What is the value of winning a political argument when the country is losing its future? What does it mean to occupy the treasury benches or the opposition seats when millions of citizens are struggling to secure two meals a day, millions of children remain outside classrooms, and educated young people see no future at home? These are not merely questions for politicians. They are questions that should trouble every institution and every citizen of Pakistan.

Unfortunately, the spectacle unfolding in our National Parliament presents a deeply disturbing contrast. At a time when the country needs wisdom, restraint and national direction, political discourse is increasingly dominated by personal insults, hostility and verbal confrontation. The very institution entrusted with representing the people is too often seen debating personalities rather than priorities. The question is no longer simply who is right or wrong in a political dispute; it is whether our political leadership understands the gravity of the moment.

Look beyond the walls of Parliament and the picture becomes even more painful. According to the World Bank’s October 2026 assessment, approximately 70 million Pakistanis are living in poverty, with the national poverty rate reaching 29%. UNICEF reports that 25.1 million children aged 5–16 are out of school. Unemployment stood at 7% in 2024, while approximately 3.5 million young people enter the labour force every year. Behind every statistic is a human story: a family unable to meet its expenses, a child denied an education, a graduate without employment and a young professional preparing to leave the country.

Our economic figures tell a story that political speeches cannot conceal. Public and publicly guaranteed debt reached approximately Rs90.98 trillion by June 2026, while total debt and liabilities approached Rs100 trillion. During FY2025–26, the merchandise trade deficit was approximately US$39.47 billion, with exports of US$30.13 billion against imports of US$69.60 billion. Net foreign direct investment was around US$1.64 billion, while GDP growth was reported at 3.7%. These figures should have been enough to place economic survival at the centre of parliamentary debate. Instead, the national conversation remains trapped in political confrontation.

Pakistan’s fundamental problem is not a shortage of speeches, committees, announcements or political promises. It is the persistent failure to translate national potential into public prosperity. We have a large population, a young workforce, fertile agricultural land, a substantial livestock sector, strategic geography and a growing pool of professional talent. Yet we continue to struggle with low productivity, weak exports, inadequate investment and an economy heavily dependent on borrowing.

Consider the contradiction. We aspire to become an economically independent nation, but our imports continue to substantially exceed our exports. We speak of attracting foreign investment, yet political uncertainty, inconsistent policies, regulatory complications and high energy costs undermine investor confidence. We talk about economic growth, but fail to create sufficient productive employment for our young people. We have the resources and human potential to do much better, but potential without planning, continuity and accountability produces little more than frustration.

Our agriculture and livestock sectors offer one of the clearest opportunities for economic transformation. They can generate exports, create employment, support rural communities and contribute to food security. But this requires modern technology, quality education, disease control, research, processing facilities and access to international markets. These sectors cannot be developed through occasional political announcements; they need long-term national strategies and consistent investment.

Perhaps the most alarming loss is not visible in the balance sheets: it is the loss of confidence among our young people. When educated citizens see limited opportunities, uncertain policies and institutions consumed by conflict, they begin to look elsewhere. Every talented professional who leaves represents more than an individual departure. It is a loss of knowledge, public investment and productive capacity that the country can ill afford.

This is where the responsibility of Parliament becomes critical. Parliament is not a personal battlefield, a television studio or a platform for humiliating political opponents. It is where national priorities must be debated, public expenditure scrutinised, governments held accountable and laws made in the public interest. Democracy does not demand agreement on every issue; it demands respect for institutions, tolerance of disagreement and responsibility towards the people.

The government must accept that holding power is not an achievement in itself; it is a public trust. The opposition must understand that criticism is meaningful only when it offers credible alternatives. The Speaker must protect the dignity of the House, and political party leaders must ensure that their representatives observe parliamentary standards. No political party can claim to defend democracy while treating Parliament’s decorum as optional.

Pakistan needs a new political understanding: not a compromise over principles, but a consensus on national survival. Education, employment, exports, investment, public health, agriculture, energy and institutional stability must rise above party manifestos and electoral calculations. Governments may change, but national priorities should not be abandoned every time political power changes hands. Accountability must be impartial, and public office must be measured by performance rather than political loyalty.

A country’s greatness is not measured by the volume of arguments inside its Parliament, but by the quality of life outside it. The real test of leadership is whether a child can attend school, a graduate can find work, a farmer can earn a fair return, a business can invest with confidence and an ordinary family can live with dignity.

Pakistan does not need more political theatre. It needs political maturity. It does not need louder voices; it needs wiser decisions. And it certainly does not need leaders who consider defeating their opponents more important than rescuing the country from its economic and institutional challenges.

The question before us is therefore much bigger than the next election, the next parliamentary session or the next political confrontation. It is about the kind of country we are leaving for the next generation.

A nation cannot build its future while its leaders remain occupied with fighting over its present. A nation in crisis cannot afford a Parliament in disarray. Where, then, is Pakistan heading?

Dr Alamdar Hussain Malik
Advisor Academics, University of Veterinary and Animal Sciences, Swat
Former Financial Advisor, Finance Division, Government of Pakistan