Cracks in the Window

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Ijaz Rehan

Bajaur: Literature often recognizes dangers long before political scientists and policymakers do. Great novels do more than tell stories; they diagnose the weaknesses of societies and warn of the consequences of ignoring them. 

In Pakistan’s case, two remarkable works, ‘Ice-Candy-Man’ by Bapsi Sidhwa and ‘Things Fall Apart’ by Chinua Achebe, offer enduring lessons about institutional decay, social fragmentation, and the failure of leadership to adapt to changing realities.

Sidhwa’s portrayal of Partition is not simply a narrative about the division of territory. It is a powerful account of the collapse of social trust and the breakdown of communities that had coexisted for generations. 

Political decisions made far from ordinary people’s lives triggered violence, fear, and displacement. Institutions proved unable to contain the crisis, and the social fabric gradually unraveled.

 The novel reminds us that civilizations rarely collapse overnight; they weaken slowly until the fractures become impossible to repair.

Achebe delivers a similar warning from a different historical and geographical context. In ‘Things Fall Apart’, the tragedy of the Igbo community stems not only from external intervention but also from the inability of traditional institutions to adapt to changing circumstances. 

As established structures lose legitimacy and relevance, society becomes increasingly vulnerable. Eventually, as the famous phrase suggests, “the centre cannot hold.”

Pakistan today is not facing the circumstances depicted in either novel. Yet the underlying lessons remain highly relevant. 

Across the country, there is growing dissatisfaction with governance, increasing political polarization, declining public trust in institutions, and recurring cycles of instability. These developments do not indicate the imminent collapse of democracy. 

Rather, they reflect a deeper problem: institutional fatigue.

For decades, Pakistan’s parliamentary system has provided the framework for democratic governance. However, persistent coalition politics, frequent political confrontations, shifting alliances, and governance discontinuity have generated legitimate concerns about its effectiveness. 

Governments change, assemblies dissolve, and political actors rotate through power, yet many structural challenges remain unresolved. Economic uncertainty, administrative inefficiency, and inconsistent policymaking continue to undermine public confidence.

It is within this context that discussions about a presidential system have gained renewed attention. Supporters argue that a presidential model could offer greater executive stability, clearer lines of accountability, and stronger policy continuity. 

Whether one agrees with this proposition or not, the debate itself reveals an important reality: many Pakistanis are searching for institutional alternatives capable of addressing chronic governance deficits.

Yet constitutional engineering alone cannot solve Pakistan’s problems. The real lesson from both Sidhwa and Achebe is that the strength of a society depends less on political labels and more on the effectiveness of its institutions. 

A presidential system without accountability would be no more successful than a parliamentary system without reform.

The renaissance Pakistan needs must begin with institutional strengthening from the ground up. Power cannot remain concentrated in Islamabad and provincial capitals alone. 

It must flow downward to local governments, district administrations, municipal councils, and community-based leadership structures. Democracy becomes meaningful when citizens can influence decisions that directly affect their daily lives.

If Pakistan ever considers a presidential framework, such reform should be accompanied by meaningful decentralization. Authority should not be concentrated further at the top but distributed across multiple layers of governance. 

Local governments must evolve into genuine centers of decision-making rather than administrative extensions of provincial authorities. Elected councils and local institutions should be empowered to manage development, education, public services, and community welfare with greater autonomy and accountability.

Equally important is the role of Pakistan’s youth. As the country’s largest demographic group, young people have the greatest stake in institutional reform and national renewal. A Pakistani renaissance cannot be built solely upon inherited political rivalries and entrenched partisan conflicts. 

It must emerge from civic engagement, policy innovation, democratic participation, and a commitment to accountable governance.

The warnings embedded in ‘Ice-Candy-Man’ and ‘Things Fall Apart’ are not predictions of inevitable failure. Rather, they caution that societies weaken when institutions lose relevance and leaders ignore emerging cracks. 

Strong nations endure not because they avoid challenges, but because they reform before those challenges become crises.

Pakistan stands at a crossroads where reform is no longer a matter of preference but of necessity. The central question is not whether democracy should survive, it must. 

The real question is whether Pakistan’s democratic architecture can evolve in time, before the cracks in the window become fractures in the foundation.

The author is a humanitarian and development professional based in Bajaur.

The article is the writer’s opinion, it may or may not adhere to the organization’s editorial policy.

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