By Uzma Ehtasham
Maryam Nawaz’s fiery intervention in Faisalabad, at the launch of an electric bus service, was not the usual round of ribbon-cutting rhetoric. It was, rather, a declaration of political intent. Standing before a crowd that had gathered to witness the state’s promise of modernization, she seized the moment to deliver a pointed message. “I do not need anyone’s permission to give the people of Punjab their due,” she said, her voice sharpened with defiance. It was both a defence of her government’s authority and a warning to those who question Punjab’s right to marshal its resources, its water, and its spending priorities as it sees fit. Her words were directed less at the people of Punjab and more at her coalition partners. For decades, Punjab has occupied an uncomfortable role in Pakistan’s federation – the “big brother”, the largest and most resource-rich province, and the one most often blamed when the country’s balance of power feels skewed.
Its wealth, its bureaucracy and its share of resources have long been resented. Yet Punjab has also carried the burden of sacrifice, feeding the country through its fertile plains, sending its sons disproportionately to the armed forces, and subsidizing smaller provinces through transfers. That sacrifice has rarely been acknowledged. Instead, it is Punjab that is portrayed as overbearing, as the province that must be kept in check. Last week, those old grievances resurfaced when senior figures from the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP), among them Sharjeel Memon, attacked the Punjab government with unusual force. Maryam’s reply was sharp, even caustic. She turned the accusation back on the PPP, pointing to its own long record in Sindh: a province mired in corruption, where infrastructure crumbles year after year and poverty remains stubbornly entrenched despite repeated electoral victories.
Her rebuttal carried more than a touch of political theatre, but it also reflected a deeper frustration – that Punjab is always expected to apologize for its existence, even as it props up the federation. The spat has revealed the cracks in Pakistan’s ruling coalition. After the February elections, the PPP willingly joined hands with the PML-N, secured ministries, extracted funds under the National Finance Commission award, and enjoyed the privileges of power. Yet its leadership has not stopped needling the very government it sustains. This is not merely a clash of egos or the familiar noise of Pakistani politics. It is a serious challenge to the fragile equilibrium that holds the federation together. If the PPP harbors genuine grievances about governance or distribution, the place to air them is parliament, not a series of press conferences designed to stoke provincial resentments.
The timing could hardly be worse. Pakistan is in the grip of multiple crises – floodwaters rising in Sindh and Punjab, crops destroyed, food security under threat, an economy still struggling to find its feet. Millions of citizens look to the state for relief, while international institutions scrutinize whether Islamabad can deliver with coherence and unity. What the public sees instead is a coalition tearing into itself, indulging in a war of words that weakens both government and federation. Federal law minister Azam Nazeer Tarar attempted to calm the storm, casting the rift as a “family matter” within a democratic household. There is some wisdom in that tone. Differences are inevitable; coalitions demand patience and compromise. But the PPP cannot continue to play both sides – clutching ministries with one hand and throwing punches with the other.
Such duplicity corrodes trust not only within the coalition but between the provinces themselves. It feeds the narrative, already too familiar in Pakistan, that unity is a veneer, and that when the chips are down each province will turn inward, retreating into grievance and suspicion. Maryam Nawaz’s words, in that light, were less about Punjab than about Pakistan itself. Her defence of the province was, implicitly, a defence of the federation’s most vital pillar. To weaken Punjab is not to strengthen the federation; it is to destabilize it. This is a truth the PPP understands but often ignores for political gain.
For a party that once claimed to embody national unity – the party of Bhutto, which drew strength from every corner of the country – today’s descent into parochial sparring is a sad betrayal of its own legacy. Pakistan does not have the luxury of endless squabbling. The floods do not discriminate between Sindh and Punjab. Poverty does not pause for political point-scoring. Debt does not shrink because politicians trade barbs at podiums. The country’s challenges are shared, as should be its solutions. If the PPP finds the burden of partnership intolerable, it has every right to step aside. If it chooses to remain, it must embrace the responsibility of unity. There is no middle path that allows the enjoyment of power alongside the indulgence of perpetual opposition.
(The writer is a public health professional, journalist, and possesses expertise in health communication, having keen interest in national and international affairs, can be reached at uzma@metro-morning.com)
