Pakistan’s Parliament and the Conflict of Interest Trap

The original article, "Parliament and Conflict of Interest," was published in The News International on September 1, 2025. This version is slightly different than the printed one.

When Pakistanis complain that parliament serves the powerful rather than the people, they are not being cynical; they are pointing to a painful truth. This weakness is most glaring in Pakistan’s Standing Committees of the Senate and National Assembly, where oversight often collapses into opportunity.

The credibility of our democracy is undermined when lawmakers with direct business stakes sit in judgment over policies and projects from which they stand to gain. This weakness is most glaring in Pakistan’s Standing Committees of the Senate and National Assembly, where oversight often collapses into opportunity. A recent case involving the National Highway Authority (NHA) and a donor-funded project has brought these concerns into sharp focus.

I write this not just as a commentator but as someone who has formally raised the matter with the Senate itself. In a recent letter to the chairman of the Senate of Pakistan, I highlighted how a member of parliament was actively intervening in a major procurement despite his own family and business ties in the related sector. In that letter, submitted under Rule 16 and Rule 17 of the Senate Rules of Procedure and Conduct of Business, 2012, I urged the chairman to exercise his authority to initiate an impartial inquiry and, pending its outcome, to recuse the concerned member from committees linked to infrastructure development. As I wrote then:

“Without clear rules on disclosures, recusals, and oversight, the credibility of our parliamentary committees stands compromised. Parliament must not only legislate for the people but also be seen as free from private gain.”

At the center of this controversy lies the Trance-III of the Central Asian Regional Economic Cooperation (CAREC) Corridor Project, a Rs.146 billion NHA initiative funded by the Asian Development Bank (ADB). The procurement process spanned 18 months and involved not only NHA’s rigorous technical evaluations but also ADB’s due diligence at every stage. Ultimately, the contract was awarded to Ningxia Communication Construction Co. Ltd, a Chinese state-owned enterprise. Their bid was Rs.13.2 billion lower than competing offers, securing both technical clearance and financial approval. Among the losing bidders were ZKB Engineers & Constructors, linked to Senator Ahmed Khan, and Matracon Pakistan Private Limited, owned by Senator Abdul Qadir, both parliamentarians. Once these firms failed to secure any of the four packages, a campaign began to discredit the winning consortium. For the past several months, a member of the Senate’s Communications Committee has pressed the National Highways Authority (NHA) to cancel the award and re-tender the project under the banner of “transparency” and “accountability.”

What is being presented as accountability is, in reality, harassment of institutions. This was not a flawed procurement; it was one of the most closely scrutinized in Pakistan’s history. After NHA’s clearance, Asian Development Bank (ADB) carried out its own assessments and gave final approval. The NHA Executive Board also ratified the award. To question the integrity of a process vetted both nationally and internationally is to undermine Pakistan’s ability to deliver large-scale infrastructure. If this procurement is scrapped, Pakistan faces enormous risks. ADB is likely to cancel the loan, creating a Rs.150 billion hole. Without donor financing, the government would be forced to attempt execution under the Public Sector Development Programme (PSDP), something unfeasible in the current fiscal climate. Worse, given surging costs in the construction sector, re-tendering could push the project’s price tag almost 100% higher.

Beyond the financial loss, the reputational damage would be grave. A Chinese state-owned firm, operating under the very spirit of Pakistan–China friendship, often described as ties between “Iron Brothers”, has been falsely painted as “blacklisted.” This is not only untrue but also reckless, sending the wrong signal to Beijing and other international lenders. Such behavior tells investors that Pakistan cannot guarantee the sanctity of contracts, discouraging future financing at a time when the country can least afford it. When partners who have stood with Pakistan for decades are subjected to such unfair treatment, it erodes trust and undermines the very spirit of cooperation that has long defined our bilateral relationship.

The deeper issue is structural. For years, Pakistan’s infrastructure sector has been dominated by a small group of politically connected companies, often accused of cartel-style pooled bidding. The entry of a competitive foreign state-owned firm disrupts this arrangement. In the case cited above, if the current award is upheld, it could open the market to new players, forcing entrenched companies to compete fairly. That, more than anything else, explains the resistance. By using parliamentary committees as leverage to force a re-tender, vested interests are not protecting transparency; they are protecting their cartel. This is precisely why conflict-of-interest safeguards are essential.

This is not the first time Pakistan has suffered from such capture. The sugar crisis of 2020 revealed the power of industry cartels backed by political clout. The government’s inquiry commission showed how leading political families, across both treasury and opposition benches, reaped windfalls through subsidies, manipulated pricing, and favourable export policies. At the same time, some of these figures sat on parliamentary committees with oversight over commerce and industry. What resulted was not impartial scrutiny but regulatory accommodation. Consumers were left to bear inflated prices, while cartels consolidated their dominance.

The media industry presents another case study. Pakistan’s television sector is dominated by a handful of families and groups, some of whom have also had representation in parliament. When lawmakers with direct stakes in TV channels or networks participate in drafting or shaping PEMRA regulations, broadcasting policies, or advertising rules, the conflict of interest is obvious. How can those profiting from media monopolies fairly regulate competition, ownership concentration, or ethical standards? Instead of a level playing field, the result has been further concentration, with regulatory frameworks bent to protect incumbents. The erosion of media diversity and independence, in turn, undermines public trust and democracy itself.

Taken together, the sugar cartels, the media monopolies, the real estate empires, and now the infrastructure contracts, Pakistan’s problem is systemic. Conflicts of interest pervade parliamentary decision-making, distorting both policy and perception. Citizens see parliament not as their representative forum but as an exclusive club of businessmen legislating for themselves. The risks are not only economic but also political. Each scandal chips away at the legitimacy of democratic institutions, fueling cynicism and disengagement.

Pakistan does have relevant laws, but they fall short. Article 63(1)(d) of the constitution disqualifies a member who holds “an office of profit in the service of Pakistan”. Article 63(1)(o) extends this to members whose dependents are employed by statutory bodies. Yet both clauses are narrowly applied to government service, not to sprawling family-owned enterprises or contracting firms. The Elections Act, 2017 (Section 137) requires lawmakers to declare assets, while Section 111 allows for suspension or disqualification for false declarations. But there is no provision barring participation in legislation or oversight linked to those business interests.

Parliament’s own rules attempt to plug the gap but remain toothless. Rule 227 of the National Assembly’s Rules of Procedure requires members to declare any personal interest before speaking. Rule 187 of the Senate Rules of Procedure, 2012, carries the same obligation. Yet in practice, there is no independent ethics commissioner, no investigative body and no enforceable penalties. It is, at best, a gentleman’s agreement.

Cases like CAREC demonstrate the urgent need for reform. Instead of celebrating the successful conclusion of a competitive, donor-approved bidding process, vested interests are pushing to sabotage it. The immediate loss could be financial, but the longer-term cost is reputational, eroding Pakistan’s ability to partner credibly with international financiers and foreign governments. Add to this the examples of sugar and media cartels, and the picture is clear: Pakistan’s parliament cannot continue to legislate in areas where lawmakers or their families are beneficiaries.

If Pakistan is to repair its democratic fabric, clear boundaries must be drawn. Asset and business disclosures must be expanded to cover spouses, children, and nominee arrangements. A recusal mechanism must bar lawmakers from deliberating on sectors where they or their families have commercial ties. Most importantly, parliament must establish an independent Ethics Commission with investigative powers and enforceable sanctions. This is not just about legality; it is about legitimacy.

Citizens deserve confidence that public representatives are serving the national interest, not their own. When oversight bodies are hijacked for business gain, democracy becomes self-dealing. Unless Pakistan confronts conflicts of interest decisively, its parliament will continue to look more like a boardroom than a legislature. A democracy where lawmakers legislate for themselves cannot be called a democracy at all.

The writer is a public policy expert and leads the Country Partner Institute of the World Economic Forum in Pakistan. He tweets/posts @amirjahangir and can be reached at: aj@mishal.com.pk