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Pakistan’s New Provinces: The Referendum and Constitutional Question

Pakistan's New Provinces: The Referendum and Constitutional Question

by Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal

Every few years the idea of carving new provinces out of the old resurfaces in Pakistan’s politics, usually with great enthusiasm and little detail. This time it returns at a moment when the state is confronted with multiple challenges and stark regional disparities. What was once political rhetoric has acquired constitutional and institutional weight. A country with a swollen population and ever greater demands upon its public administration may fairly ask whether its provincial map still serves it. But how the question is answered will matter as much as the answer itself. Reform pursued carelessly may feeble the federation rather than fortify it.

Interior Minister Mohsin Naqvi has repeatedly floated a referendum as a means of gauging public opinion. Defence Minister Khawaja Asif has endorsed the possibility of as many as 12 provinces, insisting that administrative convenience, not ethnicity or language, should be the guiding principle. The proposals reportedly under discussion envisage four units in Punjab, three each in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan, and two in Sindh. Behind them lies a reasonable suspicion that a country of Pakistan’s size has outgrown its present arrangements.

Yet a referendum is no constitutional shortcut, and the country’s own history counsels caution. In July 1947, the people of the North-West Frontier Province voted on whether to join India or Pakistan. Roughly 99 per cent of the votes cast favoured Pakistan, though turnout was only about 51 per cent, the Congress and the Khudai Khidmatgar, led by Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan, having boycotted the exercise in favour of other arrangements. Earlier that month, Sylhet had voted on whether to join East Bengal or remain in Assam. A majority chose East Bengal, and most of the district went to Pakistan under the Radcliffe Award.

Later referendums were of a very different character. In 1960, Field Marshal Ayub Khan sought a vote of confidence from some 80,000 Basic Democrats and duly received overwhelming support. General Zia-ul-Haq’s referendum of December 1984 tied approval of his Islamization program to his continuation in office for five more years. The official result claimed about 98.5 per cent in favour, but the opposition boycotted the poll and questioned the turnout. General Pervez Musharraf’s referendum of April 2002 yielded a claimed majority approaching 98 per cent, amid allegations of widespread irregularities from opposition parties and independent observers alike.

The legacy is an unhappy one. Rather than maturing into an accepted instrument of democratic consultation, the referendum became a device by which military rulers obtained a veneer of legitimacy, and it was discredited by boycotts, disputed participation and charges of manipulation. Any proposal to revive it must therefore be judged not only by its constitutional permissibility but by the credibility, neutrality and transparency of the process.

The constitutional record is no less instructive. The 1973 Constitution, as originally framed, contained no referendum mechanism. In May 1977, the Seventh Amendment briefly inserted Article 96-A, allowing the prime minister to seek a vote of confidence from the people. It was never invoked and vanished in the upheaval of July 1977. The more durable provision arrived through the Revival of the Constitution of 1973 Order, 1985, which added clauses (6) and (7) to Article 48. The Eighteenth Amendment later reshaped it: the prime minister may now refer a matter of national importance to a joint sitting of parliament and, if it is approved, put it to the people in a yes-or-no referendum regulated by law.

That provision, however, should not be confused with a procedure for creating new provinces. Article 1 names the constituent territories of the federation, while Article 239 prescribes how the Constitution may be amended. Any change affecting provincial boundaries needs a two-thirds majority of the total membership of both the National Assembly and the Senate. More crucially, Article 239(4) forbids presenting to the president any amendment that alters the limits of a province unless the provincial assembly concerned has approved it by a two-thirds majority of its total membership.

This safeguard lies at the heart of the federal compact. It denies the center the power to redraw the territory of a constituent unit on its own. A referendum may reveal public sentiment and lend political momentum, but it cannot stand in for the consent Article 239 demands. Even an overwhelming popular verdict cannot compel a provincial assembly to surrender its territory.

Political realities complicate matters further. The Pakistan Peoples Party has consistently opposed the division of Sindh, holding that its boundaries cannot be touched without the Sindh Assembly’s consent, a stance rooted in both constitutional principle and anxieties about identity and autonomy. The PML-N has been more guarded, some of its leaders welcoming administrative reform while stressing parliamentary procedure and consensus. The PTI has generally favoured new provinces in principle, though its position on the precise constitutional route is of some consequence. Meaningful progress is hard to imagine without cooperation among these parties. A referendum may be authorised under Article 48, but without the requisite parliamentary majorities and the approval of the affected provincial assembly, Sindh’s above all, it would remain politically weighty yet legally insufficient.

The administrative case for rethinking the provincial structure is not without substance. Punjab’s vast population, Balochistan’s immense geography and the disparities within several regions all raise fair questions about representation and access to public services. Smaller units could bring government closer to the citizen and encourage more balanced development. But new legislatures, secretariats and institutions come at a considerable price, and without careful financial planning, more provinces could mean more bureaucracy rather than better government.

Nor should the alternative be neglected. Article 140-A provides a constitutional basis for devolving political, administrative and financial authority to elected local governments. Properly empowered, they could redress many of the grievances attributed to distant provincial capitals without disturbing a single boundary.

New provinces may yet prove necessary, but they must emerge from national consensus, not political expediency. That requires transparent studies of population, resources, administrative capacity and economic viability, together with firm assurances that the rights of existing provinces will be respected.

The key question is whether Pakistan’s leadership can pursue new provinces constitutionally. A referendum can measure opinion; it cannot replace parliamentary responsibility or provincial consent. A federation draws its strength not from the number of its units but from the trust that binds them. Reform, if it comes, must come through dialogue, consensus and constitutional restraint.






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