A question of conservation
EDITORIAL: The controversy surrounding recent interventions at Mohra Moradu and Sirkap, two archaeological sites within the Taxila World Heritage complex, is escalating.
Unesco has reportedly asked the government to reverse what it considers “reconstructions” that have undermined the authenticity and integrity of these monuments, warning that failure to do so could see Taxila placed on its ‘danger list’ and, ultimately, delisted as a World Heritage Site.
At the heart of the dispute are allegations that original masonry has been replaced with new material and that surviving ancient walls have been raised in height in the name of conservation.
Photographs published in the media appear to show a clear distinction between the ancient stonework and the newer additions.
Unesco’s concerns merit serious attention. International conservation practice does not seek to make archaeological ruins appear complete or aesthetically pleasing; rather, it prioritises preserving a monument’s original fabric through the principle of minimum intervention, ensuring that conservation neither obscures nor replaces authentic historical evidence.
The Punjab archaeology department, however, disputes the characterisation of the work as “reconstruction”, maintaining that the interventions are intended to stabilise vulnerable structures and prevent further deterioration. It also says the work was explained during a recent technical visit by national and international experts. This explanation deserves consideration.
Conservation often involves difficult technical judgments. However, when concerns are raised by the very organisation entrusted with safeguarding the world’s cultural heritage, technical assurances alone do not suffice.
The most appropriate response, therefore, is complete transparency. Unesco has asked for conservation plans, heritage impact assessments, laboratory test reports on the materials used, compatibility studies, archaeological documentation and photographic records before and after the interventions. These should be shared without delay and subjected to independent professional review.
Such openness is essential not only to address Unesco’s concerns but also to strengthen public confidence in the management of Pakistan’s archaeological heritage.
The issue should be approached not as a contest between competing bureaucracies but as an opportunity to ensure that conservation practices conform to the highest professional standards.
The episode also underscores the need for stronger institutional safeguards. Conservation decisions affecting nationally and internationally significant sites should be guided by multidisciplinary expert committees operating under clear protocols aligned with Unesco conventions. Pakistan has witnessed similar controversies before.
The proposed construction of a stadium near Bhir Mound in 1998 threatened another component of the Taxila complex before public opposition forced its abandonment. That episode, like the present one, illustrates how decisions affecting irreplaceable heritage require rigorous scrutiny before, rather than after, they are implemented.
Taxila is more than an archaeological site; it is one of the region’s foremost repositories of human civilisation. Its significance lies not in how complete or visually impressive it appears, but in the authenticity of what has endured through the centuries.
The government’s engagement with Unesco should therefore be guided by one overriding principle: where the integrity of an irreplaceable heritage site is at stake, transparency, scientific conservation and adherence to internationally accepted standards must take precedence over all other considerations.
Waiting for the next flood
EDITORIAL: Another monsoon, another death toll crossing the one hundred mark, another round of emergency meetings, warnings, and rescue operations. By now, this cycle has become painfully familiar.
As Pakistan entered yet another spell of heavy rainfall, the official response once again centred on managing an unfolding disaster rather than demonstrating that lessons from previous years had finally been learned.
The tragedy is no longer that the rains arrive with devastating force. It is that the country continues to prepare for them as though they remain an unexpected event.
That should concern policymakers far more than the weather itself.
Monsoon flooding is not an unforeseen emergency. It is a predictable annual occurrence. Governments know when the rains are likely to arrive, which districts face the greatest danger, where drainage systems repeatedly fail and which communities remain vulnerable to flooding, landslides and house collapses. Yet every year familiar images return: submerged roads, overflowing drains, inundated neighbourhoods, collapsed homes, prolonged power outages and families waiting for rescue after disaster has already struck.
This year has been no different. If anything, it has been worse. More than one hundred people have already lost their lives, while floodwaters continue to affect large parts of Punjab, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Balochistan and Azad Jammu and Kashmir. Entire communities remain under water days after heavy rainfall, infrastructure has suffered extensive damage and emergency services continue responding to crises that should have been anticipated well before the first storm clouds gathered.
There are, admittedly, encouraging signs.
The Punjab irrigation department’s introduction of an artificial intelligence-based reservoir monitoring system reflects a sensible response to India’s continued refusal to share upstream hydrological data. Satellite imagery and geospatial analysis can never fully replace formal treaty-based information sharing, but they at least provide authorities with better situational awareness than they previously possessed. Such innovation deserves recognition because climate adaptation increasingly demands technological solutions alongside conventional infrastructure.
Technology alone, however, cannot compensate for weak governance.
Every monsoon exposes the same institutional shortcomings. Drainage systems remain inadequately maintained. Encroachments continue blocking natural waterways. Construction proceeds in flood-prone areas with little regard for long-term risk. Relief efforts improve only after lives have already been lost. Administrative coordination often strengthens during the emergency itself rather than before it. These failures have accumulated over decades despite repeated commissions, inquiries and promises of reform.
That points towards a deeper problem. Pakistan has no shortage of disaster management plans. It suffers from an absence of legal accountability for implementing them. Government departments routinely announce preparedness measures before every monsoon season, yet there is remarkably little consequence when those preparations prove inadequate. Officials move on, committees are reconstituted and next year’s rains produce another familiar round of explanations.
That culture must change.
The country now needs comprehensive legislation that imposes clear statutory responsibilities on every department involved in flood preparedness. Drainage authorities, municipal administrations, irrigation departments, provincial disaster management authorities and local governments should all operate under legally enforceable obligations rather than discretionary administrative instructions. Deadlines for drain clearance, inspections of vulnerable infrastructure, emergency equipment readiness and floodplain management should become mandatory, independently audited and publicly reported.
Accountability must extend beyond paperwork.
Where official negligence contributes to preventable loss of life or property, responsibility should be clearly established and administrative action should follow. Preparedness cannot remain a public relations exercise measured by meetings held and directives issued. It should be evaluated by outcomes: functioning drainage systems, timely evacuations, protected infrastructure and, above all, lives saved.
Climate change will almost certainly make Pakistan’s monsoon seasons more unpredictable and more destructive in the years ahead. That reality cannot be altered. The country’s preparedness, however, remains entirely within human control.
Pakistan has spent years treating every monsoon as a temporary emergency. It is time to recognise it for what it has become: a permanent governance challenge requiring permanent institutional reform. Until that happens, the country will continue counting casualties after every rainy season while congratulating itself for responding to disasters it should have been far better prepared to prevent.