In January 2025, a Senate panel formally debated amendments for the creation of a South Punjab province. In August 2025, the Governor of Punjab reiterated that the demand for a separate province would not be ignored. Earlier, in June 2025, the provincial budget once again exposed the imbalance in fiscal priorities, with South Punjab receiving only a fraction of the development funds while central Punjab absorbed the lion’s share. These developments, along with speculation about a possible 27th Amendment which, while not explicitly mentioning South Punjab, could pave the way for new provinces, have reshaped the national conversation. For the people of South Punjab, this is no longer a distant aspiration. It is a matter of dignity, fairness, and institutional presence.
For Multan, Bahawalpur, and Dera Ghazi Khan, the demand for a province is not about political symbolism. It is about governance that speaks directly to their needs. When classrooms in rural schools remain without teachers or clinics without doctors, the debate over new provinces ceases to be a matter of abstraction. It is about whether health services are available, whether local infrastructure is maintained, and whether funds are allocated with equity. A province headquartered in Multan would mean decision-making taking place closer to the people, ensuring that budgets reflect the realities of those who live in the region. The symbolic recognition would matter, but even more critical would be the tangible results in development and justice.
Furthermore, the legal community in Multan illustrates this imbalance with clarity. While the Lahore High Court has a bench in Multan, it does not host a Company Bench. Under the Companies Act of 2017, only Company Benches can adjudicate key corporate matters such as mergers, shareholder disputes, restructuring, and winding-up. This exclusion has far-reaching consequences. Businesses in South Punjab are compelled to register or shift their headquarters to Lahore to access the right forum for corporate litigation. Civil courts are barred from intervening in these cases, so parties have little choice but to bear the additional costs of engaging counsel and maintaining presence in Lahore. The result is a systemic discouragement of corporate activity in Multan.
Moreover, this trend has weakened Multan’s potential as a hub of commercial practice. Law firms that might otherwise have thrived in handling high-value corporate disputes see their practice limited, while entrepreneurs are burdened with unnecessary expenses. The migration of head offices to Lahore is not simply a business preference but a direct response to the judicial geography that sidelines South Punjab. For local lawyers, the lack of opportunities in corporate litigation forces many to either restrict their practice to smaller-scale civil and criminal cases or to relocate to Lahore themselves. In this sense, the absence of a Company Bench does not just affect businesses, it curtails professional growth and hinders the emergence of a strong corporate legal culture in Multan.
However, it would be misleading to claim that Multan is devoid of judicial institutions. The city hosts a Banking Court that handles recovery suits between lenders and borrowers, a facility that has reduced delays in resolving financial disputes. An Appellate Tribunal Inland Revenue bench functions in Multan, offering taxpayers a forum to challenge tax assessments without having to travel to Lahore or Karachi. A Special Court for Customs, Taxation, and Anti-Smuggling also exists, playing a vital role for trade professionals in the region. Labour Courts are present to address industrial and employment disputes, and in 2025 an Intellectual Property Tribunal was also added to Multan’s judicial framework. These institutions demonstrate that the decentralization of justice is both possible and beneficial.
Even with these advancements, the gap remains stark. Appeals in areas like environmental regulation, provincial sales tax on services, and a wide range of commercial disputes still require recourse to Lahore. The absence of a Company Bench in particular has become symbolic of the broader imbalance, serving as a constant reminder that certain kinds of justice are simply not available locally. For a region that prides itself on being a commercial and cultural hub, this is more than an inconvenience. It is a structural barrier to growth.
The debate is not simply about creating another province on paper. It is about reimagining what justice and opportunity look like when decision-making is brought closer to the people. Whether this vision becomes reality will determine if the promise of South Punjab remains political rhetoric, or if it evolves into justice for the people and opportunity for the lawyers.
If a South Punjab province were established with Multan as its capital, the judicial map would change dramatically. A new High Court, complete with a Company Bench, would allow companies to litigate locally. This would encourage firms to retain their headquarters in Multan, stimulate economic activity, and give lawyers the chance to expand their practice into corporate law. The presence of senior advocates specializing in commercial matters would create mentorship opportunities for junior lawyers, deepening the professional capacity of the Multan Bar. Over time, this could establish Multan as a center of legal excellence in its own right, rather than a satellite dependent on Lahore.
Moreover, the broader picture is one of fairness and representation. When the Senate engaged with the South Punjab question earlier this year, and when the Governor reiterated the promise more recently, these were not empty signals. They represented a growing recognition that the status quo is neither sustainable nor justifiable. The provincial budget further highlighted the urgency by allocating resources in a manner that left South Punjab underfunded, exposing the deeply ingrained inequities in fiscal policy. To call this merely unfair would be to understate its impact. It directly affects classrooms, hospitals, and livelihoods across millions of people.
Indeed, critics argue that creating a new province would be administratively costly and politically complicated. There is some truth in that. But the costs of the current arrangement are equally, if not more, damaging. Each business forced to shift its headquarters north represents lost economic activity for the south. Each lawyer denied the chance to practice at the highest levels in their hometown represents lost talent. Each rupee redirected away from South Punjab represents lost development. At some point, maintaining this imbalance becomes more expensive than correcting it.
The question is whether the current moment will bring transformation or fade into history as yet another round of promises. For the people of South Punjab, a new province would mean
services and governance rooted in their reality. For businesses, it would mean efficiency and predictability. For lawyers, it would mean the opportunity to practice corporate law at home. In this alignment of law, economics, and governance lies the true promise of South Punjab.
The debate is not simply about creating another province on paper. It is about reimagining what justice and opportunity look like when decision-making is brought closer to the people. Whether this vision becomes reality will determine if the promise of South Punjab remains political rhetoric, or if it evolves into justice for the people and opportunity for the lawyers.
