Who's afraid of the census?
The signs are ominous: Sindh, which till very recently has been euphoric over the census, now fears that it may not be able to count all its citizens in time.
The chief minister was recently informed that more than 30 per cent of the province’s population is without computerised national identity cards (CNICs).
With less than two months left to the scheduled date of the census, this spells doom for Sindh: its expected gains from an anticipated rise in population numbers is now at stake.
The other end of the spectrum is absolute denunciation and ire: in Balochistan, Mir Hasil Bizenjo, the chief of the National Party and the incumbent federal minister for ports and shipping, argued last December that the census should be put off in Balochistan and KP till “4 million Afghan refugees” return to Afghanistan and all the Baloch who have gone into exile return, else the Baloch population will be under-reported.
Clearly, emotions are running high and there are still qualms about how the entire exercise of counting heads and homes will pan out.
The resistance to holding a census is indicated by the fact that it took the Supreme Court to push the government into ensuring that it is finally carried out.
Population counts ought to happen every 10 years. The scheduled date of the census as announced by the PM’s office and ratified by the Council of Common Interests is March 15, 2007.
As such, while the necessity of holding a population and housing census seems uncontested, holding it to all stakeholders’ convenience has proven to be almost always impossible.
Were any provinces to pull out now on any pretext, the entire exercise would be rendered meaningless as the numbers would be incomplete and fraught with inaccuracies.
For scholars, planners and decision-makers of the country, the population census holds the key to explaining what has changed in the country since 1998 — when the census was held last — and how much has changed.
Instead of relying on estimates and guesstimates, the results of the census will show urbanisation trends, inter-provincial and intra-provincial migration, the gender configuration, the (un)employed population and educational attainment.
Voices of dissent are once again being raised about a constitutional requirement. Once again, an exercise that ought to have been conducted nine years ago hangs in the balance. The question remains...
There will be some direct indicators about health and poverty but also some indirect ones that will help paint a larger, more revealing picture. There will be statistics about homes built and the homeless, of lighting and potable water, the number of transgender, the physically challenged and above all, how many mouths to feed in the country.
From a citizens’ perspective, a census is always a win-win. Which begs the question: who really is afraid of the census?
Punjab
The fears are quite palpable in the corridors of power in Punjab: its populationpcage share might well drop if the contested figures posted after the 2011 housing census are taken into account (see data on Page 2).
The pitfall, however, is that the 2011 housing census has already drawn criticism from various quarters for massive inaccuracies.
The new population count may well result in the reduction of Punjab’s seats in the National Assembly, transferring them to another federating unit. The census may also have an impact on jobs.
Population has of course been Punjab’s claim to the lion’s share of power and resources in the country. With the province witnessing enormous social and economic changes over the past 18 years, its population growth rate has consequently slowed down.
In the previous census, a slower per annum growth rate was recorded in Punjab (2.64pc) than in Sindh (2.80pc).
Were the trend to continue 19 years later, it will have a very direct impact on Punjab: the new population count may well result in the reduction of Punjab’s seats in the National Assembly, transferring them to another federating unit.
Out of the 272 general seats, Punjab currently has 148 seats or 54.4pc. Sindh is next with 61 seats (22.4pc), followed by Khyber Pakhtunkhwa with 35 (12.9pc) and then by Balochistan with 14(5.1pc).
There are 12 seats (4.4pc) currently representing the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (Fata) while the federal capital has two general seats or 0.7pc representation.
Any decrease in Punjab’s seats will result in one or more of the others benefitting.
The census may also have an impact on quotas in jobs and the distribution of the federal divisible pool (FDP) funds through the National Finance Commission (NFC).
Already, the federal government is seeking a sixpc cut in the size of the FDP.
If this proposal goes through, an additional 250 billion rupees will be transferred to the centre at the cost of the provincial share.
With stiff resistance from Sindh and Balochistan, any hopes of a new NFC award being agreed upon before the national budget for 2017-18 remain slim.
Punjab is reported to have reservations but would happily accept the proposal of following the existing 9th NFC Award formula — this would ensure that newer population realities are not accurately reflected in the new NFC award.
Are the power-brokers of Punjab apprehensive of the change coming with the census? Yes.
But an equally pertinent question is: are the Sharif brothers afraid of the census?
The answer to that question might also be yes.
Nobody wants to disturb their power base a few months before the elections.
Punjab’s elite
Power is derived from land in Punjab but land is no longer available as large landholdings.
According to the Agricultural Census, 2010 which was carried out by the Pakistan Bureau of Statistics (PBS), only 20pc of private landholdings in the country were above 100 acres.
In Punjab, only 9pc of private landholdings were above 100 acres.
But it isn’t just land that is weakening the hold of the Punjabi landlord.
The road network being built in the province by the Sharifs has dented traditional social hierarchies and connected many in the rural sector to nearby cities and commercial centres.
This, in turn, has resulted in those people carrying urban values back to the village and impacting others there.
The rise in education numbers over the past 18 years as well as the slower population growth are both results of proliferating urban attitudes.
With Lahore’s share of the urban population of Punjab going down even further, questions may validly be raised about the disproportionate resources allocated to the provincial capital.
Simultaneously, the number of urban centres, their size and their sprawl has also increased in Punjab.
Smaller centres such as Gujranwala have now seen unprecedented growth and investment.
As reported in the 1981 census, Pakistan’s urban sprawl was 28.3pc (total reported population 84.25 million) whereas in 1998, the figure rose to 32.5pc (total reported population 132.35 million). This is expected to climb even further in 2017.
It is also important to note that the urban growth rate was much higher than the rural growth rate in both 1981 and 1998.
The urban growth rate in 1981 was 4.38pc and the rural was 2.58pc; the corresponding numbers for 1998 are 3.5pc and 2.2pc respectively. In the 1998 census, Sindh appeared to be the most urbanised province (48.9pc) but Punjab whose urban population is pegged at 31.3pc in the same census has the largest number of urban dwellers.
Lahore’s population as registered in the 1998 census is 6,318,745 — only 8.6pc of the overall urban population of Punjab.
With Lahore’s share of the urban population of Punjab going down even further, questions may validly be raised about the disproportionate resources allocated to the provincial capital at the expense of the rest of Punjab.
With the profound socio-economic changes that are taking place in the rural areas and small towns of Pakistan, and particularly in Punjab, it can safely be concluded the trend of urbanisation may appear to consolidate itself in the upcoming census.
Who shall lose out in this new configuration? Those who derive power from land as well as the Lahore elite.
Punjab’s bureaucracy
For many years, Punjab’s bureaucracy has enjoyed great privilege and perks in return for facilitating those who derived power from land.
If the 2017 census goes ahead as planned, the bureaucracy’s workings will have to change dramatically since they will no longer be set up to serve only the landed elite of the province.
In practice, this means that Punjab’s bureaucrats will have to reconfigure the rural-urban divide in the province and make policies afresh.
For example, the Punjab government has revamped its health infrastructure and claims to be offering great
The 2017 census, in all probability, will redefine the demographic composition of Karachi with far-reaching impact on the politics of Karachi and in turn Sindh.
remuneration packages for young doctors in the province.
Many argue, however, that the doctors are largely after the jobs on offer in urban centres and the government has been unable to push highly-trained professionals into semi-urban and rural areas.
Crucially for Punjab, though, the inter-provincial water accord will have to be reworked since the province’s current share in agriculture will need to be reassessed.
Due to population variance in central and southern Punjab, we may also see relations between the two get strained.
In Pakistan, policy has largely had an anti-poor bias and Punjab has been no exception.
The road transportation network has been developed to suit the city’s commuting needs rather than improve the lot of its under-privileged dwellers.
In theory, policy objectives are to prioritise socio-economic development in various administrate units but in practice, housing and food remain at the bottom rung of government priorities.
But for these to become pressing concerns, someone will have to give up their existing privileges and perks.
In Punjab, this burden is likely to be shouldered by its bureaucracy and hence the reluctance to have a housing and population census conducted afresh.