t seems, dear readers, that Pakistan has to endure an annual plague in the form of thick, unbreathable air full of dust and toxins. This blanket of smog turns our most active cities into virtual gas chambers. The yearly calamity isn’t just bad luck; it’s a product of ignorance, negligence and the administration’s failure to act. It is as if they view polluted air as a minor inconvenience that the people will eventually learn to live with.

Every year as winter approaches, cities like Lahore and Multan are swallowed by a layer of smog so thick that sunlight struggles to break through. People walk through the streets as if in a nightmare, their eyes watering and their throats raw. Complaints of breathing problems shoot up and emergency rooms in the hospitals overflow. Schools are forced to close or shift to online classes — not because of some deadly virus, but because the very air is toxic, polluted by unchecked factory emissions, vehicle smoke and the seasonal burning of crop leftovers. The power elite, relatively safe in their purified-air offices and homes, have shown little urgency to fix the problem.

Imagine a wealthy individual surveying their lands from their luxurious home. Below them, ordinary people choke and cough, young children and elderly people falling sick as their lungs struggle with the filthy air. But why should this person care? They have secured their safety by installing air purifiers and providing for private healthcare. For them, the suffering of the masses is a minor yearly inconvenience, best addressed with talk of resilience and strength. The elite, isolated from the pollution thanks to their wealth, let the ordinary folk deal with the brunt of environmental damage.

“But what about the government?” one might ask. Indeed, what about this institution meant to serve the public? Our governments have responded with half-hearted measures, aimed more at calming the public than actually fixing the root causes of pollution. Construction has been paused and schools closed, as if such steps could somehow control the smog. Mobile clinics have been sent out to treat the sick, as if a few tents could remedy years of neglect that have turned Pakistani cities into toxic zones.

The elite have mastered the art of inaction, disguised as responsibility. For them, the smog is another sign of the nation’s ‘resilience.’ The suffering of the average person is nothing more than a story. They assure us that “the people are strong,” which, in practice, means that the poor must simply learn to bear the unbearable.

This isn’t about laziness alone. The inaction is rooted in a mindset inherited from colonial rulers, who saw the native people as tools for their profits. Today’s elites, who have inherited this legacy, govern with the same lack of concern, convinced that their privileges are natural and deserved. The ordinary citizen is not only voiceless but also breathless — a mere cog in a machine that exists solely to preserve the comforts of those at the top.

Governments have responded with half-hearted measures, aimed more at calming the public than fixing the root causes of pollution. Construction has been paused and schools closed as if such steps could somehow control the smog.

What do these privileged classes propose by way of a solution? What grand plans have they made to help the millions who inhale poison daily? They fall back on hollow actions and symbolic gestures. In recent weeks, over 600 mosques have held special prayers for rain, a ritual that serves more to excuse the elites than to bring any real change. The rain, if it comes, will indeed wash away the smog — but only temporarily. When the skies clear, the elites will pat themselves on their backs and refuse to acknowledge the fact that solutions lie not in divine intervention but in grounded policies. The ruling classes, after all, have no reason to regulate industries or limit vehicle emissions. Such actions will require them to confront the system of exploitation that benefits them.

We return to the question: can the subaltern breathe? In the context of Pakistan’s smog crisis, the answer is clearly no. For the ordinary citizen, the right to clean air — like many other basic rights — remains a luxury they can’t afford. The average person, lost in a cloud of red tape and neglect, is left to suffer in silence, his struggles ignored by those in power.

It is tempting to dream of a future in which the ruling elite, moved by sudden guilt, pass the laws needed to fight air pollution. But this is wishful thinking, for the elite are not in the business of easing suffering; they exist to maintain their own comfort. To expect empathy or accountability from them is to engage in a fantasy that borders on self-deception.

The smog crisis in Pakistan is not just an environmental issue; it is a sign of a deep, systemic failure in governance. It reflects a mindset that sees people as disposable and the environment as an unlimited resource to exploit. Until this mindset is changed, the ordinary citizen will continue to suffocate — both metaphorically and literally — under the weight of an indifferent and selfish ruling class.

The next time you step outside and find yourself engulfed in smog, remember this: the air you breathe is polluted not only because of some factories and cars. It is polluted also on account of the indifference of those in power, by the greed of those who profit, and by the carelessness of those who watch from afar, safe in the knowledge that they will never have to breathe the poison they have unleashed on the masses.

The writer, an associate professor at the School of Sociology, Quaid-i-Azam University in Islamabad, holds a PhD in sociology of knowledge from the University of Paris-Saclay, France. He can be reached at isabir@qau.edu.pk