What hides beneath Covid-19?

How long can Covid-19 continue to provide the proverbial carpet under which we brush some of the more enduring and profound challenges we face? Probably at least until the country hits the peak number of cases, and/or fatalities.

New estimates from the Singapore University of Technology and Design suggest that the pandemic will “end” on the eighth of June this year. A previous estimate shared by Dr Zafar Mirza had predicted a peak of cases by the end of May. The WHO recently expressed fears of over 200,000 infections by July this year. What do all these numbers mean?

In keeping with one of the many themes that I believe the holy month of Ramazan to be designed for, the truth is that nobody knows (the theme in this case being humility). Perhaps this is, at its heart, what troubles us most about the Covid-19 crisis. Our generic certitude about life has been challenged in a profound, and most intimate fashion.

The nano implications of the coronavirus on us, individually, are stark. A mere tickle in the throat will get us thinking. A cough or a sneeze will trigger the hopeful anticipation of phlegm. A series of anxieties that may consume even the most stoic among us when a global pandemic disrupts normalcy for as long as Covid-19 has. Even the most braggadocious among us will eventually wash their hands feverishly, wear masks, avoid hugs and handshakes. But now extrapolate beyond the self, and it starts to get complicated.

At a meeting I felt compelled to attend, I stretched my arms out to indicate how much distance I wanted. Luckily, I don’t mind light offence for the sake of sticking to the physical distancing norms I suddenly believe in. Like ablutions before prayers, or the 2.5 percent zakat on non-use cash and assets? God knows best, but consider the arrays of the truths we hold to be self-evident: summer heat? Winter cold? Democracy? Federalism? And now, “please stand at least, *this* far away from me!”. It gets complicated real fast.

The Covid-19 crisis really began to hit home here in Pakistan by the second week of March. We are now at the precipice of May. In six weeks, some amazing things have happened because of this crisis, and some things, amazingly, have not.

After years of whining about how countries aren’t built on infrastructure and public works, the sceptics have turned to Makkah. Deficit hawks are in reverse gear. Put in the drivers’ seat because politician-specific pop wizardry on the nightly news talk shows is more compelling than data and evidence from nearly two dozen structural adjustments and extended fund facilities, the deficit hawks will drive in any direction they believe will help keep them employed. The data and evidence on that is pretty solid. The dreadful austerity this economy was subjected to was as fake and phony a concept as any that postcolonial third world countries afflicted with too many boomers in decision-making roles tend to be. Amazing.

More amazing? The Ehsaas Emergency Cash programme was not only conceived, approved and funded, but half of the Rs.144 billion has already been disbursed. In two weeks. The next time someone tells you the Pakistani state is incapable of doing better in terms of learning outcomes in classrooms, or maternal and neonatal health outcomes in hospitals, or clean, fresh drinking water in taps: hit ‘em with a little BISP gospel. As of day fourteen since the Ehsaas Emergency Cash programme began, six million households had been given Rs12,000 each. Pakistan’s state capacity is as robust and efficient as it wants to be.

This is politics at its very finest: the use of public office and public funds to serve the public in uncomplicated, direct ways. But politics has worked wonders in other ways too. Less obvious, but no less beautiful. Pakistan’s irresistible, inevitable and organic federalism has been a sight to behold during the Covid-19 crisis. Operational autonomy for the provinces is a boon when the province is run by world class, competent human beings (like in Sindh and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa), and it is an embarrassment when the province is run by proxy.

Some fortuitous changes to the macroeconomic context have also emerged: from global oil prices, to the sudden space for lower interest rates, to the relaxed IMF conditionalities, to a new IMF facility, to possible debt forgiveness or rescheduling.

All in all, Covid-19 has created opportunities in three critical areas. First, it has opened the opportunity to enhance and deepen the social contract between the state and Pakistan’s poor and vulnerable – the beginnings of which are manifest in the Ehsaas Emergency Cash programme.

Second, it has opened the door to better politics: including more reconciliation and consensus on key issues, and better talent management by politicians: a little more Murad Ali Shah, Sania Nishtar, and Taimur Khan Jhagra, a little less of the blowhard clowns that are regularly trotted out to troll opponents. Third, it has created the space for creative economic and fiscal management.

Now the bad news: the windows of opportunity that Covid-19 has opened will not remain open forever. InshaAllah, this virus will be overcome. When it is, there will be some foundational truths that are easy for us to ignore in March, April and May 2020 – but perhaps less so by June, July and August 2020.

The first and most urgent is how the economy will deal with the challenges to come. Of the three key sources of foreign exchange for Pakistan (remittances from Saudi Arabia and the UAE, exports to the United States and Europe, and loans from IFIs and banks) two will virtually collapse due to Covid-19. How will Pakistan tackle its economic vulnerability post Covid-19 in a world that produced this sentence at the most recent FATF meeting: “The FATF strongly urges Pakistan to swiftly complete its full action plan by June 2020”?

The second, and the one over which PM Khan has the most control, is whether he can establish a political consensus that secures his government against conspiracies and machinations, whilst also delivering meaningful governance. The evidence thus far is not encouraging.

The third, and most dangerous, is how the Afghan peace talks go, and how India chooses to behave. Covid-19 has neither sped up the Afghan government’s appetite for a settlement with the Taliban, nor instigated a rethink in New Delhi over its brutal annexation of Kashmir. Covid-19 can change many things, but it will not change Pakistan’s geography. Only the laziest of national discourses will pretend otherwise.

So, how long can Covid-19 continue to provide the proverbial carpet under which we brush some of the more enduring and profound challenges we face? A little while longer, but not a whole lot. The old normal will not evaporate into thin air. Indeed, the new normal will be a more complicated version of the old.

The writer is an analyst and commentator.