On paper, Pakistan’s conservation initiatives are growing. The spaces that link such protected areas are disappearing for wildlife on the ground. The same question continues coming up everywhere, from the Himalayas to the Salt Range and the Indus River: who is responsible for safeguarding the habitat that lies between these boundaries?

At the heart of Pakistan’s biodiversity crisis lies a largely overlooked problem: protected areas cannot effectively conserve wildlife if they remain isolated from one another. Pakistan has expanded its protected-area network, with its Seventh National Report to the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) reporting that around 20% of the country’s territory is now covered by protected and conserved areas. Yet the same conservation framework highlights the importance of ecological connectivity, while the CBD’s assessment of Pakistan’s protected-area connectivity found that only a much smaller proportion of the country’s protected areas were effectively connected. This matters because wildlife depends on connected habitats to move, reproduce, access food and water, and maintain genetic diversity. The Kunming–Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework’s Target 3 therefore does not simply call for conserving 30% of land and waters by 2030; it specifically requires conservation areas to be “well-connected” and integrated into wider landscapes. In Pakistan, the challenge is consequently not only to increase the number of protected areas, but to protect the ecological corridors that allow wildlife to move between them.

However, the amount of green on a map is not a sufficient indicator of conservation. This difference is made by the global biodiversity standard that Pakistan adheres too. Conservation areas must be incorporated into the larger landscape and be ecologically representative, well-connected and equitably governed as mentioned in CBD Kunming-Montreal Target 3

The issue is increasingly evident in the high mountains. The Western Tragopan, a highly endangered bird in the western Himalayas, exists in areas that are inadequately safeguarded. An assessment of 26 protected areas determined that Machiara National Park received a management effectiveness rating of only 41%, and many of the other reserves similarly exhibited weak management. Even more alarming, these safeguarded regions encompass merely around 2% of the bird’s entire habitat. In many parts of the remaining area, researchers discovered a complete absence of any dedicated conservation program. The outcome is a species that, while it may officially inhabit a network of protected regions, is largely vulnerable throughout the majority of its habitat.

This inability to protect habitats outside of official bounds is not specific to montane bird species; rather, it highlights a persistent design problem that affects other species and ecosystems throughout Pakistan. Ecological ecosystems naturally span larger, continuous landscapes, but governmental preservation measures are still tightly limited to sanctuary bounds.

A similar pattern reemerges among large carnivores. A 2025 investigation published in Ecosphere on northern Pakistan’s common leopard population found a feasible habitat area of around 4,543 square kilometers, of which about seven-tenths were concentrated in six large contiguous blocks. However, only one continuous area large enough for a breeding female was contained within the park’s legal limits, and the remaining terrain was gradually deteriorated by growing road infrastructure and human settlements.

The same systemic problem reappears when one moves south into the dry hill systems. A 2026 study of the endangered Punjab urial in the Salt Range showed that whereas poaching hotspots immediately overlapped crucial urial ranges, the remaining migration pathways were becoming compressed into core pockets due to the construction of artificial barriers by roads, tourism, and fencing. When combined, these three different studies from alpine predators and ungulates in the dry hills to high-altitude pheasants in the Himalayas directly highlight a single, overarching design flaw: Pakistan’s conservation system places a great deal of emphasis on island-like protected zones while leaving the vital connecting habitats entirely unmonitored and unprotected.

This gap in governance among assigned reserves highlights a key structural defect in Pakistan’s environmental management system. Wildlife organizations protect particular animal species and reserves, whereas environmental protection bodies manage developmental impact evaluations. At the same time, forest agencies oversee timber areas, water management bodies control river currents, and local government entities decide on urban development and infrastructure expansion. Nonetheless, a thorough examination of the nation’s legal structure reveals that regional wildlife agencies have jurisdiction solely within park limits, rendering adjacent areas entirely beyond their regulatory control, as noted in study on Pakistan’s national-park policies and laws.

Under existing legal mechanisms, developmental ventures posing potential ecological harm require Initial Environmental Examinations or Environmental Impact Assessments, empowering regulatory bodies to impose stipulations or deny approval entirely, as outlined in Section 12 of the Pakistan Environmental Protection Act. Yet, this framework exposes a vital question that demands deeper public scrutiny: when linear infrastructure, residential expansion, or commercial tourism developments sever vital migratory pathways between habitats without encroaching upon designated park boundaries, which state entity bears accountability for the resulting landscape fragmentation?

This is not a claim that Pakistan hasn’t taken any action. Pakistan really provides proof that long-term involvement is effective. Through conservation, rescue, community involvement, and improved fishing methods, the number of Indus river dolphins has increased from a few hundred to about 2,000. However, barrages continue to split its habitat into isolated river segments, serving as a reminder that protecting a species does not always equate to restoring its biological environment, as also noted in WWF-Pakistan on the Indus river dolphin recovery.

Additionally, there is a significant indication that decision-makers are starting to acknowledge the disparity. While the UNDP claims that biodiversity concerns are being followed throughout infrastructure, agriculture, forestry, fisheries, and extractive sectors, Pakistan’s new biodiversity program includes mapping Key Biodiversity Areas, natural corridors, and restoration zones. UNDP’s Pakistan biodiversity programme Additionally, the government’s 2026 biodiversity objectives explicitly call for administrative and legislative measures to keep an eye on how business and development activities affect biodiversity.

Ultimately, Pakistan needs to look beyond just adding protected hectares and focus on actual habitat accountability. Before any major development project gets the green light in an ecologically sensitive zone, decision-makers must answer four critical questions: What habitat is being lost? Which natural corridor is being severed? Which species will end up isolated? And who in government is responsible for preventing that damage? Back in 2020, when the Protected Areas Initiative was launched, an IUCN article pointed out a stark reality regarding the country’s 398 notified protected areas: not a single one was truly protected through effective governance and management.

Pakistan has significantly expanded its network of protected areas in the years thereafter. However, the fundamental obstacle is still far more difficult. Protecting the overall ecological interconnectedness that enables species to survive is just as important for effective conservation as protecting specific wildlife sanctuaries. Without this integration, Pakistan runs the risk of meeting its 30% paper target while uncontrolled gaps cause local wildlife to silently disappear.

Changing from strict boundaries to comprehensive landscape management is necessary to ensure true ecological viability. State aims can only be in line with operational reality by enforcing institutional cooperation, requiring habitat inspections during planning, and legally protecting important migratory routes. Decision-makers must decide whether to allow national sanctuaries to split into separate refuges that are unable to support their animals or to legally integrate habitat linkages now.

About the Author:

Zunaira Zahid is Legal Officer at Accountability Lab Pakistan and can be reached at zunaira@accountabilitylab.org