Pakistan of Your Dreams?: by Mieko Nishimizu Former Vice President, South Asia Region, the World Bank

Do you dream of Pakistan free of poverty? Pakistan, where quality of life guarantees human dignity for every citizen. Pakistan, where every woman, and every man too, can live a life to her/his full potential. Pakistan, where all children live, to play today and learn tomorrow.

Whatever yours may be, that is the dream of the "silent majority" of Pakistan – all the poor people, especially women – if they have the time to dream …

In May 1999, I lived for a few days in a village deep in the folds of the Karakorum Mountain Range. There I met a widow struggling to survive with two children. Sitting in her dark mud and thatch house, she described her life to me. She said:

I get up before the sun, and go fetch water. One hour up the mountain, one hour down the mountain. I sweep the animal shed and feed my goats. I boil the water. Give tea, and a little bread, to children. Go out to the field before the sun gets too hot. I grow wheat to feed the animals, and some vegetables. No, I do not grow enough to sell. Tea for lunch, sometimes only hot water. Clean the house, some washing if there is extra water. I may do some more work in the field. Go up the mountain for water again. It takes longer in the afternoon – it is hot and I am tired. Boil the water. Lentils and some bread for supper, before the sun goes down. I talk with my children in the dark, before we sleep. I like the night time best.

Imagine living like that. From sunrise to sundown. Day in, day out. 365 days, year after year. No time to hope. No time to dream…

It is easy to be misled into thinking that we understand poverty. It takes more than our head to understand the reality of poverty. It takes an open heart . And mine was torn open many years ago, by the simple words of another woman. She had walked for hours under the scorching pre-monsoon sun, just to fetch a jug of water. "This, is not life," she said. "This, is only keeping a body alive."

If we could shrink the Earth's population to a village of exactly 100 people, there would be: about 80 people living in substandard housing; 70 people unable to read or write; 50 people, mostly women and children, suffering from malnutrition; only six who own 60 percent of the wealth of the village; one – yes, only one – with a university education; and barely one, who has a computer.

The development of Pakistan has brought many benefits to her people. Over 30 years ago, only 2 percent of infants were immunized at all; today, over half receive this protection. A Pakistani child born 30 years ago could expect to live only about 52 years; today, the child can expect to live about 63 years. Thirty years ago, only 20 out of one hundred Pakistanis could read and write; today, that number has more than doubled. Only 25 out of 100 girls attended primary school 30 years ago; 62 do today.

Yet, underneath these and many other signs of progress, Pakistan too harbors a divide like that global village – probably worse. Within its borders, the most advanced and the most primitive of man's technologies coexist. It is home to brilliant minds and great wealth, and to illiterate people and abject poverty. Here we are in Lahore with all its glitter and accomplishments. In less than 15km out in any direction, and even within the city limits, the stark divide confronts us. Farther away still, Lahore seems as if it might belong to another planet.

The digital divide, the development divide, call it what you will. This city, where we have gathered today in great comfort, is an island of prosperity in an ocean of poverty that is still Pakistan.

Should you dream of Pakistan, free of poverty? Should you care?

Several years ago, my colleagues went around the country, systematically, listening to Pakistani citizens from all walks of life, to reflect their advice in the World Bank's assistance strategy for Pakistan. This is what we heard:

These are powerful and frightening words. They spoke to us, then, of a crisis of governance. Listening to what was said, and also what was not said, we heard cynicism and sensed skepticism about any government's ability to change truly, for good governance. We felt a palpable absence of trust between the people and those in any positions of power and authority. This was information more powerful and frightening than any spoken words.

What did good governance mean to those citizens of Pakistan at that time?

Good governance to these people meant getting textbooks to children on the first day of the school year, instead of waiting for months while deals were being made through distribution chains. It meant teachers showing up to teach, instead of just collecting paychecks through political patronage or in private tutorials outside the classroom. It meant teachers and professors were educators – qualified, certified, and motivated, not just to teach academic subjects but also to be role models as good human beings. It meant basic drugs were available for the needy at public health facilities, instead of stolen and sold to the market place. It meant medical staff were on duty to care for the sick, instead of in private practice somewhere else.

Good governance meant no power outages stifling growth in output and employment, because the energy industry was regulated well and consumers paid for what they used instead of overloading the system by theft. It meant exporters could compete, because trade logistics worked, and goods move through Karachi Port speedily without extractions. It meant captains of industry could focus on their business and an honest bottom-line, instead of protecting what they had from harassment and extortion. It meant bankers made good loans to real investments that fuelled growth, instead of saddling themselves and the nation's economy with bad debts. It meant the rich and the powerful repaid their loans, as regularly as poor micro-credit borrowers.

Good governance meant all taxes due were collected and actually go to the treasury, instead of lining somebody's pockets. It meant a Rupee would go much further in financing development projects, because public procurement process was honest, transparent, and efficient. It meant all public spending was accounted for as intended, and audited currently and not years after the fact.

And, good governance also meant laws of the land were there in the citizen' ;s interest. It meant they were enforced as such by the judiciary, police and other law-enforcement agencies, earning the people's trust through their professional competence and integrity. It meant order in the society and the economy that brought out what is truly Pakistan – its hard-working, proud and passionate people.

Good governance meant all these and more – saving the nation's finances from lost resources, and the economy and the people from lost opportunities.

What we heard of Pakistan, as told by its citizens themselves to my colleagues several years ago, was a nation in a crisis of governance, trapped in poverty. A crisis of governance, corroding the nation's economy, finances, and once-proud institutions. A crisis of governance, distorting the distribution of income, wealth and human capital. A crisis of governance, threatening social justice, harmony, and the very soul of the nation – the hope and happiness of the sovereign people of Pakistan.

Martin Luther King – a civil rights leader who transformed the struggle of black Americans into a nonviolent resistance movement – wrote a now famous letter from the Birmingham City Jail to a group of leaders of Christian faith who were urging him to stop his movement. He said:

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly."

How right he was. World history itself is his witness, and bears one important lesson: Political instability, conflicts and even war have tended to be rooted deeply in some form of social injustice; and, such injustice has existed side by side with wide-spread poverty on the one hand, and bad governance or even failure of the state on the other.

So, should you dream of Pakistan free of poverty? Should you care? Yes, if you care about peace and security – for yourself, for your family, and for your country. You should care, because poverty is not just a development issue. It is an issue of national security, for Pakistan to remain whole and wholesome as a sovereign state.

What, then, does it take to reach the dream of Pakistan, free of poverty? What does it reallytake to get there?

There are many factors we know about, and many we do not know about, that work to achieve growth with equity. I hold a view that quality of leadership – in governments and throughout the civil society – is one such factor that is of enormous import.

Years ago, my first tour of Pakistan as the World Bank Country Director took me to remote corners of Balochistan and the Northern Areas. There I met, for the first time in my life, women and men of communities empowering themselves to fight poverty, and achieving visible outcomes at a rate so rapid that it was beyond my economist's imagination. Thanks to the people of these villages, whom I still revere as my teachers, I began to think about development very differently. I began to think of it as a learning process, a process of transformation of a society – of the people, by the people, for the people.

The language may be different, and so may be the scale of successes. In my journey throughout the South Asia Region, however, the story of empowerment remained the same – from village to village and from slum to slum, all over Pakistan and beyond its borders to Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, Maldives, Nepal, Sri Lanka, and more recently Afghanistan.

Thinking in this way, the success of any development programmes must be judged by whether it kicks off a process of sustained social learning, spreading to a broader society over time. It must be judged by whether the acorn of institution building has been firmly planted, and is beginning to grow as a strong oak tree. It must by definition be an open-ended participatory, or democratic, process that cannot possibly be designed 100 percent up front.

Such a process calls for strong leaders, who can take the political society of Pakistan at all levels away from the politics of patronage to politics of good governance.

Reducing poverty is about sharing tangible and intangible fruits of economic growth more equitably. Strategy, policies and actions to achieve them are about changes with winners and losers. This fact challenges people with vested interests in the status quo. It also challenges those with radically different political views about the course or process of change. The challenge is manifold in a nation that suffers from pervasive bad governance.

Visionary leaders inspire and raise the sights of the people above their lowest common denominator. They help their people see beyond immediate personal losses to greater opportunities for all. Rapid economic growth can be achieved without such leaders, and the economic history of the world is full of such cases. But, quality growth with equity, redistributing income and wealth as nations grow, cannot be achieved without such leaders and their good governance.

That quality growth, moreover, is not just about sharing the fruits of growth more equally. It is also about a sovereign people helping those poor or socially marginalized among them to help themselves. Citizens, both rich and poor, need to feel satisfied that they are consulted truly and have participated actively in the process of change. They need to feel convinced that they can honour a consensus, and share deeply in a common vision, strategy and actions. Such a participatory, democratic, process of change is the only way to secure a sustainable development path.

But, in consulting deeply -- especially with those women, as well as men, who are marginalized from the mainstream of the society or economy -- it is important to listen to their silence. As Jelaluddin Rumi (the 13th century poet-saint who hailed from Balkh, Afghanistan) reminds us,

There is a way between voice and presence

where information flows.

In disciplined silence it opens.

With wandering talk it closes.

It means knowing their fears, and making a secure space for their empowerment and voice. It means valuing differences as society's wealth, and finding unity in diversity of views and perspectives whatever the roots -- be they culture, language, race, religion, caste, gender or simply age. It means listening to and learning from the wisdom of these people, with genuine respect.

Such a process demands humility and tolerance , the core Islamic values, in every citizen of the land. It is especially so, in leaders and the elite who are in the position to shepherd the change process. In the cultural context of many with power and privilege, however, these qualities do not visit naturally nor do they always stay for good. Yet, no development process will ever be truly participatory and sustainable without the humble and tolerant leadership.

I dare say, Pakistan without poverty will remain a mere dream without the humble and tolerant leadership throughout the nation, from Islamabad, to her Provincial capitals, to cities, to towns, to slums, and to all the villages – visionary leaders of courage, who draw strength from humility, find peace in tolerance, and gain true power by giving it away.

Is there hope, then, for the dream of Pakistan, free of poverty?

Yes. And, to a significant measure, that hope rests in you – the young educated people of leadership potential. It also rests in the women of this country.

Over the years, I have gained a mental picture of how most "mature" men of Pakistan have become entrapped in a political culture of patronage. A culture driven by narrow self-interests. A culture that favors status quo over change. A culture that is not conducive to sustain good governance in a process of social, economic and political transformation. [I mean no offense to you gentlemen!]

And, I gained a picture of how the youth and women of Pakistan, yet untouched by or excluded from this culture, were wonderfully free of the trap. They have little to lose, and a great deal to gain, from embracing change. Empowered with opportunity and the financial wherewithal to express themselves in political life, they might very well do it free of the old ways -- driven, not by self-interests, but in the interest of the common good, for the family, for the community, and for the nation. Good governance is good politics after all, and politics of patronage makes absolutely no sense in any case, in this modern age of information!

Against that backdrop, political and administrative decentralization has begun, taking the discipline of good governance closer to the people themselves. And a tectonic shift has occurred among elected representatives at all levels. Along with their youth and higher educational attainment, I note more women. With one-third of the seats reserved, and more entering outside them, women now form a critical mass in every assembly of this land -- a political landscape of the kind that has not yet emerged in most countries around the world, the developed and the developing alike. Seeds of change, however small, have indeed been planted.

It is fortuitous that this political change was seeded at a time of strength in the economy, driven by the structural reform programme focused singularly on good governance. It has "wind in its sails", as my good friend John Wall (the World Bank Country Director for Pakistan) likes to say. While the debt-burdened economy is not yet out of the woods, macro stability was won, and growth is returning with more jobs and investments. Those governance-focused reforms implemented to date have been singularly revolutionary in their magnitude, truly home grown and world class in their substance. You would be the first to point out that the reforms remain a work in progress. Yes, absolutely. There is a great deal more to be done, demanding faster implementation at an even higher caliber, towards outcomes that will place in Pakistan's hands an additional 3 percent of GDP, to begin with, for poverty reduction.

Whether the journey of political transformation would take Pakistan forward to a new culture of good governance, or take her back to the old culture of patronage, it is too soon to tell. But, to repeat, I say it will depend to a large extent on your own participation and leadership: on your vision that is far-seeing; on your conviction that is of the mind, heart and actions; and on your courage that draws strength from humility, that finds peace in tolerance, and that gains true power by giving it away – whatever you intend to do in your life.

So, what do you want to dream, of Pakistan?

Whatever your dream may be, be thankful first of all that you can dream.

I still recall vividly a day in March, 1996, I spent at a Lahore slum called Kot Lakh Pat, learning about the work of the Youth Commission for Human Rights and their home-based schools for girls. In one of their schools, an open-air classroom on the roof-top of a house, I asked the schoolgirls a question: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I ask this question whenever I visit schools in my travels, to observe whether students are learning to think independently and to envision the future. Here is the entry in my diary recording that very moment…

Here I go again. What do you want to be when you grow up? For the first time, two girls shock me with their answer. "I never had such thoughts before, and I don't know." Faces of tired old women, on the body of skinny little girls. I despair and am left totally speechless.

I repeat. Whatever it may be, be thankful that you have the leisure to weave your dream. And, I dare you to dream of your Pakistan free of poverty, peaceful and prosperous. I dare you to align your life to that dream.

You, are the chosen few who will spread the beacon of this great institution, Lahore University of Management Science, and the spirit of LUMS throughout the Nation Pakistan. Yours will no doubt be a brilliant career. But, you will achieve nothing, absolutely nothing, for yourself, your children, your family and your country, unless you pursue the dream of all the poor women and men of the Nation Pakistan. Failing that, you too might very well end up saying: "This, is not life. This, is only keeping a body alive."

I end with a favorite passage of mine from the Koran: "Verily never will Allah change the condition of a people until they change it themselves, with their own souls ... " I wish you well – the humble and tolerant leaders of Pakistan' ;s tomorrow. And, I wish the people of Pakistan well – and mash'Allah all the good leaders of today, and of tomorrow, among them.

Pakistan paindabad, from the bottom of my heart.

Click on the link below to access the Urdu translation of the Speech.