ENVIRONMENT: TO BREATHE OR NOT TO BREATHE?
Sheheryar Khan
Published November 10, 2024
DAWN
Passengers wait for a train at a railway station amid smoggy conditions in Lahore on November 3, 2024 | AFP
The onset of smog season in October results in a decline in air quality across Punjab, on either side of the Pakistan-India border. Lahore and Delhi are traditionally the worst affected, with the Pakistani city recording “unprecedented” pollution levels.
The air quality index, which measures a range of pollutants, exceeded 1,000 in Lahore last week — it is considered “unhealthy” at the level of 100 and “hazardous” when it is 300 or more — according to data from IQAir, an air quality monitor.
The situation, in Lahore and elsewhere in Pakistan’s Punjab, is being made worse by the political and policy inertia of the Punjab government.
Every year, there are multiple studies and reports published on the subject and policy dialogues are convened to add to the public discourse. Despite these efforts, one question looms large: why, despite having ample scientific data and understanding of pollution patterns, has the government failed to take decisive action?
Despite having ample data and understanding of pollution patterns, Punjab has failed to take policy decisions to combat the year-round smog problem, thereby subjecting its residents to “hazardous” levels of pollution in winter…
The answer lies not in a lack of awareness, but in a deeply rooted knowledge-action gap, where the presence of scientific knowledge fails to translate into policy change, because of political and institutional barriers.
Over the past decade, environmental scientists, both locally and globally, have made substantial progress in identifying the root causes of air pollution. Detailed data have mapped out the major culprits: industrial emissions, agricultural stubble burning, vehicular emissions and construction dust. Seasonal spikes, most notably in winter, occur due to temperature inversions, trapping pollutants close to the ground and amplifying smog.
Similarly, there have been several studies on the socio-economic impacts of smog, especially related to deteriorating public health. Yet, despite having this data readily available and witnessing the devastating health and economic impacts of air pollution, policy responses remain fragmented, inconsistent and slow.
Punjab’s Environmental Policy
One might assume that simply knowing the causes of pollution would lead to swift action, but the science-policy relationship is rarely straightforward. Despite clear scientific evidence of the problem, decision-makers are caught between competing interests, fragmented responsibilities, and the political weight of environmental regulations on influential sectors.
For instance, while it is well-known that stubble-burning contributes significantly to smog, attempts to curb this practice have been largely ineffective. Farmers, already struggling with limited financial resources, view alternatives — such as crop residue shredders — as too costly, even with government subsidies, and continue with stubble-burning every year.
Over in the industrial sector, rather than enforcing stricter regulations or increasing support for alternatives, policymakers have often resorted to temporary shutdowns of industrial sites or limited brick kiln operations. Such actions fail to address the core issues and provide only brief respites from poor air quality.
Temporary shutdowns only reduce emissions momentarily and do not tackle the long-term pollution generated daily by factories and kilns. Addressing these issues would require establishing enforceable, year-round standards, incentivising cleaner technologies and alternative fuels, and ensuring a robust system for regular inspections and penalties for non-compliance.
The onset of smog season in October results in a decline in air quality across Punjab, on either side of the Pakistan-India border. Lahore and Delhi are traditionally the worst affected, with the Pakistani city recording “unprecedented” pollution levels.
The air quality index, which measures a range of pollutants, exceeded 1,000 in Lahore last week — it is considered “unhealthy” at the level of 100 and “hazardous” when it is 300 or more — according to data from IQAir, an air quality monitor.
The situation, in Lahore and elsewhere in Pakistan’s Punjab, is being made worse by the political and policy inertia of the Punjab government.
Every year, there are multiple studies and reports published on the subject and policy dialogues are convened to add to the public discourse. Despite these efforts, one question looms large: why, despite having ample scientific data and understanding of pollution patterns, has the government failed to take decisive action?
Despite having ample data and understanding of pollution patterns, Punjab has failed to take policy decisions to combat the year-round smog problem, thereby subjecting its residents to “hazardous” levels of pollution in winter…
The answer lies not in a lack of awareness, but in a deeply rooted knowledge-action gap, where the presence of scientific knowledge fails to translate into policy change, because of political and institutional barriers.
Over the past decade, environmental scientists, both locally and globally, have made substantial progress in identifying the root causes of air pollution. Detailed data have mapped out the major culprits: industrial emissions, agricultural stubble burning, vehicular emissions and construction dust. Seasonal spikes, most notably in winter, occur due to temperature inversions, trapping pollutants close to the ground and amplifying smog.
Similarly, there have been several studies on the socio-economic impacts of smog, especially related to deteriorating public health. Yet, despite having this data readily available and witnessing the devastating health and economic impacts of air pollution, policy responses remain fragmented, inconsistent and slow.
Punjab’s Environmental Policy
One might assume that simply knowing the causes of pollution would lead to swift action, but the science-policy relationship is rarely straightforward. Despite clear scientific evidence of the problem, decision-makers are caught between competing interests, fragmented responsibilities, and the political weight of environmental regulations on influential sectors.
For instance, while it is well-known that stubble-burning contributes significantly to smog, attempts to curb this practice have been largely ineffective. Farmers, already struggling with limited financial resources, view alternatives — such as crop residue shredders — as too costly, even with government subsidies, and continue with stubble-burning every year.
Over in the industrial sector, rather than enforcing stricter regulations or increasing support for alternatives, policymakers have often resorted to temporary shutdowns of industrial sites or limited brick kiln operations. Such actions fail to address the core issues and provide only brief respites from poor air quality.
Temporary shutdowns only reduce emissions momentarily and do not tackle the long-term pollution generated daily by factories and kilns. Addressing these issues would require establishing enforceable, year-round standards, incentivising cleaner technologies and alternative fuels, and ensuring a robust system for regular inspections and penalties for non-compliance.
AQI levels in Lahore between Nov 2-4, 2024: Lahore saw its AQI reach an “unprecedented” level of over 1,000, more than three times the level considered “hazardous” to health | IQAir
Political Stakes and Misplaced Priorities
A core reason for inaction lies in the political and economic stakes tied to air pollution and misplaced priorities. Punjab’s industrial sector, one of the primary contributors to pollution, is also a major economic driver. Implementing stringent regulations could slow down production, impact profits and even lead to job losses.
Similarly, agricultural practices such as stubble-burning are deeply entrenched, and sudden changes could lead to significant disruptions in an already strained agricultural economy. Even though these sectors have been identified as critical polluters, the government is reluctant to pursue measures that could be politically costly.
As far as the issue of misplaced priorities is concerned, a case in point is the development model of Lahore, which has relied on road infrastructure projects with the aim to ease traffic congestion in the city. This has resulted in the construction of signal-free corridors across the city. This also means that, during the construction phase of these projects, the cement and dust particles are likely to remain suspended in the air, contributing to the bad air quality.
Consequently, there is an incentive for citizens of the city to use private transport which, as a result of these corridors, will be much quicker for daily commutes than public transport. The entire development model of Lahore incentivises more vehicles on roads, rather than focusing on a public transport policy that doesn’t incentivise use of private transport and vehicles.
State’s Responsibility
With the recent passage of the 26th Amendment, the constitution of Pakistan now enshrines the “Right to a Clean and Healthy Environment” under Article 9A. This amendment mandates the government to protect citizens from environmental harm, making it incumbent on the state to address the severe air quality crisis.
Now that the evidence unequivocally shows air quality levels have reached hazardous levels, the government’s responsibility to act is more pressing than ever. To put it simply, government action against the smog crisis is a public health imperative.
What Punjab needs now is not more data, but a concerted, integrated approach that prioritises public health over short-term, knee-jerk, gimmick-oriented solutions, such as using mist machines on the streets of Lahore.
Way Forward
Much of the data points to automobiles as a major contributor of emissions and pollution. There is existing regulation on shifting to cleaner Euro-V fuels across the country, but that is only part of the solution.
The preponderance of old vehicles with inefficient engines is equally responsible for emissions, which is why the automobile legislation should focus on an effective motor vehicle-testing regime and a plan to phase out old/polluting vehicles. Additionally, there should be a focus on public transport legislation, whereby incentives are provided to citizens and organisations to take up public over private transport.
This was also among the recommendations of a recent policy report published by the World Wide Fund for Nature Pakistan (WWF-Pakistan), titled Situational Analysis of Air Quality in Lahore.
Among other things, the report lays emphasis on the need for an efficient mass transit system. It says that expanding Lahore’s mass transit options can mitigate vehicular pollution. Lahore’s Metro Bus and Orange Line Metro Train have been effective, but further development of affordable, efficient mass transit across the city would encourage public use, thus reducing private vehicle reliance and emissions over the long term.
Such a developmental project also makes political sense and is in line with the political parties’ emphasis on large-scale infrastructure projects that are tangible signs of ‘development’ and progress.
There is a need to influence policy and decision-making to consider environmental factors as part of the planning process. Lahore, and Pakistan as a country on the whole, requires a solid, integrated green and sustainable plan for urban expansion. Presently, cities grow and central business districts develop without proper zoning strategies and without keeping in mind the environmental footprint of such development.
Each year, the cost of inaction becomes more apparent. The time has come to bridge this knowledge-action gap by implementing policies that reflect both scientific insight and on-the-ground realities of Punjab’s social and economic landscape.
If the government can move beyond the political inertia that has paralysed efforts thus far, there is hope that Punjab’s air can one day be breathable again.
The writer is a Commonwealth Scholar at the University of Bristol in the UK
Published in Dawn, EOS, November 10th, 2024
Political Stakes and Misplaced Priorities
A core reason for inaction lies in the political and economic stakes tied to air pollution and misplaced priorities. Punjab’s industrial sector, one of the primary contributors to pollution, is also a major economic driver. Implementing stringent regulations could slow down production, impact profits and even lead to job losses.
Similarly, agricultural practices such as stubble-burning are deeply entrenched, and sudden changes could lead to significant disruptions in an already strained agricultural economy. Even though these sectors have been identified as critical polluters, the government is reluctant to pursue measures that could be politically costly.
As far as the issue of misplaced priorities is concerned, a case in point is the development model of Lahore, which has relied on road infrastructure projects with the aim to ease traffic congestion in the city. This has resulted in the construction of signal-free corridors across the city. This also means that, during the construction phase of these projects, the cement and dust particles are likely to remain suspended in the air, contributing to the bad air quality.
Consequently, there is an incentive for citizens of the city to use private transport which, as a result of these corridors, will be much quicker for daily commutes than public transport. The entire development model of Lahore incentivises more vehicles on roads, rather than focusing on a public transport policy that doesn’t incentivise use of private transport and vehicles.
State’s Responsibility
With the recent passage of the 26th Amendment, the constitution of Pakistan now enshrines the “Right to a Clean and Healthy Environment” under Article 9A. This amendment mandates the government to protect citizens from environmental harm, making it incumbent on the state to address the severe air quality crisis.
Now that the evidence unequivocally shows air quality levels have reached hazardous levels, the government’s responsibility to act is more pressing than ever. To put it simply, government action against the smog crisis is a public health imperative.
What Punjab needs now is not more data, but a concerted, integrated approach that prioritises public health over short-term, knee-jerk, gimmick-oriented solutions, such as using mist machines on the streets of Lahore.
Way Forward
Much of the data points to automobiles as a major contributor of emissions and pollution. There is existing regulation on shifting to cleaner Euro-V fuels across the country, but that is only part of the solution.
The preponderance of old vehicles with inefficient engines is equally responsible for emissions, which is why the automobile legislation should focus on an effective motor vehicle-testing regime and a plan to phase out old/polluting vehicles. Additionally, there should be a focus on public transport legislation, whereby incentives are provided to citizens and organisations to take up public over private transport.
This was also among the recommendations of a recent policy report published by the World Wide Fund for Nature Pakistan (WWF-Pakistan), titled Situational Analysis of Air Quality in Lahore.
Among other things, the report lays emphasis on the need for an efficient mass transit system. It says that expanding Lahore’s mass transit options can mitigate vehicular pollution. Lahore’s Metro Bus and Orange Line Metro Train have been effective, but further development of affordable, efficient mass transit across the city would encourage public use, thus reducing private vehicle reliance and emissions over the long term.
Such a developmental project also makes political sense and is in line with the political parties’ emphasis on large-scale infrastructure projects that are tangible signs of ‘development’ and progress.
There is a need to influence policy and decision-making to consider environmental factors as part of the planning process. Lahore, and Pakistan as a country on the whole, requires a solid, integrated green and sustainable plan for urban expansion. Presently, cities grow and central business districts develop without proper zoning strategies and without keeping in mind the environmental footprint of such development.
Each year, the cost of inaction becomes more apparent. The time has come to bridge this knowledge-action gap by implementing policies that reflect both scientific insight and on-the-ground realities of Punjab’s social and economic landscape.
If the government can move beyond the political inertia that has paralysed efforts thus far, there is hope that Punjab’s air can one day be breathable again.
The writer is a Commonwealth Scholar at the University of Bristol in the UK
Published in Dawn, EOS, November 10th, 2024
An unwanted fifth season
November 11, 2024
DAWN
PUNJAB’S unwanted fifth season — smog — is currently in full bloom. Air quality in cities like Lahore, poor throughout the year, is at its toxic worst between October and January, with AQI readings well above 500 on most days.
The government’s response so far hinges on school closures and the enforcement of location-specific lockdowns. While keeping vulnerable groups, like children, away from public spaces filled with poisonous air is understandable, it is unlikely that air quality will be much cleaner at home.
Protest and despair at poor air quality is now a standard ritual during these months. Since at least 2015, when the onset of smog became sharply apparent in October, environmentalists and other experts have deliberated on what can be done to solve the issue. The answers are wide-ranging, and the absence of government ownership of the problem in the first few years didn’t help.
Almost a decade on, we can claim some clarity on the proximate causes of the air quality crisis. We know, thanks to source apportionment studies, that transport and industrial emissions are a major source of the problem, when averaged out through the year.
On account of further work, by Cambridge- and Oxford-based scientists Abdullah Bajwa and Hassan Sheikh, we know that vehicle fleet age, two-stroke engines in motorcycles and rickshaws, along with fuel quality are significant features of the problem.
Air quality is an issue that cannot be privatised beyond the mere use of air purifiers in private spaces.
We also know that crop burning in East Punjab contributes to the spike in smog levels during these current months, partly because of wind direction and the inversion of temperature that keeps particulate matter suspended in the air for longer.
Knowing all what we know now, the set of solutions available to us is also fairly clear. Changes in fuel quality, enforcement of fitness standards to phase out polluting vehicles, stricter regulations on industrial emissions, and the development of mass transit solutions to reduce the number of private vehicles on the road are all steps adopted by cities that grappled with air quality issues during the 20th century. In the present context, we have the additional option of ensuring public transport doesn’t add to the problem, mainly by inducting New Energy Vehicles.
Similarly, given that emissions do not respect the Radcliffe line, fenced or otherwise, cross-border collaboration between the two Punjabs is a categorical necessity. Domestic standards and interventions mentioned earlier will clear up the air, through the year on average, but spikes during October-November require the two countries to cooperate more closely and forge a collective solution.
Like with many other public policy issues in Pakistan, offering a set of solutions is not necessarily the problem. In fact, many of these interventions have been identified by the government itself, including through its own source apportionment studies carried out in the last few years. The challenge for us is one of state capacity and fiscal resources. It is precisely this challenge that makes one far more pessimistic about the short- and medium-term prospects for cleaner air.
State capacity is the ability of public sector institutions to implement whatever rules, regulations, objectives it sets out to achieve. As sociologist Michael Mann put it, this ability itself is of two types of power — despotic, which usually relies on punitive and coercive capacity; and infrastructural, which relies on cooperation, coordination, and behavioural shifts.
The weakness of infrastructural power among Pakistani public sector organisations is fairly clear. Rules and regulations, when they do exist, are subverted by powerful societal actors, or undermined by state officials themselves. When the state attempts to deliver services itself, it runs into significant resource constraints, or falls prey to various forms of inefficiencies.
These weaknesses are both a cause and a consequence of increased privatisation in every domain. People who can afford to opt out of state delivery in domains such as housing, water, health, education, even energy, have done so. The market caters to all such needs, as long as people can pay. With the rich and powerful no longer reliant on the state, there is even less pressure on officials to cater to the needs of those who have no other option.
Air quality, however, is an issue that cannot be privatised beyond the mere use of air purifiers in private spaces. Given the rate at which the AQI index is climbing, even purifiers won’t be able to solve the issue. Sure, the rich will have access to better healthcare and the luxury of not going out unless absolutely necessary, but that doesn’t offer the same type of insulation that an off-grid solar system or generator does against a failing public sector electricity grid.
There is no option, then, but to address the crisis. All the steps mentioned above require not only great fiscal outlay, but also the state to perform at a level of ability and capacity that it has seldom demonstrated in recent years. Will government departments tasked with monitoring vehicle fitness levels step up and increase monitoring?
Will local administrators who carry the responsibility of shutting down polluting industrial units be given the resources and protection to take on powerful interests? Will narrow national security considerations be set aside, and meaningful cross-border collaboration initiated?
Such steps can only take place once there is a level of clarity within the government about the smog issue being a public health crisis bigger than any encountered in the past. And that it requires explicit and dedicated attention over a long period of time to solve. Praying for a change in weather is not a sound strategy; similarly hoping that people forget about it or get used to it won’t save anyone’s lungs. The capacity required to tackle the problem needs to be built by the state, and the time to do it is right now.
The writer teaches sociology at Lums.
X: @umairjav
Published in Dawn, November 11th, 2024
PUNJAB’S unwanted fifth season — smog — is currently in full bloom. Air quality in cities like Lahore, poor throughout the year, is at its toxic worst between October and January, with AQI readings well above 500 on most days.
The government’s response so far hinges on school closures and the enforcement of location-specific lockdowns. While keeping vulnerable groups, like children, away from public spaces filled with poisonous air is understandable, it is unlikely that air quality will be much cleaner at home.
Protest and despair at poor air quality is now a standard ritual during these months. Since at least 2015, when the onset of smog became sharply apparent in October, environmentalists and other experts have deliberated on what can be done to solve the issue. The answers are wide-ranging, and the absence of government ownership of the problem in the first few years didn’t help.
Almost a decade on, we can claim some clarity on the proximate causes of the air quality crisis. We know, thanks to source apportionment studies, that transport and industrial emissions are a major source of the problem, when averaged out through the year.
On account of further work, by Cambridge- and Oxford-based scientists Abdullah Bajwa and Hassan Sheikh, we know that vehicle fleet age, two-stroke engines in motorcycles and rickshaws, along with fuel quality are significant features of the problem.
Air quality is an issue that cannot be privatised beyond the mere use of air purifiers in private spaces.
We also know that crop burning in East Punjab contributes to the spike in smog levels during these current months, partly because of wind direction and the inversion of temperature that keeps particulate matter suspended in the air for longer.
Knowing all what we know now, the set of solutions available to us is also fairly clear. Changes in fuel quality, enforcement of fitness standards to phase out polluting vehicles, stricter regulations on industrial emissions, and the development of mass transit solutions to reduce the number of private vehicles on the road are all steps adopted by cities that grappled with air quality issues during the 20th century. In the present context, we have the additional option of ensuring public transport doesn’t add to the problem, mainly by inducting New Energy Vehicles.
Similarly, given that emissions do not respect the Radcliffe line, fenced or otherwise, cross-border collaboration between the two Punjabs is a categorical necessity. Domestic standards and interventions mentioned earlier will clear up the air, through the year on average, but spikes during October-November require the two countries to cooperate more closely and forge a collective solution.
Like with many other public policy issues in Pakistan, offering a set of solutions is not necessarily the problem. In fact, many of these interventions have been identified by the government itself, including through its own source apportionment studies carried out in the last few years. The challenge for us is one of state capacity and fiscal resources. It is precisely this challenge that makes one far more pessimistic about the short- and medium-term prospects for cleaner air.
State capacity is the ability of public sector institutions to implement whatever rules, regulations, objectives it sets out to achieve. As sociologist Michael Mann put it, this ability itself is of two types of power — despotic, which usually relies on punitive and coercive capacity; and infrastructural, which relies on cooperation, coordination, and behavioural shifts.
The weakness of infrastructural power among Pakistani public sector organisations is fairly clear. Rules and regulations, when they do exist, are subverted by powerful societal actors, or undermined by state officials themselves. When the state attempts to deliver services itself, it runs into significant resource constraints, or falls prey to various forms of inefficiencies.
These weaknesses are both a cause and a consequence of increased privatisation in every domain. People who can afford to opt out of state delivery in domains such as housing, water, health, education, even energy, have done so. The market caters to all such needs, as long as people can pay. With the rich and powerful no longer reliant on the state, there is even less pressure on officials to cater to the needs of those who have no other option.
Air quality, however, is an issue that cannot be privatised beyond the mere use of air purifiers in private spaces. Given the rate at which the AQI index is climbing, even purifiers won’t be able to solve the issue. Sure, the rich will have access to better healthcare and the luxury of not going out unless absolutely necessary, but that doesn’t offer the same type of insulation that an off-grid solar system or generator does against a failing public sector electricity grid.
There is no option, then, but to address the crisis. All the steps mentioned above require not only great fiscal outlay, but also the state to perform at a level of ability and capacity that it has seldom demonstrated in recent years. Will government departments tasked with monitoring vehicle fitness levels step up and increase monitoring?
Will local administrators who carry the responsibility of shutting down polluting industrial units be given the resources and protection to take on powerful interests? Will narrow national security considerations be set aside, and meaningful cross-border collaboration initiated?
Such steps can only take place once there is a level of clarity within the government about the smog issue being a public health crisis bigger than any encountered in the past. And that it requires explicit and dedicated attention over a long period of time to solve. Praying for a change in weather is not a sound strategy; similarly hoping that people forget about it or get used to it won’t save anyone’s lungs. The capacity required to tackle the problem needs to be built by the state, and the time to do it is right now.
The writer teaches sociology at Lums.
X: @umairjav
Published in Dawn, November 11th, 2024
The roads are killing us
Cities cannot become concrete jungles of flyovers and interchanges and still have clean air.
November 12, 2024
DAWN
LAST week, the prime minister found time to inaugurate two flyovers in Islamabad. Despite the ‘live coverage’ on television, it wasn’t a news item that attracted much attention.
Most people were too busy discussing the judiciary, the failed attempt to sell PIA, or the smog in Lahore and the rest of Punjab, with the provincial capital topping pollution charts worldwide.
But as discussion focused on Lahore’s ranking and the filth that most urban residents in Pakistan inhale all year, a greyness also descended on Islamabad. By the end of the week, winter sunshine in the capital had disappeared, as had the clear views of the Margalla Hills.
While this is relatively new for Islamabad, it is not unfamiliar. An exceptionally dry spell the previous winter had covered our lives with similar dullness. In other words, the infamous smog has reached the capital too; it will stay until there is rain. True, Islamabad can’t compare with Lahore, but it’s a beginning. And we know how this story ends — in many shades of grey and no sun.
But what does this have to do with the prime minister’s presence at city events in Islamabad, some may wonder. Everything. For while we moan and groan about the poison the people breathe in, day in and day out, and discuss industrial pollution in cities and how the winds from India are to blame, the issue will not be addressed until we change the way we think. Cities cannot become concrete jungles of flyovers and interchanges for the comfort of cars and still ensure blue skies and clean air.
Politicians continue to be obsessed with brick-and-mortar projects, equating them with development and good governance. In this outdated worldview, roads, flyovers and interchanges are the cool kids of development projects. Modern-day Lahore is a testament to it; where concrete crept up on large parts of ‘elite’ Lahore — Gulberg, Liberty, Model Town, DHA. Roads were widened, signal-free corridors added, and when all else failed, flyovers were squeezed in so that cars could zip around.
In the process, the green areas were narrowed and even done away with altogether. Ask those who remember the green belt that made up the Gulberg Boulevard before it was shrunk, planted with palm trees, and the road widened. Few people might remember, but they may have noticed that the wide road is no longer enough for the traffic, which has grown exponentially since.
As Kevin Costner once told us, build and they will come. What we in Pakistan did not and do not realise is that once roads are built, the cars will come; so many that the bigger roads will not be enough either. And with the traffic comes air pollution, which is the far bigger cause of the smog than winds from India.
The same solution/problem was imported to Islamabad during the Gen Musharraf years, when the avenues were widened needlessly. Needlessly because more than a decade after Musharraf has left, traffic in the city is still not enough to warrant these wide avenues. But we continue to build more roads, widen the existing ones, and build flyovers because traffic should whizz through a city the way it does on highways and motorways.
No one complains or protests because it suits the policymakers and the rich — the same people who will petition the courts about Monal, stone-crushing, and the sanctity of the Margalla Hills but never about the concrete that is conquering the city. Roads suit those who can afford cars, and hence it is easier to pretend this is not about the environment.
Roads, frankly, are a project for the rich and by the rich. Anyone living in Islamabad will realise this if they glance sideways, while whizzing down a wide road at 80 or 100 kilometres per hour. On either side, ordinary people stand, trying to figure out when they should run across without being run over; they have to run because there is no dignified way of crossing many roads.
The motorists may also notice, if they bothered to look, the people standing patiently at one end of the flyover, hoping for someone to slow down and offer them a lift to the other end. Because that flyover takes a car just seconds to traverse but a pedestrian much longer.
With no public transport and these highway-style roads in the middle of a city, the message for everybody is that a car or a motorbike is essential for life. Without one, the city doesn’t work for you. How can it, for while cars require four- to six-lane roads, people are told to climb up sky-high stairs to cross a road because pedestrian crossings are for the convenience of the motorists.
These pedestrian bridges are surely a desi invention, because never have I seen one in big Western cities where the traffic moves slowly so that people can walk. Indeed, in the rest of the world, urban planners are ripping out flyovers and big roads, thus restricting traffic. But Pakistan continues to move in a different direction. In fact, our idea of public transport also begins with roads. Before the bus is even purchased, roads are built for it.
This hits one all the more in Islamabad, because the capital was conceived as a 15-minute city. Take a close look at any of the older parts of town and it’s evident: the small parks are easily located and wide pedestrian walkways (despite the generators and security guard room encroachments) and small markets are included in every sub-sector, ensuring that a grocery story is within walking distance of every house. Move further away to the newer sectors and most of these amenities are missing; but big roads and the dust are ever-present.
This did become a bit of a rant. But as a layperson, I don’t know how else to say that Pakistani citizens will not enjoy the luxury of clean air till there is an overhaul of our development model and city planning. Dirty air cannot be fixed via piecemeal efforts.
The writer is a journalist.
Published in Dawn, November 12th, 2024
LAST week, the prime minister found time to inaugurate two flyovers in Islamabad. Despite the ‘live coverage’ on television, it wasn’t a news item that attracted much attention.
Most people were too busy discussing the judiciary, the failed attempt to sell PIA, or the smog in Lahore and the rest of Punjab, with the provincial capital topping pollution charts worldwide.
But as discussion focused on Lahore’s ranking and the filth that most urban residents in Pakistan inhale all year, a greyness also descended on Islamabad. By the end of the week, winter sunshine in the capital had disappeared, as had the clear views of the Margalla Hills.
While this is relatively new for Islamabad, it is not unfamiliar. An exceptionally dry spell the previous winter had covered our lives with similar dullness. In other words, the infamous smog has reached the capital too; it will stay until there is rain. True, Islamabad can’t compare with Lahore, but it’s a beginning. And we know how this story ends — in many shades of grey and no sun.
But what does this have to do with the prime minister’s presence at city events in Islamabad, some may wonder. Everything. For while we moan and groan about the poison the people breathe in, day in and day out, and discuss industrial pollution in cities and how the winds from India are to blame, the issue will not be addressed until we change the way we think. Cities cannot become concrete jungles of flyovers and interchanges for the comfort of cars and still ensure blue skies and clean air.
Politicians continue to be obsessed with brick-and-mortar projects, equating them with development and good governance. In this outdated worldview, roads, flyovers and interchanges are the cool kids of development projects. Modern-day Lahore is a testament to it; where concrete crept up on large parts of ‘elite’ Lahore — Gulberg, Liberty, Model Town, DHA. Roads were widened, signal-free corridors added, and when all else failed, flyovers were squeezed in so that cars could zip around.
In the process, the green areas were narrowed and even done away with altogether. Ask those who remember the green belt that made up the Gulberg Boulevard before it was shrunk, planted with palm trees, and the road widened. Few people might remember, but they may have noticed that the wide road is no longer enough for the traffic, which has grown exponentially since.
As Kevin Costner once told us, build and they will come. What we in Pakistan did not and do not realise is that once roads are built, the cars will come; so many that the bigger roads will not be enough either. And with the traffic comes air pollution, which is the far bigger cause of the smog than winds from India.
The same solution/problem was imported to Islamabad during the Gen Musharraf years, when the avenues were widened needlessly. Needlessly because more than a decade after Musharraf has left, traffic in the city is still not enough to warrant these wide avenues. But we continue to build more roads, widen the existing ones, and build flyovers because traffic should whizz through a city the way it does on highways and motorways.
No one complains or protests because it suits the policymakers and the rich — the same people who will petition the courts about Monal, stone-crushing, and the sanctity of the Margalla Hills but never about the concrete that is conquering the city. Roads suit those who can afford cars, and hence it is easier to pretend this is not about the environment.
Roads, frankly, are a project for the rich and by the rich. Anyone living in Islamabad will realise this if they glance sideways, while whizzing down a wide road at 80 or 100 kilometres per hour. On either side, ordinary people stand, trying to figure out when they should run across without being run over; they have to run because there is no dignified way of crossing many roads.
The motorists may also notice, if they bothered to look, the people standing patiently at one end of the flyover, hoping for someone to slow down and offer them a lift to the other end. Because that flyover takes a car just seconds to traverse but a pedestrian much longer.
With no public transport and these highway-style roads in the middle of a city, the message for everybody is that a car or a motorbike is essential for life. Without one, the city doesn’t work for you. How can it, for while cars require four- to six-lane roads, people are told to climb up sky-high stairs to cross a road because pedestrian crossings are for the convenience of the motorists.
These pedestrian bridges are surely a desi invention, because never have I seen one in big Western cities where the traffic moves slowly so that people can walk. Indeed, in the rest of the world, urban planners are ripping out flyovers and big roads, thus restricting traffic. But Pakistan continues to move in a different direction. In fact, our idea of public transport also begins with roads. Before the bus is even purchased, roads are built for it.
This hits one all the more in Islamabad, because the capital was conceived as a 15-minute city. Take a close look at any of the older parts of town and it’s evident: the small parks are easily located and wide pedestrian walkways (despite the generators and security guard room encroachments) and small markets are included in every sub-sector, ensuring that a grocery story is within walking distance of every house. Move further away to the newer sectors and most of these amenities are missing; but big roads and the dust are ever-present.
This did become a bit of a rant. But as a layperson, I don’t know how else to say that Pakistani citizens will not enjoy the luxury of clean air till there is an overhaul of our development model and city planning. Dirty air cannot be fixed via piecemeal efforts.
The writer is a journalist.
Published in Dawn, November 12th, 2024
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