IN the absence of an uncontested theory on the subject, most people use three incredibly basic markers to determine an outline of what we so casually refer to as ‘the state’.

These include: territorial coherence, in so far that other countries recognise a defined set of geographic boundaries; monopoly over legitimate violence within those boundaries, where legitimacy is being granted through a constitution, public mandate, or traditional inheritance; and finally the authority to raise money, ie the state is different from corporations in that it doesn’t function on profit motives, and is different from NGOs because it doesn’t work on endowments/charity.

The ability to extract money from a given population is a defining part of the contemporary state, and without which political order, as we understand it, would simply not be possible.

The Pakistani state suffers from deficiencies in all three defining aspects. With several disputed borders, escalating levels of violence exercised by a wide variety of groups, and a complete inability to raise resources, there’s little surprise why the term ‘failing’ or ‘failed’ is used so often.

The problem though is that such blanket terms, coupled with constant alarmism, aren’t very useful for analytical or prescriptive purposes. More so, while we do have plenty of commentary on violence and sovereignty, there’s very little on why the state fails in the rather mundane task of extracting resources for development needs.

A common explanation, one fairly popular amongst technocrats and governance reformers, is that this is down to the failure of the bureaucracy. The self-serving, incompetent mandarins on the state’s wage bill simply don’t work hard enough to catch tax evaders, and use their professional positions to garner rents from the private sector.

This, in all likelihood, is true. There is massive leakage within every level of government, and the bureaucracy has become less ‘rules-based’ and far more arbitrary in its exercise of authority over the last three decades — an outcome that is often accredited to the ‘politicisation’ of public-sector employment.

The aforementioned analysis, while useful for certain reform approaches, doesn’t quite capture the overall fragmentation of political and economic space in Pakistan over the same time period. If public-sector employment and policymaking is politicised and self-serving, that in itself is surely an outcome of certain changes in Pakistan’s political economy.

To demonstrate this fragmentation, it is useful to refer to three fairly recent events — all of which were fairly public in their existence, had definitive policy consequences, and received varying amounts of media attention.

The first of these was the strike called by the United Goods Transporters’ Alliance (UGTA) in Karachi, which disrupted logistical flows for nearly two weeks, resulted in perishable commodity shortages in several parts of the country, and contributed to a rapid increase in hoarding by produce wholesalers.

The basic list of demands put forth by the Alliance was varied — it included complaints against security agency harassment, less intrusion by government officials in day-to-day activities, and most pertinent of all, the revision of the advance income tax rate on vehicle capacity.

After 12 days of protracted negotiations, posturing, and a loss of nearly Rs24 billion to the economy, the finance minister met the UGTA leadership and brought down the taxation rate from Rs5 per kilogramme, set by the government in May 2013, to Rs2 per kilo through a special notification.

Later on, in this sordid chain of events, and in an effort to placate those lobbies angered by the UGTA’s strike — notably the textile exporters and perishable commodity traders — the minister for ports and shipping announced that the government was waiving demurrage charges at various ports in the country, “keeping in mind the hardships faced by the business community over the past two weeks”.

The second event received far less media attention, but is equally indicative of the government’s straitjacketed existence. Over the last year, covert lobbying efforts by the Toiletries, Perfumeries and Cosmetics Manufacturers Association resulted in the issuance of an SRO that removed import duties and taxes worth Rs2bn.

It turned out that relevant quarters in the finance ministry were not fully aware of this particular exemption, and that this was a result of collusion between Federal Board of Revenue officials, lobbyists and another set of politicians.

Finally, the third event was a long-standing tussle between the Kissan Board (and other groups representing big farmers), and the Flour Millers Association over the government’s wheat policy.

The former wanted an increase of at least Rs250 in the support price of wheat — a particular subsidy that is quite useful for big farmers — while the latter wanted the price to remain constant at Rs1,250.

After several weeks of lobbying, public and secretive mobilisation and loud reminders of what the PML-N had promised these respective groups in the run-up to the elections, the government’s agricultural committee decided that it would side with the millers. The Kissan Board, at the time of writing, had responded to this decision with a call for countrywide protests.

These three disparate events highlight how the state is constantly being pushed and pulled in contradictory directions. The relative weakness of mainstream political parties — especially in their ability to retain a degree of policy autonomy from financiers and economic interest groups — translates directly into a curtailed and restrictive policy environment in government.

Perhaps the most worrying part is that these associations and lobbies, nearly all of which represent quick-buck capitalists and rent-seeking profiteers of varying size, appear to be gaining strength. While violence and territorial infringements plague the Pakistani state in very obvious ways, rampant rent-seeking practices and economic fragmentation pose a less obvious, but highly dangerous threat as well.

The writer is a PhD candidate at the London School of Economics.

umairjaved@gmail.com