The Chief Secretary’s Office in Pakistan: Colonial Legacy and the Case for Reform

Introduction

The office of the Chief Secretary in Pakistan is widely regarded as the most powerful position in a provincial bureaucracy. As the top civil servant in a province, the Chief Secretary traditionally acts as the administrative head and coordinates all government departments. Despite its influence, this office is laden with legal and constitutional anomalies that have raised fundamental questions about its role in Pakistan’s federal structure. Crucially, the Chief Secretary post is not a constitutional office, but rather a creation of administrative rules and colonial tradition. It is a provincial post – one that exists to serve provincial affairs and is financed by the provincial budget – yet, by longstanding practice, the appointment to this post is controlled by the federal government. This paradox, a holdover from British colonial rule, has sparked debate about provincial autonomy, federalism, and the very need for the Chief Secretary’s office in a modern democratic setup.

This comprehensive analysis examines the history of the Chief Secretary’s office as a colonial legacy, its constitutional and legal status as a provincial (not federal) post, and the existing mode of appointment rooted in the Civil Service of Pakistan (CSP) Composition and Cadre Rules, 1954. It will also explore how the current arrangement – where the federal establishment appoints a federally affiliated officer as Chief Secretary – conflicts with Pakistan’s federal structure and the authority of provincial governments. We discuss how the Chief Secretary’s dominant role can undermine the provincial Chief Minister and cabinet, encroach upon the mandate of provincial legislatures, and resist the devolution of power to local governments. Our analysis situates these issues in the broader context of administrative federalism, the 18th Constitutional Amendment, and ongoing civil service reforms. Finally, we present recommendations: either abolishing the office of Chief Secretary altogether, or radically reforming it – by returning appointment power to provincial authorities and inducting provincial civil servants into the role – so that it aligns with constitutional principles of provincial autonomy and parliamentary governance.

A Colonial Legacy: Historical Origins of the Chief Secretary’s Office

The institution of the Chief Secretary in South Asia dates back to the British colonial era. Under British rule, the Indian Civil Service (ICS) was the steel frame of administration, designed to consolidate imperial control over the subcontinent. The post of Chief Secretary was created by the colonial government as the highest-ranking civil servant in a province, functioning as the right-hand of the provincial Governor. The Chief Secretary was invariably a member of the elite ICS, answerable to the Secretary of State for India in London, and not to any representative local authority. This structure ensured that the British Crown’s interests would be upheld in provincial administration, with Indian politicians (in the limited arenas they existed) kept in advisory or subordinate roles. In essence, the Chief Secretary was the colonial regime’s instrument to keep provincial governments under tight central control.

By the early 20th century, the Government of India Acts had formalized this arrangement. Notably, the Government of India Act 1919 and later, the Constitution of India,1935 introduced the idea of “reserved posts” – certain strategic provincial posts (including the Chief Secretary and other key secretariats) were reserved for members of the all-India cadre (ICS), rather than officers of provincial origin, PCS. This meant that even in the semi-representative system of the late colonial period, critical provincial administrators were centrally appointed imperial bureaucrats. The idea was to have a unified, centrally loyal bureaucracy that could override or contain elected provincial leaders if necessary. This reservation of posts became a hallmark of colonial administrative control. As, senior civil servants describe, it was “a classic example of colonization of federal, provincial and local governments” – a centralized cadre of officers holding sway across all units of government. The Chief Secretary epitomized this practice: he was the colonial “gatekeeper” in each province, effectively the second most powerful man after the Governor, and certainly more powerful than any native minister.

At Independence in 1947, there was an expectation that this colonial system would give way to a truly Pakistani administration accountable to elected leadership. The Indian Independence Act 1947 explicitly dismantled the imperial bureaucratic linkages. Section 10 of that Act abolished the role of the Secretary of State and ended the reservation of civil service posts for the imperial cadre. In legal terms, with the birth of Pakistan (and India), the provisions of the Government of India Act 1935 that had allowed “reservation of posts” for an all-India central service were repealed. The framers of Pakistan’s early governance instruments understood that in a sovereign, democratic state, the civil service must function under the authority of elected governments rather than a distant central power. Indeed, when Pakistan adopted the Government of India Act 1935 as an interim constitution (with necessary adaptations), all sections relating to civil services and their imperial control were omitted as they had ceased to apply. In principle, this cleared the path for each dominion (Pakistan and India) to develop its own civil services for federal, provincial and district levels, free of the colonial “reserved post” scheme.

However, in practice, Pakistan’s nascent ruling elite – many of whom were themselves products of the ICS or influenced by its ethos – chose to retain and resurrect much of the colonial civil service structure. At Independence, Pakistan inherited about 82 ICS officers who had opted for the new country. These officers were few in number but wielded considerable influence. In the early years, bureaucrats filled the vacuum of leadership caused by political instability and the lack of trained indigenous administrators. As civil bureaucrats gained ascendancy in Pakistan’s power structure, they were keen to maintain a unified all-Pakistan central service on the pattern of the ICS.

The pivotal moment came in 1954. Lacking a constitutional mandate (since no provision for reserving provincial posts for central service existed in the 1935 Act as adapted, nor in any law passed by the Constituent Assembly), the bureaucratic establishment engineered a set of rules to formalize a central superior service by reserving provincial posts. The Government of Pakistan issued a simple Establishment Division notification on 1 June 1954 – known as the Civil Service of Pakistan (Composition and Cadre) Rules, 1954. These rules administratively created a new elite cadre called the Civil Service of Pakistan (CSP). The CSP was, in effect, the successor to the ICS whose officers could occupy senior posts both at the federal level and in the provinces. Crucially, the cadre schedule attached to these 1954 rules reserved key provincial posts – including the Chief Secretary, Commissioners, Deputy Commissioners, and Heads of major departments – for CSP officers. In other words, the colonial scheme of staffing provinces with centrally controlled officers was revived by executive fiat. As, Professor Rehman Ali observes that “Pakistan adopted the colonial scheme of reservation of posts and continued the legacy of colonization”, subverting the federal principle even after independence.

It is worth emphasizing that the 1954 CSP rules were not passed by any legislature; they were created through a “fraudulent agreement” (as critics label it) between the Governor General and provincial governors, without constitutional sanction. There was no provision in law for such an agreement, yet it was treated as binding. This extra-legal maneuver allowed centralists at the helm (notably Governor General Ghulam Muhammad, a former ICS man, and his civil service allies) to retake control of provincial administrations which, in a truly federal setup, should have been under provincial authority. As a result, from 1954 onward, every province’s Chief Secretary post was nominally a provincial appointment, but in reality filled by the federal government from the CSP (later called CSP/PAS, then District Management Group, and now Pakistan Administrative Service (PAS)).

Over the ensuing decades, the CSP – and its successors – entrenched their hold. Even after Pakistan got its first constitution in 1956 (and later the 1962 constitution), the practice of reserving provincial posts for central cadres continued, despite these constitutions not containing any clause to justify it. After General Yahya Khan’s rule, civil service reforms by Prime Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto in 1973 ostensibly abolished the CSP as a service and replaced it with various “occupational groups.” The CSP cadre rules of 1954 were administratively repealed in 1973 when the service was disbanded. However, the reality is that one of the new occupational groups – the District Management Group (DMG) – simply assumed the former CSP’s role as an all-Pakistan generalist cadre. DMG officers (mostly alumni of the pre-1973 CSP or their recruits) continued to be posted as Chief Secretaries, secretaries, commissioners and deputy commissioners in the provinces. The 1973 Constitution, which came into force that year, again did not explicitly authorize any “scheme of reservation of provincial posts for central services” covering provincial posts (aside from recognizing services existing prior to the Constitution). But through bureaucratic inertia and tacit political acceptance, the practice went on. In 2012, the DMG was renamed the Pakistan Administrative Service (PAS) – yet another rebranding with the same core concept of a unified elite cadre rotating between federal and provincial assignments.

The continuity of this colonial legacy was so strong that even the watershed 18th Amendment of 2010, which devolved significant powers to provinces, did not end the federal government’s dominance over key provincial appointments. By 2014, the Establishment Division had gone so far as to issue new PAS (Composition and Cadre) Rules, 2014, effectively updating the old 1954 framework to the post-18th Amendment era. Notably, no Act of Parliament ever established the PAS or declared provincial posts as “All-Pakistan” posts. The entire arrangement rests on the inertia of colonial-era rules and the saving clauses of the Constitution that allowed existing rules to temporarily continue. Thus, what was once a tool of imperial control – the centrally appointed Chief Secretary – has survived into the 21st century, lingering as an anomaly in Pakistan’s governance.

In summary, the Chief Secretary’s office is a product of history: it was born as a colonial instrument to control provinces, was resurrected after independence by a powerful bureaucracy through extra-parliamentary means, and remains in place despite the ostensibly federal, democratic constitutional framework of Pakistan. This historical baggage is essential to understanding why many now question the legitimacy and utility of the Chief Secretary’s role.

Constitutional Status: A Provincial Post, not a Federal Office

From a constitutional and legal standpoint, the post of Chief Secretary is purely a provincial post. There is no mention of “Chief Secretary” in the 1973 Constitution of Pakistan. Unlike the office of Governor (which is explicitly provided for in Article 101 as the Federation’s representative in a province) or the Auditor General or Election Commissioners (specific constitutional offices), the Chief Secretaryship is not created or sanctioned by the Constitution. It exists, as do countless other posts, by virtue of administrative rules under the law. This point is critical: the Chief Secretary is not a federal office at all, but an office “in connection with the affairs of a Province”.

Under Article 240 of the Constitution, the authority to determine appointments and service conditions for government posts is divided between the federation and the provinces. Article 240(a) says that for federal services and “posts in connection with the affairs of the Federation”, laws will be made by Parliament. Article 240(b) says that for “the services of a Province and posts in connection with the affairs of a Province”, laws will be made by the Provincial Assembly. In other words, provincial posts fall under provincial jurisdiction. The Chief Secretary, being the top administrative post associated with provincial government affairs (home, finance, services, etc. of the province), squarely fits the definition of a provincial post. Accordingly, the Provincial Assembly is the competent legislature to regulate this post, and the provincial government (Cabinet/Chief Minister) holds the executive authority over it.

Indeed, each province has legislated its own civil service law – e.g. the Punjab Civil Servants Act 1974, Sindh Civil Servants Act 1973, etc. – under the mandate of Article 240(b). These acts, along with annual budget laws (finance acts), formally create and fund various posts in the provincial government’s departments. The post of Chief Secretary is typically listed in the province’s Schedule of Authorized Posts (often under the Services & General Administration Department, or S&GAD). For instance, in Punjab, the Rules of Business 2011 issued under Article 139 list the “Chief Secretary” as a notified position within the S&GAD. The salary of the Chief Secretary is paid from the Provincial Consolidated Fund (the provincial budget) in accordance with Article 121 of the Constitution, just like any other provincial civil servant. All these facts underscore that in law and finance, the Chief Secretary is an employee and officer of the provincial government.

Crucially, no federal law establishes the Chief Secretary’s post or authorizes the federal government to make appointments to it. The Establishment Division (a federal department) asserts control over this and other provincial posts through executive notifications and the antiquated CSP/PAS rules – not through any Act of Parliament. This is where a constitutional tension arises. Article 240’s explanation defines an “All-Pakistan Service” as a service common to the federation and provinces “which was in existence immediately before the commencing day (of the Constitution) or which may be created by Act of Parliament”. Establishment Division asserts that the CSP and Police Service of Pakistan (PSP) that existed before the 1973 Constitution arguably fall in the first category by historical accident (though even that is debatable, since they were products of executive action, not statute). But since 1973, no Act of Parliament has been passed to create any new All-Pakistan Service for provincial posts. The PAS today claims to be an “All-Pakistan Service” without a lawful foundation – it is a self-declared successor of the CSP, continuing under the cover of constitutional saving clauses. In the CSP, Rules, 1954, CSP/DMG/PAS are declared as service of the federation as later on, mentioned in the constitution of Pakistan,1956. Hence, it is not an all-Pakistan service. If, it is legislated as an all Pakistan service, it cannot reserve provincial posts as all Pakistan service will be established among all Pakistan subjects, posts and cadres mostly fall under CCI subjects and other common subjects.

Furthermore, under Article 241, pre-existing rules can continue “until the appropriate legislature makes a law under Article 240”, so long as those rules are not inconsistent with the Constitution. The federal government has leaned on this saving provision to justify using the old CSP rules (1954) and Civil Servants Act 1973 (a federal law meant for federal services) to manage PAS officers in provincial posts. However, there are strong arguments that this arrangement is inconsistent with the post-1973 constitutional scheme of federalism. As legal scholars point out, each level of government’s authority is meant to be exclusive in its domain: “no one can encroach upon each other’s authority” under the Constitution’s division of powers. Yet by “earmarking” provincial posts for PAS officers via mere executive orders – without provincial assembly approval – the federal government has usurped the provincial assemblies’ constitutional right to legislate on their services. Furthermore, as per schedule IV of the constitution, the provincial assembly cannot allow federal government to reserve provincial posts. The Senate’s Committee on Cabinet Secretariat notably recognized this issue in a recent report, directing the Establishment Division to draft a proper bill for any All-Pakistan Service and present it to Parliament.

Furthermore, consider the executive authority clause (Article 97): it stipulates that the federal executive’s authority extends only to matters on which Parliament has power to legislate (the Federal Legislative List) and “in respect of which rights have been conferred by any Act of Majlis-e-Shoora (Parliament)”. Appointment of a provincial official like the Chief Secretary is not on the Federal Legislative List; it squarely falls under provincial competence. Therefore, when the Establishment Division in Islamabad selects, transfers, or removes a Chief Secretary, it could be seen as the federal executive trespassing into a provincial matter, contrary to Article 97’s limitations. Conversely, Article 137 affirms that a province’s executive authority extends to matters on which the provincial assembly can legislate – which includes the functioning of the provincial civil service and its posts (like the Chief Secretary). Article 129 makes clear that the Chief Minister and provincial cabinet exercise executive authority in the province. Putting these together, constitutionally it should be the Chief Minister (on cabinet’s advice) who has the power to appoint or remove the top provincial bureaucrat.

In sum, the Chief Secretary post is legally a creature of provincial law and authority. There is no constitutional designation of it as a federal or “common” post that the Centre can fill at will. Any such claim stems from legacy agreements and bureaucratic rules which pre-date the Constitution or were never validated by the proper legislative process. As the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Provincial Civil Service Association argued in a 2020 letter, by constitutional design “postings against all provincial posts including Chief Secretary [are] the constitutional right of provincial service”. The association cited Article 240(b) to reinforce that a Provincial Management Service (PMS) officer – i.e. a provincial civil servant – should occupy that position, not a federally appointed PAS officer. This view reflects a growing insistence that practice must finally be brought in line with the constitutional theory of Pakistan as a federation of autonomous units.

The Chief Secretary’s Appointment: Practice under the 1954 CSP Rules

Despite the clear provincial character of the Chief Secretary’s office in law, the mode of appointment for this post has long been dictated by federal regulations and norms, originating in the CSP era. Under the original CSP (Composition and Cadre) Rules, 1954, appointments to certain top provincial posts were centralized. In particular, Rule 15 of the CSP cadre rules laid down the procedure for appointing a Chief Secretary: the rule provided that the Prime Minister of Pakistan (then, the Governor General) would appoint the provincial Chief Secretary, after merely “consulting” with the Chief Minister of the province. The provincial government’s input was thus advisory at best – the final say rested with the Centre. Although these CSP rules were never an Act of Parliament, they were treated as governing law by the bureaucracy.

Over time, with reforms and renaming, one might expect such rules to be replaced or updated in line with new constitutional realities. However, the essence has remained the same. Today, the Establishment Division (Government of Pakistan) still controls the appointment of Chief Secretaries through executive orders and service rules pertaining to PAS officers. In practice, when a Chief Secretary is to be posted to a province, the federal government typically considers a panel of high-ranking PAS officers (usually in BPS-21 or BPS-22) and chooses one to assign as CS, often after informal consultation with the province’s Chief Minister. Sometimes the Prime Minister’s Office will ask the Chief Minister’s preference among a few candidates; in other cases, the Centre may unilaterally decide and simply inform the province. The chosen officer’s services are “placed at the disposal” of the provincial government. The province then issues a formal notification (through its Services & General Administration Department) to complete the appointment process. This gives the appearance that the province appointed the Chief Secretary, but in reality the choice was made by Islamabad. The tenure of a Chief Secretary is likewise at the Centre’s pleasure – the federal government can and often does reshuffle Chief Secretaries (and Inspector Generals of Police) when a new central government comes in or when it is dissatisfied with a province’s administration. Provincial consent is frequently an afterthought.

This mode of appointment is extra-constitutional and problematic, as pointed out by many law administrators. A news report in Dawn encapsulated the criticism by quoting provincial officers: “appointment of Chief Secretary by Establishment Division [is] extra-constitutional” and violates the spirit of administrative federalism. The same report notes the contention that the PAS (Pakistan Administrative Service) itself – successor to the CSP – was “not framed under any constitutional or legislative provision” and thus lacks legal status as a cadre to fill provincial posts. In other words, the entire pyramid that culminates in a federally appointed Chief Secretary stands on shaky legal ground.

In absence of a statutory framework, the federal government’s power over provincial top postings has relied on two things: executive discretion and tacit political acceptance. For decades, provincial political leaders acquiesced to this arrangement, sometimes begrudgingly. During periods of one-party dominance in both Centre and provinces (for example, the same ruling party in Islamabad and Lahore), there was little incentive to rock the boat – the Prime Minister and Chief Minister would usually agree on a trusted bureaucrat to install as Chief Secretary. However, tensions have often arisen when different parties rule the Centre and a province. In such cases, the Chief Secretary can become a flashpoint of conflict, seen as a proxy for federal influence in the province.

A telling example occurred in Sindh in 2014–2015, when the PPP provincial government under Chief Minister Qaim Ali Shah clashed with the PML-N federal government over the posting of Chief Secretary Sajjad Hotiana. The Sindh government was unhappy with Hotiana’s performance and wanted him removed. CM Qaim Ali Shah twice wrote to the Prime Minister’s Establishment Division requesting Hotiana’s transfer out and even suggested replacement candidates, but for months the federal authorities ignored the request. The Chief Secretary, being a federal appointee, refused to relinquish charge until he received orders from Islamabad. This led to a bizarre standoff: the Chief Minister directed all provincial secretaries to stop taking orders from or routing files through the Chief Secretary, essentially sidelining him. The province was thrown into administrative disarray, as many matters required the Chief Secretary’s coordination. Hotiana then claimed the CM had asked him to continue, which the CM’s office immediately denied, reiterating that he should leave. Only after protracted wrangling and political pressure did the federal government eventually replace Hotiana. During the dispute, Sindh’s Information Minister pointed out the crux of the issue, stating “The PM does not have the power to revoke the CM’s order. The CM has the right to appoint or remove the Chief Secretary.” In principle he was correct – constitutionally, a province should control its administrative appointments – yet in practice the province was unable to enforce its will until the Centre relented. This episode vividly illustrates how the federal appointment mechanism undermines provincial executive authority and can lead to governance paralysis on the ground.

Legally speaking, if challenged, the federal government’s domination via the 1954-style rules could be struck down as ultra vires the Constitution. In fact, in recent years, associations of Provincial Civil Service (PCS/PMS) officers have filed petitions in superior courts against what they term the “post-sharing” or reservation system that favors PAS officers. One such case in the Islamabad High Court (IHC) was dismissed on technical grounds in 2021, but it brought attention to the grievances. The petitioners argued that the continued application of CSP cadre rules to reserve provincial posts for PAS violates Article 240 and provincial rights. The courts have yet to squarely decide on this matter, and some judicial hesitation may stem from the complexities of nullifying a decades-old system without a clear legislative alternative in place. Nonetheless, the writing on the wall is that the current mode of appointment is standing on borrowed time.

Even aside from constitutional legality, merit and governance concerns have been raised. A centrally appointed Chief Secretary is typically an outsider to the provincial civil service. While PAS officers do serve in provinces, they are part of a federal cadre that serves all over Pakistan; they may or may not have deep familiarity with the specific province’s local administration compared to officers of the Provincial Management Service who spend entire careers there. Moreover, PAS officers owe their career progression to the federal Establishment Division – promotions to senior grades, prestigious postings, foreign trainings, etc., are controlled by central authorities. This can create a conflict of loyalty: is the Chief Secretary more answerable to the provincial Chief Minister or to his patrons in Islamabad who can recall or reward him? In scenarios where the federal and provincial governments are politically aligned and harmonious, this may not matter. But if there is divergence (or if the bureaucracy has its own agenda), a Chief Secretary might not fully commit to the provincial leadership’s policy objectives. Accountability also becomes murky – if a provincial legislature summons the Chief Secretary for some issue, his ultimate appointing authority sits in federal capital, not in that legislature.

In essence, the existing appointment mechanism, rooted in colonial-era logic, places a federal hand on the lever of provincial administration. This is inconsistent with Pakistan’s formal identity as a federation where provinces are autonomous in their sphere. It also perpetuates a sense of alienation among provincial civil servants, who see a “glass ceiling” blocking them from rising to the top post in their own province. This frustration was voiced clearly by the KP PMS Association, which not only cited constitutional grounds but also noted that PAS officers are a federal cadre created by 1954 rules that “lacked legal and constitutional status… [and] officials of [that] federal service could not be posted against provincial posts including the post of Chief Secretary.” Their plea was straightforward: appoint a provincial officer as Chief Secretary. As we shall discuss, this forms a central plank of reform proposals.

The Chief Secretary vs. Provincial Executive Authority

One of the strongest arguments made against the current model of the Chief Secretary’s office is that it undermines the authority of the elected provincial government, particularly the Chief Minister and Cabinet. Under Pakistan’s parliamentary system (both federal and provincial), the Chief Minister is the Chief Executive of the province (Article 130 of the Constitution). The provincial cabinet, headed by the Chief Minister, is collectively responsible for running the government, formulating policies, and executing laws. In theory, the bureaucracy (including the Chief Secretary) exists to assist and implement the decisions of the political executive. However, when the administrative head of the province is effectively installed and influenced by an external authority (the federal government), it creates a parallel power center within the provincial setup.

The Rules of Business of the provincial governments starkly illustrate this duality. Taking Punjab’s Rules of Business, 2011 as an example: these rules, issued by the Governor on the advice of the Chief Minister under Article 139, allocate responsibilities among various actors in the government. The functions of the Chief Minister under the rules are relatively limited: he is the head of the Cabinet, coordinates policy, and performs functions assigned by law, among a few other duties. In contrast, the functions of the Chief Secretary are extensive and far-reaching. The Chief Secretary is designated as “the head of the Secretariat”, “Secretary of the Cabinet”, responsible for “coordinating and supervising all departments,” maintaining public order, and empowered to call for any information from any department or even district administration. Importantly, “all cases submitted to the Chief Minister shall be routed back through the Chief Secretary.” This essentially means nothing reaches the Chief Minister or Cabinet without flowing through the Chief Secretary’s office, giving him a chokehold on the decision-making pipeline.

The effect of these rules (which were drafted by bureaucracy and approved by complacent cabinets) is that a Chief Minister’s ability to directly oversee departments is filtered by the Chief Secretary. Instead of each Department Secretary reporting straight to the Minister or CM, they often communicate via the Chief Secretary for coordination and approval. The Chief Secretary sets the agenda of Cabinet meetings as its secretary, records minutes, and follows up on implementation. In unscrupulous hands, these powers allow the Chief Secretary to manipulate the pace and substance of governance – by delaying files, withholding information, or subtly steering decisions. Even in routine practice, it fosters a culture where departmental secretaries feel answerable to the Chief Secretary more than to their Ministers. In Punjab’s Rules of Business, for example, every Secretary is instructed to keep the Chief Secretary informed of important matters and to consult him on inter-departmental issues. The Chief Secretary thus sits atop the administrative hierarchy, while the Chief Minister (especially if politically weak or inattentive) can become a figurehead who is fed only what the top bureaucrat deems fit.

This scenario is obviously contrary to the spirit of parliamentary governance. In a true cabinet system, civil servants should implement and coordinate as per directions of the elected leadership; they are not meant to be independent power centers. The colonial rationale for having a powerful Chief Secretary was that the bureaucrat could act as a check or counterweight to “native” ministers, whom the British distrusted. But in an independent Pakistan, that rationale has no place – yet the institutional inertia keeps the practice alive. Many Chief Ministers themselves, ironically, have tolerated or even encouraged strong Chief Secretaries, either due to over-reliance on bureaucratic expertise or to avoid direct responsibility for administrative details. This has led some provincial leaders to willingly cede ground, making the Chief Secretary de facto in charge of significant governance areas. But as soon as there is a divergence – say a bureaucrat refusing an unlawful order, or pursuing his own agenda – the conflict comes to fore and the limitations on the Chief Minister’s authority become glaring.

From a constitutional perspective, one could argue that the way the Chief Secretary role is structured “violates the Punjab Assembly’s legislative powers and the provincial cabinet’s executive powers.” The provincial legislature passes laws and authorizes policies, but if the bureaucratic machinery (led by CS) skews or stifles the implementation of those laws, the legislature’s will is frustrated. For example, if the Punjab Assembly enacts a law requiring certain local government powers, but the Chief Secretary (as head of bureaucracy) issues rules or influences notifiers in ways that dilute that power, it’s an indirect negation of the legislature’s intent. There have been instances where laws passed to empower local bodies or ensure transparency languished because the bureaucratic leadership was unenthusiastic about implementing them.

The Chief Secretary’s role as Cabinet Secretary is particularly contentious. Normally, a Cabinet Secretary’s job is to facilitate the cabinet meetings, record decisions, and ensure follow-up – a secretarial role. But when the same person is also the administrative boss of the province, he holds both the pen that writes the cabinet’s decisions and the sword to execute (or not execute) them. The potential for conflict of interest is clear: a strong-willed Chief Secretary could, in theory, temper the cabinet’s decisions by controlling the information flow. For instance, important summaries or proposals from departments might be kept off the cabinet agenda if the Chief Secretary believes they conflict with his or the federal government’s preferences. Likewise, cabinet decisions can be “interpreted” by the Secretariat in ways that favor the bureaucracy’s perspective unless ministers remain vigilant.

It is telling that the federal government has no exact analogue of a provincial Chief Secretary. At the federal level, the Prime Minister’s Secretariat (or the Cabinet Division) does have a Cabinet Secretary (a senior civil servant) and a Principal Secretary to the PM, but these officials do not exercise the kind of across-the-board control over ministries that a provincial Chief Secretary does over departments. Federal ministries deal more directly with the PM and cabinet committees. The Cabinet Secretary’s role is confined to coordinating cabinet meetings and inter-ministerial correspondence; he is not considered the “boss” of the federal secretaries in their substantive work (though as a senior peer he may have some influence). The Principal Secretary to PM acts as an aide and gatekeeper for the PM’s office, but he is part of the PM’s personal staff, not a hierarch over all civil servants. Therefore, the existence of an all-powerful coordinating bureaucrat in provinces is an anomaly when compared to the federal tier. It exists because of historical legacy, not because of any functional necessity proven by the federal experience. If the Prime Minister can run Pakistan without a single civil servant dominating all ministries, surely a Chief Minister can run a province likewise.

Those who defend the status quo often argue that a centrally appointed seasoned bureaucrat as Chief Secretary provides a useful link between the federation and the province, ensuring policy coherence and communication. However, this argument holds little water constitutionally. The Council of Common Interests (CCI), established by Articles 153-154 of the Constitution, is specifically meant to handle coordination on matters that overlap federal and provincial domains (e.g., energy, railways, shared resources). Additionally, the office of the Governor in each province (appointed by the President) serves as a formal bridge – although governors are figureheads in day-to-day matters, they symbolically represent federal presence and can report any constitutional issues between the two levels. Therefore, inserting a federal bureaucrat to “oversee” provincial administration is redundant from a coordination perspective. In fact, it can be counterproductive: instead of healthy intergovernmental relations through institutional forums like CCI, you get informal control and interference via the bureaucratic channel. As one analysis noted, the argument that federal control of provincial posts is needed for connectivity is “absurd” when the Constitution already provides formal mechanisms for federal-provincial coordination.

Ultimately, the presence of a Chief Secretary appointed in the current manner can dilute the accountability of the provincial executive. In a parliamentary democracy, the Chief Minister and ministers are accountable to the Provincial Assembly for governance. If the bureaucracy fails to implement policies or if it acts contrary to directives, the ministers are answerable for those failures. Yet, if the bureaucracy’s top leadership is not fully under the Chief Minister’s control, he can always pass blame or claim interference. Conversely, bureaucrats might feel they answer to two masters – and thus can evade full accountability to either. This diffusion of responsibility is bad for governance and service delivery. Good governance requires a clear line of command and accountability from the voters, to the legislature, to the executive, and down to the administrators. The current setup muddles this line at the provincial level.

Resisting Devolution: Impacts on Local Government

Another dimension of the Chief Secretary’s role is its influence on local government and devolution of power. Pakistan’s history of local governance has been checkered – at times robust local bodies have been introduced (notably under General Ayub Khan’s “Basic Democracies” and General Pervez Musharraf’s Devolution Plan of 2001), only to be later weakened or dissolved by subsequent regimes. A consistent factor in this pattern is the ambivalence or hostility of both provincial politicians and provincial bureaucrats towards empowered local governments. The Chief Secretary, as head of the provincial administration, often embodies the bureaucratic resistance to transferring meaningful authority to elected local officials.

Under the Musharraf-era Local Government Ordinances 2001, significant powers were devolved to district and municipal governments. The office of Deputy Commissioner (DC) – which was under divisional Commissioners and ultimately the Chief Secretary – was temporarily replaced by an elected District Nazim (mayor) system, with a bureaucracy working under these local leaders. The provincial bureaucratic hierarchy (including Commissioners and even some roles of the Chief Secretary) saw their direct control reduced. However, after the revival of parliamentary rule in 2008, the provinces, with assent from the central PAS bureaucracy, gradually reversed many of these reforms. By 2010–11, the commissionerate system was restored in most provinces (Punjab, Sindh, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa), meaning divisional Commissioners and DCs regained their colonial-era authority as agents of the provincial government. The Chief Secretary once again had a clear line of command down to the district level through these officers, sidelining the nascent local governments.

Even when provincial governments pass local government acts (as required by the Constitution’s Article 140A introduced by 18th Amendment, which mandates devolution to local bodies), the implementation details often keep the District Administration under provincial (and Chief Secretary’s) control rather than under elected district mayors. For example, policing, revenue, and general administration typically remain with officials who report to the provincial bureaucracy, not the local councils. A strong Chief Secretary, in coordination with the provincial Home Secretary and others, can ensure that local governments operate with limited autonomy – for instance, by controlling the flow of funds, approvals for development schemes, and appointments of local officers like Assistant Commissioners and Municipal Administrators.

The rationale from a bureaucratic standpoint is “uniformity” and preventing misuse of power by inexperienced local politicians. But the effect is that devolution – one of the avowed aims of the 18th Amendment and many reformers – is stifled. As “chief of bureaucracy,” the Chief Secretary has a vested interest in centralizing administrative authority at the provincial headquarters, which naturally pits him against genuine empowerment of the district or municipal tier. Local governments are often seen as competitors for power: a strong mayor with independent resources could bypass the provincial administration in serving the people, something neither provincial politicians nor top bureaucrats are very keen on. There have been reports and studies noting how bureaucratic red tape and provincial control delayed or obstructed the functioning of elected local councils in recent years. For example, if a local council passes a resolution or a budget, it often needs concurrence or approval from the provincial Local Government Department (headed by a Secretary who reports to the Chief Secretary). Many a time, those approvals languish, effectively neutering the local institution.

While the blame cannot be placed solely on Chief Secretaries – politicians also play a role – the culture of central control emanates from the top of the provincial civil service. A reformed model where district administrators answer to elected local leaders (and indirectly to people) would reduce the Chief Secretary’s centralized grip. But the PAS cadre and provincial officials have frequently lobbied against such changes. The result is a lack of meaningful devolution: local governments remain weak, at the mercy of provincial bureaucratic whims for funds and authority. In Punjab and other provinces, local bodies have often been dissolved as soon as a governing party changes, leaving administrators (bureaucrats) to run municipal affairs until new elections (often delayed) are held. In those interim (sometimes lengthy) periods, the Chief Secretary and his deputies effectively micromanage municipal services through appointed administrators, reinforcing the notion that bureaucracy prefers to keep governance out of the hands of local representatives.

This resistance to devolution can be viewed in constitutional terms as well. The 18th Amendment’s spirit was not only to decentralize to provinces but also to encourage decentralization within provinces (hence Article 140A’s inclusion). Yet, if the provincial apex of administration is too powerful and itself centrally appointed, the domino effect is that power stops there and does not trickle down. The Chief Secretary’s posture thus influences whether the province will have a thriving third tier of government or not. A Chief Secretary fully under the direction of a provincial political leadership might implement devolution if the politicians so desire. But a Chief Secretary who is aligned more with a centralized bureaucratic ethos or with federal thinking might stall those efforts, either overtly or subtly.

In summary, the Chief Secretary as currently constituted often serves as a bottleneck to local empowerment. By concentrating authority in the provincial capital and being the linchpin through which all district administration passes, he can impede the transfer of functions to elected local officials. This is another way the office, in its traditional form, is increasingly seen as out of step with modern governance, where subsidiarity (decision-making at the lowest effective level) is a guiding principle. If Pakistan is to develop strong grassroots democracy, the provincial civil service leadership will need to adapt – something unlikely to happen as long as the incentive structures remain tied to central (federal) control and an overmighty provincial secretariat.

Federalism and Provincial Autonomy in the Post-18th Amendment Era

The issues surrounding the Chief Secretary are, at their core, issues of federalism and provincial autonomy. Pakistan’s 1973 Constitution was the first to fully acknowledge the country as a federation with clear delineation of powers between the Centre and provinces. The Eighteenth Amendment (2010) significantly strengthened this federal character by abolishing the Concurrent Legislative List and giving provinces exclusive control over many subjects (except those on the Federal List). It also inserted provisions that underscore joint decision-making for any new “common” institutions: for instance, any new All-Pakistan Service or post would require legislation by Parliament (with presumably provincial consent) rather than unilateral executive creation.

In this context, the continued existence of a federally-imposed Chief Secretary system is an anachronism. It harks back to the era of unitary or quasi-unitary governance. In fact, during Pakistan’s early years and especially under the One Unit (1955-1970) scheme, the country was run in a centralized manner, and the CSP officers thrived in that centralized system. Both the 1956 and 1962 constitutions, though they mentioned federal structures, in practice operated under strong central governments (particularly 1962, being a presidential system). But the 1973 Constitution and later amendments have attempted to rectify that, only to be undermined by inertia in administrative structures. Scholars note that “even after the promulgation of consecutive Constitutions in 1956, 1962 and 1973, there has been no provision regarding the reservation of posts, yet the illegal practice still continues”. This continuation is seen as jeopardizing provincial autonomy – a key principle that the 18th Amendment sought to fortify.

Under a true federal setup, each province should have the freedom to manage its internal administration without undue interference. The federal government’s role would be limited to areas like defense, foreign affairs, currency, nationality, etc., and to coordinating inter-provincial matters via bodies like the CCI, NEC (National Economic Council), etc. The notion that Islamabad would decide who runs the provincial administration day-to-day is alien to mature federations. For instance, in the United States or Australia, the federal government has no say in who a state’s chief administrative officer is – that is entirely a state matter (whether it’s a governor’s chief of staff or a state civil service head). In India, which also inherited the ICS, the Indian Administrative Service (IAS) is a central cadre but crucially it was established through the Constitution (Article 312 of the Indian Constitution) with consent of states, and IAS officers are allocated to state cadres where the state Chief Minister effectively has a major say in their posting as state Chief Secretary. Additionally, in India the arrangement is buttressed by the Union and State Public Service Commissions and a legal framework that balances interests. In Pakistan, by contrast, no such constitutional backing exists for the PAS, making the federal grip on provincial administration much more tenuous legally.

The tension came to a head during debates on civil service reforms in recent years. The Federal Task Force on Civil Service Reforms (led by Dr. Ishrat Hussain) initially looked at questions of federal-provincial personnel management. Provincial services demanded that constitutional norms be respected – that appointments in the provinces be in provincial domain. The reforms, however, largely skirted the issue of All-Pakistan Services’ constitutional position, focusing instead on training, performance, etc. This prompted criticism that “the colonial era scheme of ‘reservation of posts’ for federal service in provincial services is still in practice” and that reforms ignoring administrative federalism would be an “eyewash”. The phrase “administrative federalism” encapsulates the idea that not just political power, but administrative authority, should be federalized – each level of government should have its own responsive civil service. Pakistan’s current scenario falls short of that, as a segment of the civil service (PAS/PSP) straddles both levels with an upper hand.

The 18th Amendment also added clarity to what could constitute a “common” service (All-Pakistan Service). Essentially, only those subjects which both federal and provincial governments jointly deal with (now mainly the Council of Common Interests related subjects in Federal Legislative List Part II) could justify an All-Pakistan Service. For example, one might argue that a limited All-Pakistan Service could exist for running the CCI’s operations or regulatory authorities that involve all provinces. But general provincial administration (education, health, law and order within province, etc.) is not a joint subject – it is provincial. Thus, inserting an All-Pakistan cadre into those areas is extraneous. As one legal commentary put it, “establishing PAS on posts related to the affairs of the provinces, by calling it an All-Pakistan Service, is unconstitutional and an intrusion upon the affairs of the provinces”. The same commentary points out that no law has been enacted by Parliament to create new All-Pakistan Services, and the current practice relies on a “mere SRO” (statutory regulatory order) – which cannot override the constitutional scheme. Tellingly, the Senate committee’s call for a bill on All-Pakistan Services is an implicit admission that the status quo is on thin ice. If Parliament were to debate such a bill, provinces would undoubtedly demand a say, possibly refusing to consent to anything that robs them of appointment powers. This indicates that the days of quietly continuing the 1954 approach are numbered.

The broader principle at stake is provincial autonomy, which has been a sensitive issue in Pakistan’s history. Grievances of smaller provinces (and even sentiments that led to the secession of East Pakistan in 1971) often centered on the feeling of being governed or controlled by an overly centralized authority. The symbolism of who sits as the top bureaucrat in a provincial capital is not lost on anyone. When it’s always an officer “parachuted” from Islamabad (often not even speaking the local language, in some cases, or having spent little time in that province), it feeds perceptions of an external elite running the show. Reforms post-18th Amendment aim to make provinces truly self-governing in as many respects as possible. Allowing provinces to choose their Chief Secretaries (and Inspectors General of Police) would be a meaningful step in that direction. It would signal trust in the provinces to manage their own affairs and remove an irritant in federal-provincial relations.

It is noteworthy that the Constitution does permit the federation and provinces to agree on having common services – but through a constitutional process. Article 242(1B) (added by the 18th Amendment) actually says that the “matters of All-Pakistan Services” will be dealt with by a law of Parliament, and that such a law shall not be made without consultation with the provinces (the exact wording involves the CCI’s role). This essentially means if Pakistan wants a unified higher civil service that serves both Centre and provinces, it must do so through consensus and legislation, not executive fiat. Until now, no such consensual law has been passed. Instead, the PAS cadre claims continuity from the past (via Article 241’s saving of rules) and uses Article 240’s explanation of “existing service” to justify itself. But since the CSP was notionally abolished in 1973 and reconstituted as DMG without a clear legal basis, even that claim is murky. Some argue that the adoption of the repealed CSP rules of 1954 for PAS is itself unconstitutional, because a repealed rule cannot be saved by a constitutional saving clause if it contradicts the new scheme.

In summary, the persistence of the Chief Secretary’s appointment being controlled by the Centre is a contradiction in Pakistan’s federal evolution. As provincial autonomy expands post-18th Amendment, this is one of the last vestiges of the old centralized bureaucratic order that needs alignment with current principles. The conversation is no longer whether it should change, but how and when.

The Case for Abolishing (or Redefining) the Chief Secretary’s Office

Given the multitude of issues associated with the Chief Secretary’s office – historical, constitutional, administrative – a strong case emerges that the office, at least in its current form, may no longer be necessary or desirable. Some reformers go further to argue that the office of Chief Secretary should be abolished outright. This is a radical proposition, but one that has merit when examined in context. The reasoning is straightforward: if the Chief Minister is the constitutional chief executive of the province, why have a parallel, non-constitutional “chief executive” of the bureaucracy at all? Instead, each department’s Secretary can report to the Minister and Chief Minister directly, and coordination among departments can be achieved through the cabinet secretariat or committees, rather than vesting all coordinating power in one bureaucrat.

Those advocating abolition note that the Chief Secretary’s existence is a legacy of colonial/master-servant relationships unsuited to a democratic federation. In British India, the Chief Secretary was needed to keep a tight grip on the province for the Empire – effectively an overseer of the entire provincial machinery. In today’s Pakistan, that role is not only redundant but obstructive: it adds an extra layer in decision-making, often causing “delays, pendency, obstructions and hiccups” in the flow of work. Many a time, files have to travel through the Chief Secretary’s office even when they already have the concerned Minister’s approval, which slows down execution. Eliminating the post could potentially streamline governance by cutting out the middle-man. Each Secretary of a department would then be fully responsible to the Chief Minister and Cabinet for that sector, without being micromanaged by the Chief Secretary. The Cabinet could still function collectively, with perhaps a Cabinet Secretary (a purely secretarial role, not a line authority) to compile agenda and minutes. In fact, as earlier mentioned, the only substantial unique function the Chief Secretary performs – being Secretary to the Cabinet – could easily be hived off to a different official or a rotating arrangement, without needing a monolithic CS office.

Another argument is that the Chief Secretary’s office, as it stands, contradicts the principle of Cabinet collective responsibility. The Cabinet is supposed to be a team of equals (ministers under the CM’s leadership) where decisions are made collectively and implemented by respective departments. When a Chief Secretary acts as an enforcer or monitor above the ministers (by supervising departmental secretaries), it in effect means an unelected person is imposing discipline on elected officials’ domains. This can demoralize ministers and confuse accountability. Some provincial cabinets in the past have tried to assert themselves by bypassing overbearing Chief Secretaries, but the entrenched systems often win out unless the CM strongly backs the ministers. Abolishing the CS post would remove this tension – ministers and their secretaries would take full charge of their portfolios, and any inter-departmental issues would be resolved by the CM or a coordination committee of ministers rather than a bureaucrat. The Office of the Chief Minister itself could be strengthened with a better secretariat (a team of aides or principal staff officers) to help the CM in supervising departments directly, rather than relying on the CS as a proxy.

It is telling that in many countries, even unitary ones, such a role is not found. In the UK or Canada, for example, each ministry’s permanent secretary deals with their minister, and coordination is done by the Cabinet Office (staffed by civil servants who report to the Prime Minister or Premier). There isn’t a single civil servant who can command all others across ministries – that authority rests with the political head (the PM or provincial premier). Pakistan’s adoption of a singularly powerful civil service position in provinces is more akin to some authoritarian or colonial administrative state than a modern democracy.

However, abolishing a long-standing office is easier said than done. There are transitional issues: who would take over the coordinating functions and routine approvals that currently concentrate in the CS? One approach is to split the responsibilities of the CS among a few officials: e.g., a Secretary to the Cabinet (to handle Cabinet meetings and decision circulation), a Principal Secretary to the Chief Minister (to handle the CM’s office correspondence and liaison), and perhaps a Head of the Provincial Civil Service (if needed for disciplinary oversight of officials, though that could vest in the S&GAD Secretary or Services Minister). In essence, disaggregate the power. Some provinces at times have had an “Additional Chief Secretary (ACS)” for certain clusters (for example, an ACS for development or for coordination) – these models could be refined to ensure no single person has blanket authority.

If outright abolition is not palatable immediately, the alternative is deep reform of the Chief Secretary’s office. The reform would center on re-aligning the office under provincial control and limiting its powers to prevent the issues discussed. Key reform measures would include:

Provincializing the Appointment: The Chief Secretary should be appointed by the provincial government, not the Centre. This could be done unilaterally by provinces asserting their right (through a provincial law or executive order). In fact, a strong case is made that a provincial civil servant should be Chief Secretary to ensure loyalty and local expertise. This will also motivate provincial bureaucrats, knowing they have a fair shot at the top job, thus improving morale and performance in the provincial services. And, most importantly, this is what the law says.
Redefining the Powers: The functions of the Chief Secretary, if the post continues, should be revisited. Many of the coordinator roles could be toned down. For example, instead of “supervise all departments,” it could be “facilitate inter-departmental coordination when required.” The requirement that all files to CM route through CS could be removed; departments might send cases to CM directly (with copy to CS for information). The CS could still be kept “in the loop” but not allowed to be a bottleneck. Removing the CS’s role as Cabinet Secretary by creating a separate post for Cabinet Secretary (reporting directly to CM) is one suggestion. If the CS is no longer cabinet secretary, he cannot control cabinet agendas or minutes – that power goes to a neutral secretariat of the cabinet.
Ensuring Accountability to Province: The Chief Secretary (if in place) must unequivocally be answerable to the Chief Minister and cabinet. This could be codified by provincial law or rules – for instance, a provision that the Chief Minister may, at his discretion, dismiss or transfer the Chief Secretary (currently only the federation does that). Also, performance evaluation of the CS could be done by the Chief Minister, affecting the officer’s career, to enforce accountability. In other words, make the CS effectively a provincial servant for all practical intents and purposes, even if the person is from a federal cadre initially.
Strengthening Provincial Secretariat Processes: If the CS role is reduced, provinces might need to improve other processes for smooth working. For example, if departments send summaries directly to the CM, the CM’s office must be staffed well to handle the increased load. Perhaps a committee of secretaries could meet (chaired by CS or by CM) periodically to discuss cross-cutting issues instead of one man arbitrarily coordinating. Also, training and capacity of provincial secretaries should be enhanced so that they don’t always look towards a higher authority for guidance. This way, removing or limiting CS’s command-and-control style will not result in chaos but in empowered departments.

Opponents of abolishing the CS post worry that it could lead to a loss of bureaucratic discipline – multiple secretaries acting without cohesion. But if a Chief Minister and Cabinet provide political leadership, that cohesion can be achieved through policy and regular cabinet meetings. It’s worth noting that often Chief Secretaries have to convene weekly meetings with secretaries to make sure everyone is on the same page. That function could as easily be done by the Chief Minister’s own initiative (say, a weekly meeting with all department heads), which might even be healthier as it brings bureaucrats under direct touch with the elected head.

Finally, financial implications also favor trimming the CS office. The Chief Secretary’s secretariat is an expensive, duplication-prone layer. Provinces maintain a staff for CS (including multiple additional secretaries, a whole protocol and coordination apparatus). If the post is removed or downsized, those resources could be repurposed to frontline service delivery or other needs. A critique often made is that Pakistan’s bureaucracy is top-heavy – too many high-grade officers in general administration, too few at service delivery level. Eliminating one very high post will not solve that alone, but it symbolically addresses the top-heaviness and could allow focusing on strengthening mid-level administration (e.g., more project directors, specialists, etc., rather than one more generalist boss).

In conclusion, while abolition of the Chief Secretary’s office may sound drastic, it is grounded in the desire to fully empower the constitutional offices of Chief Minister and Cabinet. At the very least, if abolition is deemed a bridge too far for now, substantial reforms must be undertaken to cure the identified ills – the status quo is no longer tenable. The next section provides concrete recommendations to implement these ideas.

Recommendations and Way Forward

The analysis above leads to two broad options: (1) Abolish the Chief Secretary position, or (2) Restructure it fundamentally under provincial control. In both scenarios, the guiding principles are constitutionalism, provincial autonomy, and efficient governance. Here are detailed recommendations for the way forward, which the provincial governments and federal authorities should consider:

Provincial Appointment of Chief Secretary: Immediately amend rules or pass an act (through the Provincial Assembly) stating that the province will appoint its Chief Secretary. This can be done by selecting a suitable officer from among the provincial civil service (PMS). This move would fulfill the constitutional intent that “postings against all provincial posts including Chief Secretary [are] the right of provincial service”. There is a constitutional principle, in a parliamentary form of governance, executive must be formed by the legislature. Therefore, if a provincial assembly elects the chief minister, therefore, chief secretary must also come from the legislative competence of the provincial assembly. How could political executive and bureaucratic executive come from two different legislatures?
Amend the Civil Servants Acts: The provincial assemblies should amend their Civil Servants Acts to explicitly create and define the post of Chief Secretary (if not already defined) as a provincial service post, laying down the mode of appointment (by Chief Minister) and tenure protections, etc. They could also add that only a provincial civil servant or a person serving in connection with affairs of the province is eligible. This gives a legal force within the province’s domain to back the change. If needed, coordination with the federal government can be done to avoid legal challenge – perhaps through the CCI – to accept that this is a provincial matter.
Federal Legislation (if any) via Consensus: If the federal government insists on some framework for All-Pakistan Services, it must be done through Parliament with input from provinces. However, this can only exercise on CCI subjects, enumerated in the federal legislative list part II. There must not be reservation of provincial posts for federal or all Pakistan services. In any case, no federal unilateral SROs, law or legislation should determine provincial appointments – it must be law and ideally one that devolves power, not centralizes it.
Separate the Role of Cabinet Secretary: Provinces should create a distinct post of Secretary to the Cabinet (perhaps rotating among senior secretaries or a dedicated officer) who will handle cabinet agendas, minutes, and follow-up. This post would report directly to the Chief Minister and cabinet collectively, rather than being under the Services Department hierarchy. By doing so, the Chief Secretary (if retained) will no longer automatically sit in cabinet meetings or control their procedure. This one reform could significantly curtail the CS’s ability to dominate the policy process.
Empower Ministers and Departments: Revise the Rules of Business to delegate more authority to departmental ministers and secretaries, reducing the need for CS intervention. For instance, allow departments to directly submit proposals to the Chief Minister or cabinet on their own initiative (with due information to CS). Increase the financial approval limits of departments so that routine matters don’t climb up to CS for sign-off. Clear delineation should be made on what issues truly require coordination at CS level (e.g., multi-department disputes, emergencies, etc.) and what can be handled by individual departments. This will organically diminish the workload and clout of the CS office.
Limit Tenure and Rotation: If Chief Secretaries continue to be drawn from services for some time, an interim measure is to set a fixed tenure (say, two or three years) for a Chief Secretary in a province, during which he cannot be removed without the due process. This was somewhat attempted by civil service tenure laws but often ignored. Enforcing it would give stability and make the CS more accountable to the province’s needs rather than constantly looking over his shoulder for next transfer.
Constitutional Petition if Necessary: If executive and legislative solutions face hurdles, a provincial government or even a group of provincial legislators could seek judicial clarity from the Supreme Court on the constitutionality of federal appointment of Chief Secretaries. A strong legal argument (as outlined earlier) can be made that such federal actions are ultra vires Articles 137, 240(b), and the overall scheme of federal-provincial separation. A Supreme Court ruling, for instance, could invalidate the impugned portions of the 1954 rules or direct that provincial consent is mandatory for such postings. However, relying on courts is a double-edged sword; a better path is political consensus.
Political Will and Public Discourse: Ultimately, none of these administrative changes will occur without political will. Chief Ministers and provincial assemblies need to assert themselves. They are the ones who lose authority due to the current setup, so they should champion the cause. Building a narrative is important: the public should be made aware (through media, debates) that this is not just a bureaucratic turf issue but something that affects service delivery, federalism, and democracy. When people understand that an overly centralized bureaucracy can impede their local needs and that empowering provincial/local officials can improve accountability, there will be more support for change. Civil society and think tanks can help by publishing research and holding seminars on reforming provincial civil services. Already, pieces in media have raised the question “Do provinces need Chief Secretaries?” – bringing this from a niche debate to mainstream. Continued advocacy can push the envelope.

Abolish the Office of Chief Secretary: The office of Chief Secretary stands in direct conflict with the constitutional authority of the Chief Minister. In a cabinet-led system of governance, as practiced at the federal level, there is no parallel position undermining the executive head. The continuation of this office not only creates duality of command but also dilutes the spirit of democratic accountability. It is strongly recommended that the post of Chief Secretary be abolished to ensure clear, cabinet-based governance under the elected Chief Minister.

Good Governance as the End Goal: In implementing any reform, keep the focus on why we are doing this – to improve governance and service delivery. If abolishing the CS post simply shifts power to an equally inefficient setup, nothing is gained. So along with structural changes, pursue broader civil service reforms: merit-based appointments, performance evaluation, e-governance to reduce red-tape, clarity in rules, and cutting down colonial protocols that distance bureaucracy from citizens. A reformed system with or without a CS must deliver better than the old; otherwise, critics will point out that “at least under a strict Chief Secretary things got done” (even if by coercion). Thus, reforms should be holistic, not just removing one post but uplifting the whole administrative culture.

In conclusion, the path forward involves courageously breaking from a colonial legacy that has long outlived its usefulness. The provincial governments must seize their constitutional right to self-govern, and the federal government should graciously step back from roles it should not be performing in a federation. With thoughtful planning and a commitment to democratic principles, Pakistan can transition to a model where the office of Chief Secretary is either transformed or transcended, and the true spirit of provincial autonomy is realized.

Conclusion

The Chief Secretary’s office in Pakistan stands as a vestige of an era when centralized authority trumped local self-rule. What was once designed to serve an empire’s interests now paradoxically impedes a republic’s march toward democratic consolidation and efficient federalism. Our exploration of the issue has revealed that the Chief Secretary, as historically constituted, is a colonial relic incongruent with the 1973 Constitution’s federal-parliamentary framework. It is a provincial administrative post that, by a quirk of history and inertia, remains substantially under federal control – a situation that is legally questionable and functionally counterproductive. The concentration of administrative power in the hands of a centrally appointed bureaucrat not only contravenes the letter and spirit of provincial autonomy, but also can undermine elected provincial leadership, distort accountability, and slow down governance.

As Pakistan moves further into the third decade of the 21st century, it faces complex governance challenges that demand responsive and devolved administration. Empowering provinces – and through them, empowering local governments – is not just a constitutional formality but a practical necessity for a country of Pakistan’s size and diversity. In this context, persisting with outmoded structures like the Chief Secretary’s current role is untenable. Reforms are no longer a choice; they are an imperative. The analysis and recommendations provided here make it evident that either the office of Chief Secretary must be abolished or radically reformed and subordinated to provincial authority. There is ample constitutional basis and global precedent to support this change. It is, at heart, about completing the decolonization of Pakistan’s civil service and aligning it with the demands of a modern federal state.

Change of this magnitude is never easy – those who benefit from the status quo (such as some within the entrenched civil service elite) may resist it. However, the trajectory of history favors devolution and local empowerment. The 18th Amendment and successive waves of public awareness have shown that Pakistanis expect governance to be closer to the people and reflective of their needs. Political leaders at the provincial level have every right, and indeed a duty, to assert their constitutional prerogatives in this domain. If they do so, and if the federation heeds the call to restructure its relationship accordingly, Pakistan could see a significant improvement in administrative efficiency and public service delivery. A Chief Secretary-less (or a truly provincial Chief Secretary) model might initially be met with skepticism by some, but with safeguards and capacity-building, it promises a more accountable and agile government.

In summation, the office of Chief Secretary, as currently operating, belongs to the past and conflicts with the office of the Chief Minister which represents the people’s mandate in each province. It is a post that time and constitutional evolution have overtaken. The future – if it is to be faithful to Pakistan’s constitutional federalism – lies in empowering provincial institutions to manage their own affairs fully, whether that means having the Chief Secretary post filled by one of their own or not having the post at all. By taking this step, Pakistan will further shed the shackles of its colonial administrative legacy and move toward a governance structure that is truly by the people, of the people, and for the people at every level of the federation.

References:

The Constitution of Pakistan
Administrative Reforms, 1973
The Federal ESTA Code
Senate of Pakistan Report
Bureau Report. “KP CM asked to appoint a provincial officer as chief secretary.” Dawn, 19 August 2020
“Why is it Critical to Decolonize the Civil Services in Pakistan for Federalism and Good Governance?” Republic Policy, 2023
Muhammad Taqi Ramzan. “Serving People, Reforming Civil Service.” Courting The Law, 11 October 2021
Constitution of Pakistan 1973, Article 240 and Explanation (as amended by 18th Amendment).
Hafeez Tunio. “Tussle between CM and chief secretary deepens.” Express Tribune, 9 March 2015
The Punjab Government Rules of Business, 2011 – Functions of Chief Minister vs. Chief Secretary