Lahore Gymkhana: Whose Pakistan is this? Public wealth for the elite, poverty for the people
The Lahore Gymkhana controversy raises questions about public land, elite privileges and accountability, highlighting the need to prioritise citizens' welfare over institutional interests.
The controversy surrounding Lahore Gymkhana Club is not merely about a piece of land, an annual rent of Rs5,000, a Cigar Room or disagreements among members of an exclusive institution. It has exposed a much deeper and more disturbing question about the character and priorities of our state: whose interests does Pakistan actually serve? Is this country for its struggling citizens, or has it gradually become a privileged domain for bureaucrats, influential families and the elite of Pakistani society?
According to documents reported before the Punjab Assembly’s Special Committee No. 6, Lahore Gymkhana occupies approximately 112 acres (about 1,090 kanals, as reported in the land records) of prime government land in the heart of Lahore. The annual lease rent is reportedly only Rs5,000, while the estimated value of the property has been placed between Rs76 billion and Rs218 billion. On 22 October 2026, the club’s chairman reportedly acknowledged before the committee that the existing rent was inadequate and suggested that it should be at least Rs10 million annually. These figures demand serious public scrutiny. How was such a nominal rent determined? Who approved the arrangement? Why was the lease renewed for another 50 years? And why did successive governments and relevant departments allow this situation to continue?
There is something profoundly disturbing about the priorities reflected in such arrangements. Pakistan is burdened by enormous public debt, unemployment, inflation and poverty. Millions of families struggle to pay electricity and gas bills, purchase medicines, arrange two meals a day and educate their children. Approximately 25 million children of school-going age are estimated to be out of school. Our young doctors, engineers, scientists, researchers, IT professionals and university graduates are leaving the country in search of employment, professional recognition and a secure future. Pensioners struggle with rising prices, labourers struggle to feed their families, and parents are increasingly unable to meet the educational and healthcare needs of their children.
Yet, in the midst of this national hardship, we continue to witness arrangements that appear to protect the extraordinary privileges of a small segment of society. Why should billions of rupees’ worth of public land be committed to facilitating the social and recreational interests of a fraction of the elite? Why should the state be so accommodating towards those who already enjoy financial security, influence and access to power, while millions of ordinary citizens cannot secure even the most basic necessities? What is the national justification for such a disparity?
Beyond the shadow of doubt, there is a widespread and deeply rooted perception among ordinary Pakistanis that the state has become far more responsive to the interests of its bureaucratic establishment and privileged elite than to the needs of the common citizen. Influential circles appear to enjoy access to institutional facilities, concessions and opportunities that remain beyond the reach of ordinary people. The poor, meanwhile, are expected to demonstrate patience, sacrifice and patriotism, even when they are denied the basic services and opportunities that a functioning state is supposed to provide.
This is not an indictment of every civil servant or every member of the privileged class. Nor is it an argument against private clubs, recreational facilities or social institutions. The issue is the unequal use of public resources and the apparent institutionalisation of privilege. A public office is a responsibility, not a personal entitlement. Government land is a national asset, not a gift to influential institutions. Public resources must serve public needs, not become instruments for maintaining exclusive lifestyles.
The reported existence of a designated room described as the Cigar Room, where alcoholic drinks are also reportedly available, adds another dimension to the controversy. According to the account of the recent meeting, this facility was acknowledged during the proceedings. Its legal status, applicable licensing requirements and regulatory compliance deserve transparent examination. The question is not one of personal morality or the private choices of club members. It is whether activities conducted on public land comply with the law and the conditions governing its use. No institution should be exempt from the rules that apply to the rest of society.
The historical background also deserves reflection. Many exclusive institutions in Pakistan have inherited traditions from the colonial era, when social privileges and distinctions were deliberately maintained. Pakistan achieved independence in 1947, but have we genuinely dismantled the culture of privilege that accompanied colonial administration? Have we established a system in which the child of a labourer enjoys the same dignity, opportunity and access to public services as the child of an influential bureaucrat or wealthy family? Or have we merely changed the people occupying positions of authority while allowing the old culture of privilege to survive?
The Punjab Assembly’s inquiry should become an opportunity to examine the entire system of public land allocation. The original lease, subsequent renewals, rent determination, legal approvals, financial records, building permissions and public-service obligations must be examined transparently. The committee has already raised questions about the legal basis of the lease, the approval of buildings and the club’s obligations towards the public. The club must also be given a fair opportunity to present its records and position. If the existing rent is unjustifiably low, it should be revised through an independent valuation. If any legal violations are established, appropriate corrective action should follow. The same standards must apply to every private club, association and influential institution across Pakistan.
The government should also seriously consider whether a substantial portion of such valuable land can be made accessible to the public through parks, recreational facilities and urban forests. Lahore desperately needs green spaces, cleaner air and public amenities. A proposal has already been reported before the Punjab Assembly to convert 100 acres into a public park and urban forest while retaining 17 acres for the club. Such proposals deserve objective consideration in the wider public interest.
Most importantly, this controversy must not become another episode of political point-scoring. The purpose should be accountability and reform, not the replacement of one privileged group with another. If we are serious about equality, the same principles must apply to all institutions and individuals, regardless of their influence, connections or social standing.
I often wonder what message we are sending to the young generation. What should a talented graduate think when professional merit does not guarantee employment? What should a poor father feel when he cannot afford his child’s education while valuable public resources are committed to exclusive facilities? What should a pensioner conclude when a lifetime of service leaves him struggling to meet monthly expenses? And what confidence can ordinary citizens have in a system in which access to privilege appears to depend more on influence than on citizenship?
Pakistan was not created for bureaucrats, politicians, wealthy families or exclusive social circles. It was created as a homeland for its people. Every citizen, irrespective of social status, deserves equal dignity, justice and opportunity. Those entrusted with public authority are servants of the state, not owners of its resources. Those enjoying public concessions must be able to justify them in the wider national interest.
A country drowning in debt cannot continue to afford a culture of entitlement. A country with millions of out-of-school children cannot place exclusive recreational privileges above educational priorities. A country losing its educated professionals cannot ignore the frustration of its youth. A country struggling with poverty cannot justify the unequal distribution of assets that belong to all its citizens.
The tragedy is not simply that a prestigious club may be enjoying an exceptionally favourable arrangement. The greater tragedy is that such controversies repeatedly force us to ask whether the state remembers the ordinary citizen at all.
Whose Pakistan is this? Is it a Pakistan of equal citizens, or a Pakistan divided between those who enjoy privilege and those who are expected to finance it through their taxes, sacrifices and patience?
Until public resources are managed for public welfare, until privilege is subjected to accountability, and until the state places the common citizen at the centre of its priorities, the promise of independence will remain incomplete.
Pakistan belongs to its people—not to its bureaucracy, not to its political class, not to its wealthy elite, and certainly not to any privileged institution. Public wealth must serve the nation, not a fraction of it.
The writer is Advisor Academics, University of Veterinary and Animal Sciences, Swat and former Financial Advisor, Finance Division, Government of Pakistan