continue to consume an ever larger share of household income, and the promise of future growth does little to ease present anxiety.
At the heart of this imbalance lies a familiar problem: power without accountability. Pakistan’s bureaucracy, deeply embedded within the broader elite, remains one of the most influential actors in the system. No government can function without it, and few are willing or able to challenge it. Untethered from meaningful oversight, it bends rules, delays decisions and protects its own interests, often at the expense of efficiency and fairness. This pattern transcends individual administrations. Until it is confronted directly, talk of good governance will remain aspirational rather than transformative. Investment offers another revealing lens. The government has worked hard to court foreign capital, and announcements of interest and intent have flowed freely. Yet concrete progress remains limited.
Potential investors are well aware of Pakistan’s structural constraints: inconsistent policy, legal uncertainty, energy shortages and an unpredictable regulatory environment. Friendly states can extend support, but only up to a point. Beyond that, confidence depends on reforms that go deeper than slogans, reforms that successive governments have promised and postponed in equal measure. Hovering over the entire economic debate is the long shadow of the IMF. For nearly seven decades, Pakistan has returned repeatedly to the fund, seeking rescue packages that come with conditions framed as pathways to stability. In theory, these programs are meant to restore balance and discipline. In practice, they have entrenched a cycle of dependence, narrowing policy space and placing the burden of adjustment disproportionately on those least able to bear it.
(The writer is a former government officer and a senior analyst on national and international affairs, can be reached at inam@metro-morning.com)
