Asif Mahmood 

The moment the news of yet another petrol price hike broke, the first instinct was not outrage but inquiry. Was there really no room for relief? Could the government have done more? In a deeply polarized environment, opinions abound, but credibility is scarce. Who should one trust? My first thought turned to Shahid Khaqan Abbasi. One might also consider Miftah Ismail, but some of his past assessments have felt detached from ground realities. Abbasi, on the other hand, presents a different case. No longer bound by party lines, often critical of his own former political camp, measured in tone, and well-versed in economic matters, he is not easily swayed by the hysteria of politics. A quick look at X revealed his stance. He pointed out that even during the Gulf War between Kuwait and Iraq, petrol prices in Pakistan had doubled, despite it being a limited regional conflict. Today’s situation, he argued, is far more complex, involving multiple regional players and major global powers. In such circumstances, sustaining a weekly subsidy of 60 billion rupees was simply not feasible, especially when it benefitted both the rich and the poor alike. The price increase, therefore, was not a choice but a compulsion to prevent further strain on the economy. More strikingly, he noted that despite rising prices, petrol consumption had increased by 19 percent over the past year, raising uncomfortable questions about our collective habits. Still, doubts lingered. I reached out to a former petroleum secretary, a seasoned professional who had long dealt with the intricacies of the sector. Setting politics aside, I posed a simple question: if Pakistani oil shipments are not being blocked in the Strait of Hormuz, and our tankers are passing through, what justifies the price hike? His answer was sobering. Petroleum pricing, he explained, is not determined merely by whether ships pass or not. It is shaped by a web of global factors. If oil prices rise internationally, they rise for Pakistan as well. If tensions escalate in critical chokepoints like the Strait of Hormuz, shipping costs increase. Insurance premiums go up, regardless of whether a particular shipment faces immediate danger or not. Add to this the fluctuation of the dollar, and the equation becomes even more unforgiving. Yet, another question remained: could the government not reduce its taxes? At the very least, could it refrain from increasing them? The response was pragmatic. Yes, it could. But is it in a position to defy the International Monetary Fund? The prevailing understanding is that removing subsidies is an IMF requirement. And the risk still looms that additional taxes, such as GST, may be imposed, pushing prices even higher. The government’s position is that it has done what it could. One may agree or disagree, but a hard truth remains: Pakistan’s economy is too fragile to absorb such shocks while simultaneously offering meaningful relief. In such a scenario, the burden inevitably shifts to the public. This is where responsibility must replace rhetoric. Carpooling is no longer a lifestyle choice but a necessity. Unnecessary travel must be curtailed. Wasteful consumption of electricity and fuel must end. Simplicity is no longer virtuous alone; it is essential. This is not a moment for complaint but for collective discipline. Change must begin at home, in our habits, in our choices. Even small adjustments, if made collectively, can yield significant results. The people of Pakistan have historically demonstrated resilience in times of crisis. Today demands the same spirit. We must reduce excess, conserve energy, and stand with the country to navigate through this difficult phase. The truth, however, is deeper and more unsettling. We have not really experienced war. We have only heard its distant echoes, debated it on social media, and reduced it to hashtags and opinions. We imagine war as a spectacle, something that happens elsewhere, to others. Even Donald Trump once seemed to believe that war was merely about overpowering the adversary. The Western world, too, long treated it as a tool imposed upon weaker nations. But realities are shifting. Iran has forced a reconsideration. It has reminded the world that war is not an abstraction. It is disruption. It is cost. It is consequence. It reshapes economies, rattles markets, and reverberates far beyond battlefields. If James Carroll were to sum it up, he might simply say: It’s the war, stupid.