Pakistan turns 78 this year. With a population of nearly 255 million, the country remains a developing nation. In its lifetime, Pakistan has fought four wars, endured three military coups, countless unstable governments, over two dozen devastating floods and seven destructive earthquakes. Yet despite turbulence and crises, the state has survived, clinging to its sovereignty against immense odds.
But one enemy has grown stronger with every passing decade: corruption.
Corruption in Pakistan is no longer the act of a few individuals; it has become systemic and deeply embedded in governance, politics, and public culture. At the very top, deals and arrangements often serve private pockets over the public good. At the very bottom, petty bribery, whether from traffic police or through fake medical and educational certificates, has become routine.
The role of provincial governments should be limited to policymaking and oversight, not micromanaging projects.
The real damage, however, lies in the middle machinery of the government and bureaucracy. This is the corruption that rarely makes headlines but silently bleeds the country dry. Delayed project approvals cost billions. Files sit unattended in offices because no one is incentivised to move them. Development schemes consume half their budgets or sometimes were never needed in the first place and yet still get approved, simply to create another opportunity for kickbacks.
Every government arrives with loud promises of reform. Every government departs leaving behind the same disillusionment. Oversight bodies are politicised or toothless, and the cycle continues. Over time, corruption has become so normalised that many Pakistanis simply shrug and accept it as “the way things work.” That resignation is as damaging as the corruption itself.
The way forward is clear: decentralisation.
Real progress demands empowering local governments with genuine authority and financial independence. Development funds must flow to councils and mayors who are directly answerable to the people they serve. Councils, town committees, and mayors represent communities, making them far more accountable for service delivery. At the grassroots, citizens can see and question whether a road was built, a drain was fixed, or a school was improved. That visibility creates accountability in a way that centralised systems never can.
Decentralisation also ensures fairer distribution of resources. Instead of a handful of politicians controlling billions, funds are spread across hundreds of local representatives. This weakens opportunities for corruption and guarantees that no area is neglected simply because it lacks political clout.
The recent floods should serve as a painful reminder. Much of the destruction could have been avoided if effective local bodies existed as they would have enforced some building regulations. Homes and shops were allowed to spring up directly in the natural path of water flows, turning rivers into agents of destruction. Stronger local bodies could have restricted unsafe construction, maintained drainage systems and acted swiftly in disaster preparedness.
At 78, Pakistan’s survival is not in question, but its progress is. So why don’t the provinces decentralise, in the true sense? Because it threatens the ruling elite. They fear it would weaken their political grip. Keeping development funds at the provincial level allows ruling parties to distribute money through their own MPAs and ministers. If citizens can solve their problems through a local councillor or mayor, they may no longer need to approach their MPA for favours. That undercuts the patronage system that has defined Pakistani politics for decades. Politicians in power also see empowered mayors and councillors as potential rivals.
Bureaucrats oppose this for the same reason: their power would diminish. A functioning local government would mean less discretionary authority to approve, delay, or block projects. Without control over funds and paperwork, the machinery loses its ability to act as both, gatekeeper and a beneficiary of corruption.
This is why Pakistan has repeatedly seen delays in local body elections, weak councils, and powerless local administrations. Authority remains trapped in the hands of the ruling politicians and bureaucrats, at the expense of efficiency, transparency, accountability, and public trust.
The role of provincial governments should be limited to policymaking and oversight, not micromanaging projects. Governments are meant to govern, not act like contractors.
It is not that corruption cannot be defeated, it can. The real question is: will any government finally find the courage to decentralise funds and empower local bodies, instead of weakening them to preserve its own power and continue its own corruption?
The writer is a former State Minister for Education and Professional Training, former Member of the National Assembly of Pakistan, Chairperson of the Prime Minister’s Youth Programme and Director at Media Times.