Dr Shabana Safdar Khan
A freak hailstorm that struck northern Pakistan on Wednesday brought devastating consequences—lives lost, property damaged, and crops destroyed. But beyond the immediate destruction, it served as another jarring reminder that Pakistan is now living in a state of permanent climate emergency. With social media flooded by images of golf ball-sized hailstones smashing through windshields, flattening solar panels in Islamabad, and flash floods disrupting critical infrastructure like the Peshawar-Torkham Highway, the message is clear: this is no longer an anomaly. It’s the new normal.
April 2025 has become yet another month of chaotic climate swings that defy historical patterns. Just days before the hailstorm, Pakistan’s Meteorological Department warned of an extreme heatwave sweeping across Sindh and Balochistan, with temperatures expected to spike 6°C to 8°C above seasonal norms. Meanwhile, drought conditions persist in southern Punjab and interior Sindh, fueling fears of poor wheat harvests and rising food insecurity. And now, what little remained of standing crops in KP and parts of Punjab has been battered by strong winds and hail.
Pakistan is not merely experiencing bad weather. It is trapped in an increasingly violent cycle of climate volatility—an unpredictable, punishing oscillation between drought, extreme heat, and destructive storms. These extremes aren’t just a statistical curiosity or seasonal variation; they are signs of deep climate imbalance that threaten the economic, social, and environmental fabric of the country.
To make matters worse, the international political climate is shifting in the wrong direction. Where once there was momentum toward global cooperation on climate finance and clean energy, we now see regression and indifference. The recent pullback by the United States from major climate finance commitments has dealt a particularly heavy blow to developing countries like Pakistan, which are among the most climate-vulnerable despite contributing the least to global greenhouse gas emissions.
For Pakistan, this retreat is more than a diplomatic disappointment—it’s a direct threat to national resilience. Hopes for international funding to strengthen climate defenses, invest in clean energy, and modernize infrastructure are fading fast. Without that support, Pakistan is left scrambling to address disasters with inadequate resources, outdated systems, and little room for error.
Adding to the crisis is the global fossil fuel rebound. As fossil fuel prices decline, countries are doubling down on oil and gas. Media reports suggest a $200 billion surge in new LNG (liquefied natural gas) projects globally—moves that will lock in high emissions for decades and undermine the very climate goals that nations claim to support. For Pakistan, this signals a longer-term risk: a world increasingly unwilling to transition away from the very systems that are driving its devastation.
Internally, Pakistan’s response to climate chaos is mired in dysfunction. A glaring example is the intensifying water dispute between Punjab and Sindh over the Cholistan canal project. This isn’t just a political spat—it reflects a deeper failure to manage and share the country’s critical water resources equitably. With water levels at the Tarbela and Mangla reservoirs dangerously low, the urgency of fair and sustainable water governance cannot be overstated.
This infighting comes at a time when Pakistan’s agricultural output is under siege. Droughts, unpredictable rainfall, and hailstorms are eroding the country’s food security, leaving farmers with fewer resources and less predictability. Without reforming our irrigation and crop planning practices, we risk turning once-fertile regions into unproductive wastelands. What we’re witnessing isn’t just environmental deterioration—it’s an impending humanitarian and economic crisis.
It’s time for a harsh but necessary reckoning: Pakistan cannot afford to wait for external salvation. The era of relying on broken promises from wealthier nations is over. Climate change is already here, already reshaping our lives, and it will continue to do so with greater intensity. That means the responsibility for action falls squarely on the state—and time is not on our side.
What’s needed is an urgent overhaul of the country’s climate response strategy. This begins with updating Pakistan’s national climate action plan to reflect the realities of today—not the outdated assumptions of a decade ago. Improved forecasting systems must be developed to better anticipate extreme events. Early warning mechanisms must reach even the most remote communities. Climate-smart agriculture, based on sustainable water use and crop resilience, must be implemented immediately.
Water conservation must become a national priority. Pakistan wastes enormous volumes of water each year through inefficient irrigation and poor infrastructure. Reforming water use—especially in agriculture, which consumes the lion’s share—is no longer optional. It’s a matter of survival.
Urban centers also need a climate resilience makeover. The damage from hailstorms and floods is magnified by poor urban planning, weak drainage systems, and unregulated construction. Local governments must be empowered and equipped to build climate-resilient infrastructure that can withstand both floods and droughts.
The scale of the threat demands more than technocratic fixes—it requires a complete shift in how we view climate change. It is no longer just an environmental issue. It is a national security threat, an economic emergency, and a humanitarian crisis all rolled into one.
If these cascading disasters continue unchecked, they will destabilize communities, damage the economy, and spark social unrest. Climate refugees are no longer a distant possibility—they are already a reality in parts of southern Pakistan. Rising temperatures and erratic weather will only worsen migration pressures and resource conflicts across the country.
This is not a problem for future generations. It is happening now. And unless Pakistan adapts decisively and rapidly, the cost will be staggering.
Despite the grim outlook, there is still a window of opportunity—if action is taken urgently and decisively. The Pakistani state must treat climate adaptation and mitigation not as fringe policy issues but as national imperatives woven into every level of planning and governance. Coordination between provinces, between the center and the periphery, and between the public and private sectors is crucial.
Public awareness must also be raised. Climate literacy needs to be embedded into school curriculums, media campaigns, and community-level education programs. Every citizen should understand the stakes and their role in the solution.
Pakistan cannot fight this battle alone, but it must be ready to lead its own defense. Waiting for a lifeline that may never come is not a strategy—it’s a surrender. The climate emergency is real, it’s accelerating, and it’s changing everything. The only question left is whether we will change with it—before it’s too late.
