Rebuilding Hope Through Resilient Schools in Sindh

Educational debates in Pakistan usually begin with schools and end with universities. Somewhere in between lies a vast public college network that has quietly undergone a transformation without receiving the reforms necessary to sustain it. For decades, colleges were viewed merely as institutions imparting Intermediate education. That perception is now obsolete. Government colleges across Pakistan award four-year BS degrees, supervise undergraduate research, implement semester systems, and produce graduates completing sixteen years of education. They have become institutions of higher education in every meaningful sense except in the standards by which they recruit, promote and evaluate their faculty. The real crisis begins not when institutions disappear but when they continue to exist while quietly abandoning the purpose they were meant to serve. Pakistan’s college education system increasingly reflects this uncomfortable reality. Buildings stand, classrooms remain occupied, salaries are paid and degrees continue to be awarded, yet the intellectual purpose that ought to define higher education is steadily weakening. The system continues to function, but it no longer asks whether it is producing scholars, researchers and critical thinkers or merely issuing degrees. This contradiction is not merely administrative. It is national. Countries do not build knowledge economies simply by increasing enrolment or opening new campuses. They do so by ensuring that those entrusted with educating the next generation possess the intellectual depth, scholarly discipline and professional integrity demanded by higher education. Pakistan has expanded the responsibilities of its colleges without fundamentally reforming the standards governing those who teach in them. It is this mismatch between expanding responsibilities and stagnant reforms that explains much of the present crisis. History offers repeated warnings against confusing continuity with progress. Great civilisations have seldom been defeated by ignorance alone; far more often, they have been weakened by their refusal to reform. Ancient Troy believed its mighty walls guaranteed safety until destruction entered concealed within the famous wooden horse. Institutions, too, often collapse not because external forces overwhelm them but because internal weaknesses become too familiar to recognise. Pakistan’s colleges face a similar danger. The greatest threat is not inadequate infrastructure or declining enrolment. It is the quiet normalisation of standards that no longer correspond with the responsibilities these institutions now carry. Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than in faculty recruitment. Every education system is ultimately only as strong as the people it appoints to teach. Laboratories, libraries and curricula matter, but they cannot compensate for weak academic recruitment. A nation’s classrooms reflect the intellectual standards it establishes at the point of entry into the profession. Countries that consistently perform well in higher education understand this principle with remarkable clarity. Finland recruits teachers from among its highest-performing graduates and treats teaching as one of the country’s most competitive professions. Singapore invests heavily in teacher selection, structured professional development and continuous evaluation throughout an educator’s career. South Korea subjects aspiring academics to rigorous competition, while Germany closely links academic progression with scholarly achievement and research productivity. These countries differ in culture, politics and economic history, yet they share one conviction that higher education depends first and foremost upon the quality of its faculty. Pakistan, regrettably, often operates on a different assumption. Recruitment is frequently treated as the culmination of academic achievement rather than its beginning. A lecturer appointed with only a sixteen years education may spend an entire career within the same system without acquiring higher qualifications or contributing substantially to research, yet still retire after holding senior academic positions carrying the titles of Associate Professor or Professor. Such a framework might have appeared understandable when colleges were primarily institutions for Intermediate education. It becomes increasingly indefensible once those same institutions award undergraduate degrees equivalent to those offered by universities. Academic titles should signify scholarly accomplishment rather than the mere passage of time. Across the world, the designation of Professor represents sustained intellectual contribution, recognised research, advanced qualifications and academic leadership. When promotion depends overwhelmingly upon seniority rather than scholarship, titles gradually lose their meaning. The loss is not symbolic alone. It diminishes public confidence in higher education itself. This is not an argument against experience. Experience remains indispensable in teaching. A seasoned educator often possesses insights that no newly qualified academic can immediately acquire. Classrooms are enriched by years of interaction with students, evolving pedagogical techniques and practical wisdom accumulated over decades. Experience, however, should complement scholarship, not replace it. Knowledge no longer remains static for an entire career. Disciplines evolve at astonishing speed. Artificial Intelligence is reshaping linguistics, medicine, engineering, law and the humanities alike. Climate science has transformed environmental studies. Digital humanities have altered literary scholarship. Advances in neuroscience continue redefining educational psychology. A qualification earned thirty years ago, valuable though it remains, cannot alone certify mastery over fields that have changed beyond recognition. Medicine provides an obvious comparison. No patient would willingly place complete trust in a surgeon who had never updated professional knowledge after graduation. Engineers continually adapt to changing technologies and safety standards. Judges engage with evolving constitutional interpretation. Military officers undergo regular professional education throughout their service. Every serious profession recognises that learning is continuous. Higher education cannot become the sole profession where intellectual growth effectively ends with appointment. The irony is that Pakistan’s college sector contains thousands of exceptionally capable teachers who have voluntarily pursued MPhil and PhD degrees despite limited institutional incentives. Many complete advanced research while balancing heavy teaching schedules, administrative responsibilities and family obligations. Their commitment deserves recognition because it reflects a genuine desire to improve professionally rather than merely fulfil formal requirements. Yet the existing structure frequently sends the opposite message. Promotion often rewards waiting more consistently than learning. When advanced qualifications receive insufficient institutional value, the incentive to pursue rigorous scholarship inevitably weakens. No education system can flourish if intellectual ambition appears optional while seniority remains sufficient. The anomaly becomes even more striking when one examines the present hierarchy within many public colleges. It is no longer uncommon to find an MPhil-qualified lecturer or even a PhD serving under an officer whose highest

Since 1949, China has been developing a model of the Socialist Market Economy with Chinese Characteristics (SMECC). These efforts accelerated after the introduction of the 1978 reforms. President Xi’s rise to leadership of the CPC has added new dimensions and dynamics to the process of creating the SMECC model. President Xi believes that the Socialist Market Economy with Chinese Characteristics (SMECC) is an integral part of Socialism with Chinese Characteristics and a Community with a Shared Future. The SMECC model promotes the market by acknowledging its role in allocating resources and driving market volatility. At the same time, the SMECC model gives due weight to the state’s role. Rather than placing the leading role on the market, it places it on the state and institutions to ensure fair markets, equal opportunities, and fair competition among market participants, so the market functions smoothly. In a nutshell, market forces drive volatility to unlock the full potential of resources and markets; the state protects people’s interests, especially those of marginalized segments of society, the state, and the private sector. However, China believes it cannot build an SMECC model without establishing mutually beneficial economic linkages with other countries. To achieve this goal, China adopted opening up as a core objective of its reforms and has pursued it with sincere dedication since 1978. President Xi refined the concept and introduced the slogan of high-quality opening up, meaning that opening up must benefit people, not only businessmen or the state. He has made high-quality opening up an integral part of the Chinese economy in the New Era. Moreover, President Xi Jinping envisioned that China must open up to play a positive and leading role on the global stage. China adopted a comprehensive policy and plan to ensure high-quality opening up. First, to strengthen opening up, China deemed it necessary to invite the global business community to invest in the Chinese market. Thus, China began engaging foreign investors by expanding the catalog of encouraged industries for foreign investment, including new areas. Over the last decade, the catalog has changed significantly. In 2017, the catalog had 987 items. Of those, 348 were national, and 639 were regional and area-specific. The list has seen a major turnaround since then, and the 2025 catalog has 1678 items. It includes 619 national-level items, and 1060 are region-specific. The major objectives of expanding the catalog are 1) to encourage investment in manufacturing and supply chains, 2) to encourage investment in the Western region, and 3) to integrate the development of services, manufacturing sectors, and investment in the untapped Northern region. In the 2025 catalog, China focuses on: 10) Development and production of nucleic acid pharmaceuticals; 2) R&D and manufacturing of zero‑magnetic medical devices; 3)Smart testing and inspection instruments; 4) High-speed cameras and precision imaging equipment; 5) Intelligent energy management systems and related monitoring devices; 6) Design and production of deep-sea robots and specialized marine equipment; 7) Key technologies for gas-fired power equipment; and 8) R&D and production of core components for industrial robots. Simultaneously, China offers incentives such as tax exemptions on imported equipment, preferential land access, and lower corporate income tax. For example, China has introduced special incentives for investment in the Western region, including a 15% corporate income tax rate if the investor meets certain criteria. The government will also offer a special tax exemption for reinvestment in the country. Industrial land will be provided on a priority basis, and the base price for land transfer has been reduced by up to 70% to support industry setup. Moreover, equipment for self-use will receive a customs duty exemption. Second, President Xi has taken many innovative steps to accelerate and deepen opening up, with the China International Import Expo (CIIE) standing out above all. CIIE is a unique initiative in human history, as no other country has ever launched an import expo. This demonstrates the Chinese leadership’s determination to foster mutually beneficial economic linkages. It counters the liberal economic philosophy, which focuses on maximizing profit without giving due regard to others’ interests. CIIE is changing this traditional concept and trying to present a mutually beneficial model for global trade. Third, the launch of island-wide independent customs operations in the Hainan Free Port is another initiative that demonstrates China’s willingness to create more opportunities for the world. It is a step ahead of previous initiatives and aligns with President Xi’s vision. President Xi believes that amid a wave of protectionism, restrictions, anti-globalization movements, trade wars, and a my-country-first mentality, China must act as a beacon of hope for global economic development and globalization. To do so, China must deepen reforms and create concrete opportunities, not just talk. Therefore, the initiative is not only facilitating trade but also providing space for the global community to explore a new world of opportunities. How? It brings global businesses to Hainan FTP, where they interact to find opportunities not only in China but also in other countries. Data show that 9,600 foreign enterprises operate in Hainan, and investors from 170 countries and regions have invested. Fourth, China is not only inviting investment but also working to bridge the global investment gap. This is another way to create linkages and further open the Chinese market and economy to build the SMECC model. Therefore, China launched the Belt and Road Initiative to create economic opportunities. China has invested almost US$ 1.5 trillion and mobilized more than US$ 3 trillion from other countries and sources. China has also enhanced trade with BRI countries. China also launched the Global Development Initiative to help the world pursue sustainable development. According to data, China has invested more than US$ 23 billion under GDI. Moreover, China established the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank to meet countries’ investment needs and bridge the investment gap. In 2025, total investment disbursements exceeded US$ 38 billion. China is also deepening economic openness through its modernization drive. President Xi believes that to achieve modernization objectives, China must be deeply engaged with other economies worldwide. The 15th Five-Year Plan further

The legality of a constitutional settlement cannot compensate for the absence of time, preparation and protection required to implement it The collapse of the Cabinet Mission Plan did more than extinguish the last comprehensive attempt to preserve a united India. It transformed a constitutional dispute into an administrative and humanitarian emergency. Indian National Congress proceeded with the Constituent Assembly, the Muslim League withdrew its acceptance of the Plan, and political distrust increasingly gave way to confrontation. Communal violence spread across different parts of India, demonstrating that the approaching transfer of power could no longer be treated simply as an exercise in constitutional drafting. By the beginning of 1947, Britain had reached a decisive conclusion. Its rule in India could not continue indefinitely, while no constitution acceptable to all the principal political parties had emerged. On February 20, 1947, Prime Minister Clement Attlee announced that British authority would be transferred to Indian hands no later than June 1948. The statement also acknowledged that, in the absence of an agreed constitution, Britain would have to determine whether power should pass to a central authority, provincial governments or some other arrangement. The possibility of more than one successor authority had now entered official policy. Lord Louis Mountbatten arrived as the last Viceroy in March 1947 with a mandate to supervise this transfer. He inherited a political order already close to collapse. The Cabinet Mission framework had ceased to command common confidence, the interim government was paralysed by rivalry between Congress and the Muslim League, and communal violence had exposed the fragility of provincial administration. Mountbatten’s task was not to negotiate within a stable constitutional environment. It was to construct a settlement while the institutions through which it had to be implemented were rapidly disintegrating. The central question was whether the deadline of June 1948 provided sufficient time to undertake an orderly transfer or whether delay would deepen violence and political uncertainty. Mountbatten chose acceleration. On June 3, 1947, the British Government announced a plan under which British India could be divided and power transferred to two successor governments. Punjab and Bengal would decide whether they should themselves be partitioned; separate constituent assemblies could emerge; and referendums would determine the future of the North-West Frontier Province and the Sylhet district of Assam. The date for transfer was brought forward from June 1948 to August 1947. The acceleration was defended as a response to deteriorating conditions. British authority was weakening, communal violence was spreading and the principal political parties had accepted that Partition had become unavoidable. Mountbatten and his supporters believed that a definite and immediate date would end uncertainty and compel the parties to assume responsibility. The opposing view deserves equal attention. A constitutional transformation of such magnitude required the division of provinces, armed forces, civil services, financial assets, railways, irrigation systems, records and administrative institutions. It required the establishment of two governments and the settlement of territorial boundaries affecting millions of people. Compressing this process into a few weeks inevitably reduced the time available for administrative preparation, security arrangements and the protection of vulnerable communities. The question is therefore not simply whether British withdrawal had become inevitable. It plainly had. The more difficult question is whether the decision to advance the transfer by approximately ten months converted political urgency into administrative recklessness. The Indian Independence Act received Royal Assent on July 18, 1947. It provided that two independent Dominions—India and Pakistan—would be established from August 15, 1947. It partitioned Punjab and Bengal, empowered the respective constituent assemblies to legislate for the new Dominions and terminated British responsibility for governing India. Parliamentary sovereignty, exercised from London for generations, legislated itself out of the subcontinent in an extraordinarily compressed period. The legal instrument was concise. Partition was not. An Act of Parliament could establish two Dominions, confer legislative authority and terminate imperial jurisdiction. It could not divide villages, canals, railway lines, police forces, military units, families and centuries of shared social existence with comparable simplicity. Constitutional law could provide a date for independence, but it could not by itself produce the administrative capacity necessary to manage the consequences of territorial division. The most visible illustration of this haste was the work of the Punjab and Bengal Boundary Commissions. Sir Cyril Radcliffe was appointed to chair both bodies and was required to determine the boundaries separating Muslim-majority and non-Muslim-majority areas. The task involved densely populated territories in which religious communities, agricultural systems, transport networks and commercial centres were deeply interwoven. He was given only a matter of weeks to complete it. Punjab and Bengal could not be divided by applying census figures mechanically. District-level majorities concealed substantial minorities, while economic and geographic considerations frequently pointed in directions different from religious demography. Rivers, irrigation headworks, railways and markets crossed the proposed boundaries. Sikhs were particularly vulnerable in Punjab because their population, landholdings and sacred places were distributed across areas claimed by both successor states. The commissions were expected to resolve these questions while political authority was itself being divided. Their members were nominated from opposing political sides and were unable to agree on many decisive matters. The ultimate responsibility therefore rested with Radcliffe, who was required to draw boundaries under extraordinary pressure and with limited opportunity for local investigation. More troubling was the timing of publication. The boundary awards were made public on August 17, 1947, after independence ceremonies had already taken place. Large populations in Punjab and Bengal consequently entered independence without knowing with certainty on which side of the new international frontier they would fall. The delay may have been intended to prevent the boundary controversy from overshadowing the independence celebrations or provoking immediate disorder. Its effect was to deepen uncertainty at the precise moment when administrative clarity was most urgently required. Officials responsible for security, local government and transportation had little time to prepare for the territorial consequences. Ordinary people were left to respond to rumour, fear and rapidly changing political realities. No law expressly ordered a complete exchange of populations between India

The geopolitical partition of the Indian subcontinent in the mid-twentieth century and the subsequent emergence of two sovereign nation-states remain among the most complex and defining chapters in modern global history. Within constitutional studies, postcolonial scholarship, and international affairs, this monumental shift has often been viewed through overly reductive lenses—frequently chalked up to imperial haste, nationalist fervor, or entrenched religious polarization. Yet, evaluated through a critical, detached twenty-first-century historical paradigm, a far more nuanced reality emerges: the creation of Pakistan was neither the product of a singular conspiracy nor a sudden historical accident. Rather, it represented a profound tripartite structural crisis triggered by Britain’s post-war imperial retreat, the Indian National Congress’s persistent anxiety over central authority, and the All-India Muslim League’s long-standing constitutional struggle to secure the political rights, economic safeguards, and existence of the subcontinent’s Muslim minority. To comprehend the foundational tier of this historical watershed, one must first analyze the global political economy and British colonial strategy of the 1940s. The devastation of the Second World War eroded the financial, administrative, and military underpinnings of the British Empire. British India—once celebrated as the crown jewel of the realm—had transmuted into an unsustainable administrative burden for Clement Attlee’s post-war Labour government in London. Official imperial correspondence compiled in The Transfer of Power 1942–47 exposes an unmistakable truth: London’s primary objective was no longer to establish an equitable political settlement in South Asia, but rather to execute a swift, low-cost exit that mitigated further economic and military liability. This imperial burnout precipitated Lord Mountbatten’s rushed exit strategy, which abruptly advanced the timeline for the transfer of power from June 1948 to August 1947. The human and spatial catastrophe that followed was exacerbated by the Boundary Commission led by Sir Cyril Radcliffe—a man with no prior familiarity with the subcontinent’s intricate demographic and cultural fabric, tasked with carving borders across maps in a matter of weeks. The chaotic fallout of the Radcliffe Award, the controversial inclusion of Muslim-majority tehsils like Gurdaspur into India, the bloody bifurcation of Punjab and Bengal, and the largest forced migration in human history were ultimately the catastrophic human costs paid by millions of South Asians for a retreating empire’s hasty flight. The second dimension of this tripartite framework involves the political, ideological, and constitutional stance of the Indian National Congress—a position frequently mischaracterized in one-sided narratives as sheer personal hubris or partisan bias. A rigorous, objective historical analysis of the Congress leadership, particularly figures like Jawaharlal Nehru and Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, reveals that their overriding strategic fear was the “Balkanization” of the subcontinent into scores of autonomous, warring princely states. The Congress maintained that governing a vast, culturally diverse land mass under a weak central power alongside sprawling princely domains was fundamentally unviable. They advocated for a highly centralized state capable of driving industrialization, economic cohesion, and geopolitical stability. Consequently, Congress consistently resisted flexible federal structures that granted extensive provincial autonomy, fearing that a weak central government would inevitably lead to the fragmentation of India’s geographical and political integrity. However, the third and arguably most crucial ideological and legal dimension was the constitutional resistance led by the All-India Muslim League under Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah—a struggle born out of the inherent limitations of majoritarian, “Westminster-style” numerical democracy. In culturally homogenous Western societies, the principle of “one person, one vote” forms the bedrock of democratic governance. Yet in the deeply stratified, multi-religious reality of the subcontinent, strict numerical majoritarianism effectively condemned a twenty-five percent Muslim minority to permanent political subordination under a seventy-five percent Hindu majority. For the Muslim population, this contest was never merely about securing a share of administrative power; it was a fundamental fight for legislative self-determination, economic survival, and cultural preservation. A close reading of the subcontinent’s constitutional trajectory demonstrates that the demand for Pakistan did not originate as a call for immediate territorial separation. From the Simla Deputation of 1906 and the constitutional reforms of 1909 to the Lucknow Pact of 1916, Jinnah’s Fourteen Points of 1929, and the Government of India Act of 1935, the primary objective of Muslim leadership was to secure provincial autonomy, separate electorates, and robust constitutional safeguards within a unified Indian federation. As the eminent Cambridge historian Ayesha Jalal highlighted in The Sole Spokesman, the demand for Pakistan functioned for a long time as a sophisticated strategic bargaining chip aimed at securing equal constitutional weight at the center, ensuring minority rights could not be overridden by sheer majoritarian dominance. The pivotal turning point occurred following the 1937 provincial elections. When the Indian National Congress formed unilateral governments across most of British India while sidelining minority representation, its twenty-month tenure transformed the Muslim League’s theoretical anxieties into stark political reality. The final, most promising opportunity for a united, decentralized India was the Cabinet Mission Plan of 1946. It proposed grouping British Indian provinces into three autonomous tiers, restricting the federal center strictly to defense, foreign affairs, and communications. Demonstrating extraordinary political foresight and statesmanship, Jinnah accepted the Cabinet Mission Plan despite heavy internal dissent, striving to preserve the geographic unity of the subcontinent while securing constitutional autonomy for Muslims. This fragile compromise collapsed in July 1946 during a press conference in Bombay, where Jawaharlal Nehru declared that Congress would enter the Constituent Assembly “unfettered by agreements” and free to modify the Cabinet Mission Plan. In his seminal work Partition of India: Legend and Reality, renowned Indian jurist and constitutional historian H. M. Seervai meticulously documented how Congress’s rigid insistence on hyper-centralization and rejection of a loose federation torpedoed the Cabinet Mission Plan. At that crucial juncture, the demand for a separate, sovereign state ceased to be an idealistic campaign; it became the sole viable, logical pathway to guarantee political equality, dignity, and constitutional security for millions of Muslims. Underpinning this prolonged political contest was an essential socio-economic reality often overlooked in conventional historiography. In British India, commercial networks, civil administration, and industrial capital were predominantly concentrated within the Hindu middle class, leaving the Muslim agrarian class, tenant

By Asma Rahmat, Final Year Law Student, SLC, Superior University and Muhammad Ameer Hamza, Final Year Law Student, SLC, Superior University   The legal profession has long been regarded as one of the most respected and tradition-bound institutions in society, founded on human intellect, ethical judgment, and the pursuit of justice. Yet, like every other profession, it is now experiencing the profound impact of Artificial Intelligence (AI). Across the globe, AI is transforming industries by automating routine tasks, enhancing productivity, and improving decision-making. The legal sector is no exception. While countries with advanced legal systems have already begun integrating AI into legal practice and judicial administration, Pakistan is only beginning to explore its potential. The challenge before us is not whether AI will become part of the legal profession, but whether we are prepared to embrace this technological revolution while preserving the fundamental values of justice, fairness, and the rule of law. Artificial Intelligence has the ability to process vast amounts of information within seconds, making it an invaluable tool for legal professionals. Today, AI-powered software can conduct legal research, review contracts, summarize lengthy case files, identify relevant judicial precedents, and even assist in drafting legal documents. These are tasks that traditionally consumed hours or even days of a lawyer’s time. By automating repetitive and time-consuming work, AI enables lawyers to focus on the more complex aspects of their profession, including legal strategy, courtroom advocacy, negotiation, and client counseling. Rather than replacing legal professionals, AI has the potential to become a reliable assistant that enhances both efficiency and accuracy. For Pakistan, where the judicial system continues to struggle with delays and an ever-growing backlog of cases, the responsible use of AI could bring much-needed reform. Thousands of litigants wait years for the resolution of their disputes, often because courts are overburdened and administrative processes remain largely manual. AI can assist in organizing digital records, managing court schedules, classifying legal documents, and simplifying legal research for judges and lawyers alike. These improvements could significantly reduce delays, improve case management, and make the justice system more efficient without compromising judicial independence. Importantly, AI should support judicial decision-making rather than replace it, as the final responsibility for interpreting the law must always remain with judges. Beyond improving efficiency, AI also offers an opportunity to strengthen access to justice. A significant portion of Pakistan’s population cannot afford legal representation or lacks access to basic legal information. AI-powered legal assistance platforms, particularly those available in Urdu and regional languages, could provide citizens with preliminary guidance on their legal rights, court procedures, and available remedies. Such tools would not replace qualified lawyers but could empower individuals by helping them understand the legal system before seeking professional assistance. In a country where legal awareness remains limited, technology can become a powerful means of promoting legal literacy and strengthening public confidence in the justice system. The emergence of AI is equally significant for legal education. Law students now have access to intelligent research tools that can summarize judgments, explain complex legal principles, compare international legal systems, and assist in legal writing. These technologies can make legal education more interactive and research-oriented. However, they also present a challenge. Students must avoid becoming overly dependent on AI-generated content, as legal education is ultimately designed to develop analytical reasoning, critical thinking, and independent judgment. Future lawyers must learn not only how to use AI responsibly but also how to question its outputs, verify legal authorities, and apply legal principles thoughtfully. Despite its many advantages, Artificial Intelligence raises several legal and ethical concerns that cannot be ignored. AI systems are not infallible. They may generate inaccurate information, misinterpret legal authorities, or reflect biases contained within the data on which they were trained. A lawyer who relies solely on AI without verifying its results risks providing incorrect legal advice or presenting flawed arguments before the court. Furthermore, the use of AI raises important concerns regarding client confidentiality and data protection. Lawyers have a professional and ethical obligation to protect sensitive client information, and any use of AI must ensure that confidential data is handled securely. These concerns highlight the importance of developing ethical guidelines governing AI’s use within the legal profession. Pakistan currently lacks a comprehensive legal framework specifically regulating Artificial Intelligence. While existing laws address cybercrime and certain aspects of electronic transactions, they do not adequately address issues such as AI accountability, transparency, liability, algorithmic bias, or the protection of personal data in AI-assisted legal services. As AI becomes more prevalent, policymakers must establish a clear regulatory framework that encourages technological innovation while safeguarding constitutional rights, including privacy, equality before the law, and the right to due process. Such regulation will be essential to ensuring that AI serves society without undermining public trust in legal institutions. Perhaps the greatest misconception surrounding AI is the belief that it will eventually replace lawyers. In reality, the legal profession depends upon qualities that no machine can fully replicate. Lawyers do not merely apply legal rules; they exercise judgment, interpret complex factual situations, negotiate settlements, understand human emotions, and advocate persuasively before courts. Similarly, judges must balance competing rights, interpret legislation in light of constitutional principles, and deliver reasoned decisions based on justice and equity. These responsibilities require wisdom, experience, empathy, and moral reasoning—qualities that remain uniquely human. AI can provide information and support, but it cannot replace the conscience, ethical responsibility, and professional judgment that define the legal profession. The future of the legal profession in Pakistan therefore lies in collaboration rather than competition between humans and technology. Law schools should introduce courses on Artificial Intelligence, legal technology, and digital ethics to prepare future lawyers for an increasingly technology-driven profession. Bar councils and regulatory authorities should establish professional standards governing the ethical use of AI in legal practice, while the judiciary should continue investing in digital infrastructure to improve the administration of justice. At the same time, legal professionals must embrace lifelong learning so they can adapt to technological advancements without compromising the integrity

The word “terrorism” was not used for the same purposes in the 1970s for what it is used today. Back in those days the word terrorism was often related to insurgencies that were driven by concrete grievances rather than being a form of immoral intentions. The main entertainer driving the word “terrorism” to a whole new evil definition was none other than Benjamin Netanyahu- a man born in Isreal and raised in the United States of America, son of a Hebrew teacher.   This was the beginning of the international propaganda that would take place for decades to come and permanently shift the image of millions of muslims worldwide- a stamp of “terrorists” being posted on them. Benjamin Netanyahu was well aware of how the rising media worked, going on numerous podcasts, interviews and convincing people watching him from all continents on how the Palestinians deserved no state. He was the bridge between Zionists in Israel and English speaking jews in America for he was raised as an English speaker and knew how to convince otherwise. His biggest breakout was his brother Johnathan being the only one killed in war, and allowing him to use his blood and name to open non profits and involve himself in politics.    If you have been chronically online for the past few years you must have come across statements like “self defense against Hamas”, and may have wondered what on earth did Hamas do that resulted in the death of millions of children and women alike? For starters,Hamas is a Palestinian Sunni Islamist political and militant organization that has governed the Gaza Strip. However, it has grown into something much deeper.    A video surfaced of Benjamin Netanyahu having a conversation and indicating how keeping Hamas in power allows them to “justify” their attacks on Palestine, as far as admitting how crucial it is to have a body to blame and continue with his war crimes. “Benjamin Netanyahu is a war criminal” said Zohran Mamdani the mayor of New York in his recent instagram post. This much the whole world agrees on. The horrors committed in Palestine are often compared to the Nazi regime and even the war crimes of Genghis Khan.    However, recently his attacks on Lebanon have made him unpopular among his allies sitting in the white house as well as most of the European nations who already were past enduring him. Apart from the global allies, his seat at his own parliament is losing its grip as more and more corruption cases involving him are piling up. It is expected that he will end up in jail or exile. Can he use his motives with Hamas and create more blinding propaganda to rest his case- that much we do not know. What we do know is that both the right wings and left wings are tolerating the same old Hamas self defense story.   It feels really ironic how according to Netanyahu all the Hamas headquarters are hidden under schools and hospitals which makes it crucial to bomb them, not as much ironic how they pass on flyers indicating citizens in Palestine to leave their homes hence they survive the upcoming bombings. No matter how hard the narrative is pushed that it is a war, and no matter how much the defination of “genocide” is discussed, it is evident that this is a brutality being committed in the twenty first century where every narrative can be clearly seen and every horrific crime witnessed.   In every Palestinian and Lebanese house is sitting an Anne Frank whose story will never come out since everything is burned and any aid coming is met with closed borders and brutal IDF opposition. No matter how much funding they spend on anti palestinian propaganda or call the saving of children in gaza as being “anti semitic”- it is known that this is no “war”.