A thick, toxic smog has shut down life in Pakistan's second largest city, Lahore, home to more than 14 million residents.
Schools, offices and public spaces are closed.
That came after a senior provincial minister called for a "green lockdown." The minister, Marriyum Aurangzeb, is in charge of environmental protection and climate change in Pakistan's most populous province, Punjab. She said the lockdown was in response to "severe smog" — so bad that UNICEF's representative in Pakistan, Abdullah Fadil, said the smog was visible from space. He estimated that more than 11 million children under 5 years old were in the worst impacted areas and said that the air pollution would "have devastating effects."
In a statement, he said, "Young children are most affected by air pollution because they have smaller lungs and lack the immunities that come with age. They also breathe twice as fast as adults and take in more air, often through the mouth, along with pollutants, leading to life-threatening respiratory diseases."
Authorities cracked down on many sources of pollution. Cars and trucks were checked to measure their engine exhaust emissions. Brick kilns were shut down — they emit plumes of black smoke through chimneys — as were plastic-melting plants. Local media reported that several food outlets in a part of Lahore called Model Town were shuttered because they were emitting what authorities said was excessive smoke. An official notification warned that violators would be punished.
The lockdown is expected to last until November 17, when it will be re-assessed.
In addition to the lockdown, Aurangazeb, the minister, called on neighboring India to participate in a smog mitigation plan for the first time; the local press is calling it "smog diplomacy." That's because some of the smog that has settled across Pakistan was blown in from India. Farmers on both sides of the border burn the stubble off their harvested fields throughout the winter to make way for new planting, and that smoke provides the basis for smog. But critics say Pakistan's governments have used that smoke-laden wind from their neighbor as an excuse to not take serious action against air pollution, which typically comes from local emissions.
If you want to size up this crisis by the numbers, consider this: According to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, an air quality index of 300 to 500 is hazardous; at levels that high, people should stay indoors to protect their lungs. The Air Quality index, or AQI, measures fine particulate matter in the air — the grit that makes the air go grey, even black. On November 5, in Lahore, the AQI surged to over 1,000. On November 8 in the southern Pakistani city of Multan — more than two hundred miles from Lahore — the AQI exceeded 2,000.
Ahmad Rafay Alam is an environmental lawyer in Lahore and has long been at the forefront of clean air activism in Pakistan. In 2003, he co-founded Saleem, Alam & Co., a law consultancy firm that specializes in sustainable energy, water and natural resources in urban areas. He advises Pakistan's provincial governments, the World Bank, Asian Development Bank, International Finance Corporation and international non-profits on environmental policy and sustainability.
![Ahmad Rafay Alam, an environmental lawyer in Pakistan, is frustrated by the government's failure to address air pollution. He describes the current smog crisis in Lahore as "terrible. Your eyes water all the time. When you look out the window, you can't see very far. You can't even see a blue sky. But you can see the pollution [that] hangs thick in the air. It smells acrid. It's like inhaling traces of charcoal."](https://npr.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/dc78e6f/2147483647/strip/true/crop/5687x4265+0+0/resize/840x630!/format/webp/quality/90/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fnpr.brightspotcdn.com%2Fdims3%2Fdefault%2Fstrip%2Ffalse%2Fcrop%2F5687x4265%20355%200%2Fresize%2F5687x4265%21%2F%3Furl%3Dhttp%3A%2F%2Fnpr-brightspot.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fb8%2F76%2Fd872b6b14ee8838ac733ab460f4c%2Fgettyimages-1190909478.jpg)
Alam spoke to NPR about the stifling smog over a video call. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.
News reports have referred to the rising levels of air pollution in Lahore as "apocalyptic smog that is baffling authorities." Are these reports true? And what is baffling about it?
Yes, the reports are true. My city is unlivable and I'm still digesting that news. It's painful.
As an environmental lawyer, I've been looking at air pollution in Lahore and other Pakistani cities for close to 10 years now. And to see it gradually get worse and worse to a point where it's now at the worst I've ever seen it -- it's a tragedy.
How can we get people in other countries to relate to how this feels like? What is it like to live in a city where the AQI regularly exceeds 1,000?
It's terrible.
Your eyes water all the time.
When you look out the window, you can't see very far. You can't even see a blue sky. But you can see the pollution [that] hangs thick in the air. It smells acrid. It's like inhaling traces of charcoal.
Life as you know it, shuts down. There have been notifications issued to shut down schools. You can't go to any public places. The parks and recreational areas have been closed.
Yesterday the motorway between Lahore and Islamabad was shut because the pollution is so widespread throughout the province that it was unsafe to drive [because of low visibility].
I had to go out with my 18-year-old daughter yesterday. We went to some of the Lahore Biennale venues, which is a contemporary art exhibit and it was the last weekend before it concluded. This year's Biennale was titled "Of the Mountains and Seas" and focused on ecologies and climate change. It was ironic that its last weekend concluded with elevated air pollution levels. Within 15 minutes of our stepping outside, my daughter complained of a headache. Some people find it difficult to breathe. And you can tell, I'm a bit congested myself right now. I've got an air purifier working constantly in my office.
In January this year, over 240 children in Pakistan's Punjab province died of pneumonia. And pneumonia is a respiratory disease.
Would you agree that the poor bear much of this burden?
Yes, it's poor people that are facing the brunt of the air pollution crisis because they have no means to protect themselves from it.
What are the primary sources of the pollution in and around Lahore? Are there any short-term and long-term solutions?
Given the scarce data we have in Pakistan, there are several reports that crunch numbers and suggest that 45% of the year-round air pollution comes from tailpipe emissions — the automobile emissions from motor cars, trucks and rickshaws and motorbikes. Much of it is because of the low-quality fuel that we use in our transport sector. These reports suggest that another approximately 40% of the air pollution comes from industrial emissions and energy production.
If this is correct, then we have to improve fuel quality by upgrading refineries, improving engine standards, moving to renewable energy. None of that is cheap nor is it short-term.
It takes years to upgrade refineries, to move on to renewables, to get industry involved.
And of course, we must regulate and deal with seasonal crop burning that takes place as well, which adds to the pollution. So far, changing the attitudes of farmers who believe that stubble burning is still the most effective and cost-efficient way [to clear their fields and get them ready for the next planting season] has been hard too.
So everything has to happen at once and over the course of years before we're going to see any difference.
The only short-term solution is: Pray for rain.
As you note, there are many sources of pollution. If the main sources of pollution happen all year through, what is causing the spike this season? Is that what's baffling authorities?
Yes, we're still trying to understand the mix of factors that causes this.
What are the theories about this year's unprecedented smog?
For one, the change of seasons has an impact on pollution.
In [April and May], hot air rises and the cooler air sinks, easing pollution. Then you've got the monsoon [from June to September] that washes away a lot of the pollution too.
But once the monsoon ends, there's no longer a way to mitigate the smog?
That's right. [From late October to March] when temperatures start getting lower, the current crisis begins. Hot air doesn't rise anymore. The pollution sticks closer to the ground than it normally would. You can see it and its intensity is a lot more.
The burning of leftover paddy stalks by rice farmers, to clear their fields in order to plant wheat, is an age-old — and stubbornly persistent — problem. Farmers in both India and Pakistan tend to do this. What can be done about this?
Solutions — like a concoction of fungi that dissolve the stalks — exist, but it's challenging to implement on a large scale.
India has tried subsidies [to farmers], moving people to millet diets to lessen demand for rice and wheat, [and] seeing if you can use the crop residue as biomass fuel. We've tried arresting farmers, subsidizing them, providing Happy Seeders [special tractors that can pulp the residue and clear fields faster]. It's a significant problem which requires focus and attention to address. And I think that's lacking when it comes to addressing [air] pollution as a whole as well. No one solution will work. It will take a number of initiatives, rolled out at the same time, over years, to resolve this issue.
Can governance and official policies make a difference?
Absolutely. In both India and Pakistan, air pollution is evidence of poor governance -- the inability of lawmakers to keep up with what's happening and to address the different types of pollution.
And we need more than policy measures to address it.
Like I said, the solutions to air pollution, given the limited information that we have, are long-term. [It] will take time and money. It'll take longer than 5-year election cycle. And I don't see that happening, especially given Pakistan's fractured politics present.
We've had politicians fighting for their liberties because there's infighting and interference [from the military] in our democratic system. And that prevents politicians from responding to the needs of their electorate. Their attention is on trying to save themselves.
Do you think this is something that Pakistan can resolve on its own? Or would some kind of collaboration with neighboring countries be beneficial?
When you look at satellite data, especially at this time of year, you see a blanket of haze from Kabul [in Afghanistan] to Dhaka [in Bangladesh]. It's really a problem. And it's a regional issue.
When you look at it that way, it raises questions of how countries could collaborate on improving air quality. In 1998, there was the SAARC Malé Declaration on Control and Prevention of Air Pollution, where South Asian countries were supposed to come together, collaborate, improve their monitoring and share data on air pollution. That hasn't gone anywhere. And it's difficult to envisage what an air pollution agreement between India and Pakistan would look like. And right now, with the [strained] relations between Delhi and Islamabad, I don't see much hope for a regional agreement on air pollution.
What describes your attitude best? Deeply pessimistic about things ever changing? Guardedly optimistic? You say you don't see change happening easily. Yet you're still pushing for policy measures.
Well, I try not to take it personally. We as a group [of concerned citizens and activists] — my associates, my colleagues, the Pakistan Air Quality Initiative [a citizen's movement against air pollution] — they're all heroes. And we have written articles in newspapers, we've been on TV and done blogs. Friends of ours have produced a feature length documentary. We've held protests, we've had sit-ins and rallies. I've filed public interest litigations in the High Court. We've been to the Supreme Court of Pakistan, we've spoken to the Senate and National assembly standing committees on climate change and human rights. And nothing has changed. So I'm mildly frustrated.
Only mildly frustrated?
That must be the understatement of the year. I have learnt not to take activism personally. One just keeps going. It's frustrating when things don't work the way they're supposed to.
But I'm not going to give up.
Kamala Thiagarajan is a freelance journalist based in Madurai, Southern India. She reports on global health, science, and development, and her work has been published in the New York Times, The British Medical Journal, BBC, The Guardian and other outlets. You can find her on X @kamal_t
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