Not all transformations begin with upheaval. Some of the most impactful changes come through quiet negotiations, patient reforms, and the willingness to examine hard truths. In Pakistan, one such truth lies at the heart of its food economy: the deepening debate over wheat pricing. What seems like a simple policy matter is in fact a reflection of broader questions about equity, power, and the economic model we wish to pursue.
Wheat is not just a crop, it is the daily sustenance of millions, the anchor of our rural economy, and a symbol of national stability. Yet its price has become the epicentre of a complex tug-of-war. On one side are farmers, particularly large-scale cultivators, who demand that the government purchase wheat at higher-than-market rates. On the other side is a population struggling to afford basic food items, already battered by inflation and stagnant incomes. The state stands in the middle, attempting to balance these opposing pressures.
In moments of market prosperity, when prices surge beyond government-set rates, as they did last year, touching Rs. 3400 per maund, farmers advocate for deregulation and free-market access. But in downturns, the chorus shifts to calls for fixed prices and state bailouts. This duality reveals a critical inconsistency: the push for policy flexibility only when it serves immediate gain. It raises an ethical concern, should public policy cater to shifting self-interest or remain grounded in long-term fairness? This isn’t a simplistic divide between big and small farmers. The challenge transcends farm size. The real issue is the sustainability of a system that is expected to absorb private risk while delivering public benefit.
The government’s role in setting prices and intervening in markets is not just economic, it is social. It ensures food security, tempers volatility, and protects the purchasing power of the most vulnerable. Yet, when expectations of profit eclipse the need for balance, the result is tension, inefficiency, and unrest. In response to the current crisis, the government has introduced a multi-pronged approach.
The Kisan Card has been rolled out, offering structured financial support to farmers for future cultivation. Storage mechanisms have also been revamped, excess wheat can now be stored in government facilities, with the Punjab government subsidizing four months of rent. Farmers receive digital receipts that allow them to borrow up to 70% of the wheat’s value, interest-free from Punjab Bank. This innovative solution provides liquidity without dumping stock into the market, allowing prices to stabilize organically. The government has further incentivized higher productivity and waived agricultural taxes, easing burdens on growers.
Yet, despite these proactive steps, dissatisfaction lingers. Farmer groups persist in demanding increased procurement prices, often framing the issue as an all-or-nothing proposition. But this rigid posture risks undermining broader economic health. When wheat prices are driven up by political pressure rather than supply-demand realities, the cost is borne not by policymakers but by ordinary families who cannot afford to pay more for flour, roti, or bread.
What is truly at stake here is not just a price point, but the principles that should underpin our agricultural economy. If food security is to be treated as a national priority, then we must build a model that protects both those who grow our food and those who consume it. That means fair prices for farmers, yes, but also affordable staples for the public. The moment we allow policy to be dictated by selective convenience or coercive demands, we risk undermining the very integrity of the system. This issue cannot be solved by temporary fixes or political placation. Wheat pricing in Pakistan has become a mirror reflecting deeper flaws in our economic reasoning and public policy approach. The expectation that the state should subsidize profits in downturns while remaining absent in booms is economically unsustainable and ethically indefensible.
The notion that one group regardless of its role in the supply chain can dictate national food policy according to its interests sets a dangerous precedent. When farmers demand market freedom only when prices are favourable, and insist on government intervention when they are not, they are not asking for fairness; they are asking for privilege. That cannot be the basis of a just economic system. The government, for its part, must recognize that food pricing is not just a matter of procurement, it is a matter of national security and social equity.
The state’s duty is not to please one interest group but to maintain balance, uphold the public good, and ensure that essential commodities like wheat remain accessible to all. It must not be coerced into decisions that distort the economy, burden the poor, and weaken public trust.
A rational and principled policy must replace political bargaining. Prices must reflect a balance between cost of production and the affordability threshold of the average Pakistani household. Subsidies and support systems should be data-driven, time-bound, and strictly targeted, not open-ended safety nets for powerful lobbies. Pakistan cannot afford to let its food security be compromised by selective self-interest. If we are to build an economy that is resilient, fair, and grounded in long-term thinking, we must address the wheat price conundrum not as an annual crisis, but as a systemic challenge that demands structural reform, not appeasement.
