Gas, hydel and an unfinished constitutional promise

Pakistan's Constitution does not leave the question of natural resources to chance. It speaks clearly, even forcefully, about who should benefit from them. Yet, when it comes to implementation, clarity has often given way to contradiction. Consider the broader spirit behind Articles 158 and 161 of the Constitution of Pakistan, 1973. Both provisions were shaped by a hard lesson in Pakistan's history: provinces must not feel alienated from the resources extracted from their own soil. One deals with gas, the other with water, but together, they form a single constitutional promise of fairness.

Article 158 lays down the principle in unmistakable terms: "The Province in which a well-head of natural gas is situated shall have precedence over other parts of Pakistan in meeting the requirements from that well-head…". It is a simple idea, priority of use. If gas comes out of your land, your needs come first. And yet, reality tells a different story. Gas-producing provinces like Sindh, Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa continue to face shortages while large volumes are consumed elsewhere. Courts have repeatedly upheld the constitutional position, affirming that local needs must be met first. But these rulings have struggled to translate into actual policy. Appeals remain pending, decisions remain delayed and the status quo remains intact.

If Article 158 is about priority, Article 161(2) is about profit. It states: "The net profits earned by the Federal Government, or any undertaking established or administered by the Federal Government, from the bulk generation of power at a hydro-electric station shall be paid to the Province in which the hydro-electric station is situated." Again, the principle is straightforward. Provinces that host hydropower projects should receive a fair share of the returns. But here too, agreement on principle has not led to agreement on practice. The dispute over Net Hydel Profit has lingered for decades, largely because no consensus exists on how to calculate "net profits." In the early 1990s, an attempt was made to resolve this through the Kazi Committee, formed to develop a workable formula. Its recommendations, approved by the Council of Common Interests (CCI) in 1991, were meant to settle the matter. Provinces, particularly KP, still consider this formula binding. The Federal Government, however, argues that the formula belongs to another era, one that does not reflect today's energy realities. With rising costs, system inefficiencies and a changing energy mix, officials warn that applying it now could destabilise the power sector. And so, much like the issue of gas distribution, the country finds itself stuck. Interim arrangements replace permanent solutions. Committees replace decisions. And constitutional guarantees remain only partially fulfilled.

What connects these two issues, gas and hydel profit, is not just Articles of the Constitution but a deeper pattern. In both cases, the Constitution provides a clear direction. It identifies who should benefit and, broadly, how. But the institutions responsible for implementing these provisions, the CCI, the Federal Government and even the courts, have struggled to carry that clarity forward.

The result is more than just a technical dispute. It is a question of trust. And that erosion of trust does not remain confined to policy rooms in Islamabad; it filters down to people. In provinces like KP, Sindh and Balochistan, repeated delays and perceived denial of constitutional rights breed disappointment. The disappointment often turns into resentment towards the Federal Government and at times, towards people of other provinces who are seen as beneficiaries of an unfair arrangement. When constitutional guarantees appear hollow, national belonging begins to weaken at the edges.

The Constitution, in both cases, has already done the difficult work of principle-setting. What remains undone is the equally important task of execution. Because in the end, a federation is not held together by words alone but by the confidence that those words will be honoured. When that confidence falters, the cost is not just economic or political, it is deeply human - shaping how citizens see the state and each other.