ajk crisis

The AJK Crisis 

Azad Jammu and Kashmir has recorded at least 40 deaths since early June in clashes tied to the Joint Awami Action Committee’s campaign against the region’s twelve refugee assembly seats, a toll that predates the events of July 27-28, when JAAC and AJK police gave conflicting counts of 14 to 21 more killed in Rawalakot. The combined total since June likely sits in the high 40s to high 50s, though no independent body has confirmed a single figure; every clash in this sequence has produced a JAAC count and a police count that don’t match, and neither has been verified from outside.

The July violence fell during the first phase of a legislative election that AJK’s election commission split into three stages because of the unrest, a break from the territory’s usual practice of voting in a single day. Mirpur division cast ballots on July 27. Rawalakot, in Poonch division, was deliberately held back for the third phase because it has been the epicenter of the agitation. The clashes there on July 27-28 came as JAAC’s long march tried to push through the city toward Muzaffarabad, not on a day its own constituents were voting. That the state felt it necessary to stagger an election by geography to manage a protest movement is itself a measure of how far the crisis had already gone.

Law enforcement personnel have been repeatedly targeted through the unrest. Police say an armed JAAC contingent opened fire on officers near Combined Military Hospital Rawalakot in a planned attack, which the region’s police chief called outright terrorism. JAAC disputes this, as it has disputed nearly every account of nearly every clash, saying its own people came under fire after power was cut to the area. Neither version has been independently verified, and the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan has called for an impartial probe into the Rawalakot deaths for that reason. What is not contested is that a movement now banned under anti-terrorism law has been in near-continuous confrontation with police for eight weeks, and that officers have died in it.

The dispute traces back to a structural question the state has already answered through the proper channel. Six of the twelve seats go to refugees from the Jammu division, numbering around 434,000; six more go to refugees from the Kashmir Valley, numbering around 30,000. JAAC calls this disproportionate and argues the seats let people who do not live in AJK shape its politics from outside. The AJK Supreme Court ruled on June 7 that the seats are constitutionally protected and can only be altered through a formal amendment, not by administrative order or by protest. The government’s proscription of JAAC under anti-terrorism law came two days earlier, on June 5, ahead of a planned June 9 protest; the worst of the killing followed the ban rather than preceding it. Both sides of that sequence can be argued. What can’t be argued is that the state waited for a body count before invoking the law , it acted first, and the deaths followed.

On the demands themselves, the government reports 24 of JAAC’s 44 total demands fully implemented and 16 more partially complete or in process, with 4 at an impasse. That record is substantial, larger than most governments manage against a protest charter. But it does not settle the argument on its own, because none of the 24 completed demands is the refugee-seat question. That one sits among the 16 still unresolved, and it is the demand driving the current violence. A compliance rate built mostly from other line items ; subsidies, cabinet size, judicial commissions, demonstrates the state’s good faith in general. It does not demonstrate its handling of the one issue JAAC is dying and killing over, and that distinction should not be blurred.

Even so, the seat question has been settled by the only body with authority to settle it. Abolishing the seats to appease pressure tactics would be unconstitutional on its face, and it would tell any future movement in Pakistan that enough disruption can override a court and a negotiated settlement alike. A state that has followed its own constitutional process, implemented most of an agreed reform charter, and still faces an intensifying campaign of blockades and attacks on security personnel has grounds to hold its position; grounds that rest on the process it followed, not on an implementation statistic that doesn’t reach the actual grievance.

The state’s strongest move now is to negotiate from the position it has already earned, not concede from a position of weakness. Reweighting the seats toward Jammu’s larger population, pursued through the amendment process the Supreme Court has itself outlined, would resolve the proportionality complaint on the state’s own terms and timeline, not JAAC’s. Offered now, immediately after a disputed mass-casualty event, it would read as capitulation. Offered once the group’s remaining leadership either accepts the court’s authority or is dealt with through the law, it becomes a demonstration of a functioning constitutional order rather than a retreat from one. The state does not owe JAAC a seat at the table it has spent eight weeks helping to blow up. It owes AJK’s residents a government that can enforce the law, account honestly for its own role in how this got this bloody, and eventually fix what is fair within the constitution , in that order.

Similar Posts

  • New provinces or stronger local governments?

    The debate over Pakistan’s administrative structure has returned to the national stage after Interior Minister Syed Mohsin Raza Naqvi suggested that the country should seriously examine the question of creating new provinces or administrative units. Predictably, the discussion immediately descended into familiar political slogans. Some portrayed the proposal as a threat to federalism, others embraced it as the long-awaited solution to governance failures. Between these two extremes lies a far more important question: what does the Constitution of Pakistan actually permit, and what course best serves national unity at a time of unprecedented regional instability? The timing of the debate is significant. Pakistan today faces persistent security challenges in Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, constitutional sensitivities relating to Azad Jammu and Kashmir, continuing political polarisation, and a rapidly deteriorating strategic environment as conflict in the Middle East threatens to reshape regional geopolitics. In such circumstances, constitutional reform should not be driven by political expediency. It must be guided by constitutional principles, empirical evidence and the long-term interests of the federation. The Constitution of islamic Republic of Pakistan is neither silent nor rigid on the question of creating new provinces. Article 1 recognises Pakistan as a federation consisting of provinces and territories whose limits may be altered in accordance with the Constitution. However, Article 239(4) places an important constitutional safeguard on any proposal affecting provincial boundaries. No constitutional amendment that alters the limits of a province can become law unless, in addition to obtaining the prescribed parliamentary majority, it is approved by not less than two-thirds of the members of the provincial assembly concerned. This requirement reflects the federal compact. Provinces are not merely administrative divisions; they are constitutional partners in the federation. Consequently, no province can be divided, merged or otherwise altered through a simple parliamentary majority in Islamabad. Provincial consent is itself a constitutional requirement. This constitutional position explains why proposals for South Punjab, Bahawalpur, Hazara or other new provinces have repeatedly surfaced over the past two decades but have never matured into constitutional reality. Various drafts, often described collectively as proposals for a Twenty-Eighth Constitutional Amendment, have circulated in political and academic circles. They have contemplated the creation of additional provinces together with corresponding adjustments in Senate representation, National Finance Commission allocations, provincial institutions and administrative structures. Yet none has commanded the political consensus demanded by Article 239. Constitutional design has proved stronger than political rhetoric. The debate, however, should not begin with Article 239. It should begin with Article 140A. Inserted through the Constitution (Eighteenth Amendment) Act of 2010, Article 140A obliges every province to establish a local government system and devolve political, administrative and financial responsibility and authority to elected representatives. This is not merely a recommendation. It is a constitutional command. Unfortunately, after even lapse of 16 years, this remains a constitutional provision that has been implemented (sic) with greater reluctance. Successive provincial governments, irrespective of political affiliation, have preferred centralised provincial bureaucracies over constitutionally empowered local governments. Elections have been delayed, powers diluted, finances retained by provincial capitals and administrative authority reclaimed through executive control. The result is that Pakistan continues to speak the language of devolution while practising administrative centralisation. Before demanding new provinces, one must ask a more fundamental question: has Pakistan sincerely implemented the Constitution it already possesses? The empirical evidence nevertheless deserves serious attention. Pakistan has experienced extraordinary demographic transformation since independence. The country’s population has increased from approximately 34 million in the early years of independence to over 255 million today, yet the number of provinces has remained unchanged. The presentation recently unveiled on constitutional and administrative reforms demonstrates this remarkable contrast and argues that governance structures have failed to evolve alongside population growth. It further notes that each of Pakistan’s four provinces administers populations exceeding those of many sovereign countries and that, among major federations, Pakistan places an unusually large administrative burden upon each provincial government. Whether one accepts every conclusion of that presentation/study or not, the underlying constitutional question cannot be ignored. Effective governance depends not merely upon constitutional powers but upon administrative reach. A provincial capital hundreds of kilometres from remote districts inevitably encounters greater challenges in delivering education, healthcare, policing and justice than a more decentralised system. The presentation also links many development indicators with administrative distance from provincial capitals, suggesting that constitutional debate should be informed by measurable governance outcomes rather than political sentiment alone. However,  administrative efficiency is only one dimension of federalism. The second is national integration. Pakistan’s history demonstrates that provincial identities become dangerous only when constitutional grievances remain unresolved. Conversely, attempts to suppress legitimate constitutional debate merely strengthen centrifugal tendencies. The Constitution therefore wisely provides a peaceful and democratic mechanism through which territorial adjustments may be considered while ensuring that no province loses its constitutional status without its own consent. This balanced approach deserves preservation. Current security realities also counsel prudence. Parts of Balochistan continue to face organised violence supported by hostile external actors. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa confronts renewed terrorist activity along its western frontier. Azad Jammu and Kashmir occupies a unique constitutional and strategic position within Pakistan’s national policy on Jammu and Kashmir. Simultaneously, the widening conflict across the Middle East has introduced new uncertainties affecting regional security, energy supplies and geopolitical alignments. These circumstances require a stronger federation rather than a weaker one. That objective, however, should not be confused with excessive centralisation. Strong federations are built upon responsive institutions, constitutional legitimacy and public confidence. Citizens judge the State not by constitutional theory but by whether schools function, hospitals remain open, justice is delivered promptly and basic civic services reach every district. Equally important is the responsibility of political leadership. Statements by political actors—including repeated interventions by Maulana Fazlur Rehman on constitutional and provincial questions—must be evaluated through the prism of constitutionalism rather than political confrontation. Democratic disagreement is legitimate, but constitutional discourse should unite rather than inflame an already polarised polity. The Constitution provides lawful mechanisms for reform. Political mobilisation should reinforce those mechanisms, not substitute for them.

  • Pakistan deserves better, Call for responsible gov…

    By Mehak Ali Pakistan is a country united by diverse cultures, languages, and provinces. Sindh, Punjab, Balochistan, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Gilgit-Baltistan, and Azad Jammu and Kashmir together form a nation blessed with breathtaking mountains, mighty rivers, vast deserts, fertile plains, and a strategically significant location. These natural blessings make Pakistan one of the most important countries in South Asia. ‎Yet, despite these advantages, millions of citizens continue to struggle with basic issues. Every day, news headlines report murders, sexual violence, malnutrition, unemployment, floods, illiteracy, inflation, gas shortages, electricity outages, and rising fuel prices. These are not isolated incidents; they are challenges that affect the daily lives of ordinary Pakistanis. ‎Citizens pay taxes with the expectation that the government will provide quality education, healthcare, infrastructure, security, and economic opportunities. When these expectations remain unfulfilled, frustration naturally grows. Good governance is not measured by speeches or publicity but by improvements in the lives of the people. ‎The condition of Sindh, particularly in many rural areas, reflects these concerns. Damaged roads, overflowing garbage, poor sanitation, and inadequate public services make everyday life difficult. Similar concerns are voiced by people in Balochistan, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, and other regions, where many continue to demand better facilities, development, and equal opportunities. ‎Farmers work tirelessly under the scorching sun to feed the nation. Employees spend long hours in offices to support their families. Students invest years in education, yet many remain unemployed even highly qualified graduates and researchers struggle to find suitable jobs. Meanwhile, poverty, heat-related illnesses, and malnutrition continue to claim innocent lives. ‎In a democratic society, peaceful protest is a constitutional right. When citizens raise their voices for justice, development, or equal treatment, they deserve to be heard with dialogue rather than confrontation. The unrest in Azad Jammu and Kashmir reminds us that citizens’ grievances whether related to economic hardships, political representation, or governance must be addressed through dialogue, accountability, and peaceful solutions rather than allowing frustration to turn into violence. Listening to the concerns of the people strengthens democracy and builds trust between the government and its citizens. ‎Despite these challenges, Pakistan remains our home, and we are proud to be Pakistanis. Criticizing shortcomings does not mean we love our country any less. On the contrary, it reflects our hope for a better future. We dream of a Pakistan where every citizen enjoys equal rights, where public resources are used responsibly, where justice prevails, and where no one is left behind because of their province, ethnicity, or economic status. ‎Pakistan has immense potential. What it needs is sincere leadership, transparent governance, and policies that place the welfare of the people above all else. Only then will every citizen be able to say with confidence and pride: Yes, we are Pakistanis, and we are truly united.

  • President Jiang Zemin and Modern China Formatting …

    June 24, 1989, Comrade Jiang Zemin assumed the charge of Secretary General of the CPC just after the Tiananmen Square incident. This was orchestrated by ideological rivals, who instigated people with foreign support under the guise of corruption, inflation, political participation, and human resource development for the new economy. No doubt there were challenges, but the government was doing everything it could to control them and bring positive change to people’s lives. It required patience and time. However, the ideological rivals and foreign forces decided to exploit that window of opportunity and bring down the CPC.   Therefore, right after assuming the charge, Secretary General Jiang Zemin had to deal with Western countries’ false propaganda campaign against China. The West was propagating that China used brutal force and undermined human rights. However, it did not shake his determination to restore stability, the cornerstone of CPC policy. CPC is convinced that without stability, the country cannot move forward. After tackling it, he focused on economic reforms, especially after becoming President and paramount leader in 1993. From here, a new phase of reforms started. The CPC, with President Jiang at its core, began to juggle policies and options to sustain growth, ensure stable government revenue, and address people’s problems. Thus, President Jiang Zemin, with the guidance of elders, especially Deng Xiaoping, accelerated the reforms and the introduction of market-oriented policies. He took many innovative decisions to accelerate economic growth, enhance outreach, and strengthen international relations and security. First, he kick-started the first phase of privatization to reduce the burden on the State and spur private sector growth. The number of State-owned enterprises fell from 262,000 to 159,000. Almost 40 million people lost their jobs, but China continued the reform.  However, China’s privatization was led by a wise and smart policy. First, China identified the requirements for the private sector and SOEs to ensure a balance between tax and non-tax revenue. Second, China did not privatize critical industrial sectors or enterprises. Third, China established mechanisms to mitigate the impact on people and keep them engaged, thereby ensuring stability.   Second, President Jiang Zemin led China’s accession to the World Trade Organization (WTO). It was another landmark decision, which revolutionized China’s economic growth and development. After joining the WTO, China grew and developed by leaps and bounds. It also ushered in a new era of global economic linkages, which helped China develop rapidly and curb poverty. China is now the world’s largest trading partner, with over US$6 trillion in 2025, and the second-largest economy. Third, he prohibited the army from taking part in economic ventures.  Third, he introduced a strategy to revitalize the economy through science and education. He launched two landmark initiatives, Project 211 and Project 985, under this strategy. Project 211 was designed to build institutions for the 21st century. It was decided that 100 universities would be prepared for the 21st century.  For that purpose, 115 universities were identified. Project 985 was designed to create world-class universities, and 39 universities were under the project.   On the diplomatic front, he also achieved many successes. First, Hong Kong and Macau were reunited with the mainland. Second, he signed a friendship treaty with Russia and launched the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) in collaboration with Russia. Now, the SCO is one of the world’s major organizations in a multipolar world. Fourth, he also completed China’s accession to the World Trade Organization (WTO).  However, President Jiang Zemin’s most significant work was his theory of the Three Represents: the development trend of China’s advanced productive forces, the orientation of China’s advanced culture, and the fundamental interests of the overwhelming majority of the Chinese people. The Three Represents theory is a major work of the Party, following Deng Xiaoping’s theory, in building the modern Party. It reflects the CPC’s philosophy and Chinese political culture, which emphasize evolution and reform in line with ground realities. However, the interests of the people must be the paramount guiding principle. President Jiang Zemin started work just after assuming the position of Secretary General, following Tiananmen Square.  The analysis of Three Represents highlights three important things. First, it urges the Party to better serve the people and embrace new classes. Thus, Three Represents opened the Party’s doors to new classes including entrepreneurs, businessmen, and professionals. It was necessary to diversify and give development new impetus by making the Party more inclusive. However, it sparked debate among Party members and other circles. The conservative elements of the Party were not ready to accept the business community and entrepreneurs. However, there was wider support for the inclusion within and outside the Party.  Second, Three Represents encouraged the enhanced role of science, education, and technology in leading the new phase of development. Although the revitalization of the economy through science and education was already underway, there was a need to accelerate the process further.  Third, the Party envisioned that it must strive to modernize culture in accordance with socialist values and norms.  Simultaneously, President Jiang Zemin also encountered some serious problems. First of all, relations with the USA were a constant irritant. The USA continued to interfere in Taiwan and internal affairs. The situation was further complicated by the bombing of the Chinese embassy in Belgrade and the Hainan incident by USA forces. The Hainan incident was a complicated issue that threatened peace. Second, the third Taiwan Strait Crisis appeared during his tenure. On the domestic front, he had to face an intensive debate over the inclusion of business groups and entrepreneurs in the Party. Moreover, privatization, especially after accession to the WTO, generated debate in the country. However, he solved these issues with wisdom and smart policy.   In conclusion, the above discussion indicates that President Jiang Zemin assumed leadership at a critical rather than a difficult time. However, he steered the country with dedication, wisdom, and smart policies. The ultimate objective of his policies was to serve the people and build an inclusive Party in line with new realities. That’s why he is considered one of

  • Fundamental Rights (Article 10): A Constitutional …

    By Muhammad Imran, Staff Member, SAHSOL-LUMS and Asma Rahmat, Final Year Law Student, SLC Superior University and Wafa Sarfraz, Law Student, SAHSOL-LUMS   Introduction: Article 10 of the Constitution of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan enshrines the fundamental constitutional safeguards against arbitrary arrest and detention, thereby giving concrete procedural effect to the broader guarantee of personal liberty contained in Article 9. Rather than leaving these protections to ordinary legislation—such as Sections 60, 61, and 81 of the Code of Criminal Procedure (Cr.P.C.)—the Constitution elevates them to the status of entrenched fundamental rights. Consequently, these guarantees cannot be diluted or abrogated through ordinary legislative enactments, and any executive action or statutory provision inconsistent with Article 10 is liable to be declared void under Article 8 of the Constitution. Structurally, Article 10 establishes two distinct constitutional regimes. Clauses (1) and (2) prescribe procedural safeguards applicable to ordinary arrests and detention, whereas clauses (3) to (9) regulate the exceptional constitutional framework governing preventive detention. Therefore, the Honorable Mr. Justice Fazal Karim (Late) in his magic book for district judiciary practice, ‘Access to Justice in Pakistan’, described it as a Mini-Criminal Code, and has rightly described it so. Interplay with the Constitutional Scheme of Fundamental Rights: Article 10 does not operate in isolation; rather, it forms an integral part of Pakistan’s constitutional framework for the protection of liberty, dignity, and due process. Read together with Articles 9, 10A, and 14, it establishes a comprehensive constitutional guarantee against arbitrary deprivation of liberty. Article 9 guarantees that no person shall be deprived of life or liberty except in accordance with law, while Article 14 protects the inviolability of the dignity of man. Article 10 operationalizes these guarantees by regulating the manner in which the State may lawfully arrest and detain individuals. Consequently, arbitrary arrest, unlawful detention, and custodial abuse constitute violations not only of Article 10 but also of Articles 9 and 14. The relationship between Article 10 and Article 10A is equally significant. Introduced through the Eighteenth Constitutional Amendment, Article 10A constitutionalizes the rights to due process and a fair trial. Jurisprudentially, Article 10 governs the investigative stage by ensuring lawful arrest, prompt notification of the grounds of arrest, immediate access to legal counsel, and judicial supervision within twenty-four hours. Article 10A, by contrast, safeguards the adjudicatory process through guarantees of an impartial tribunal, equality of arms, open justice, and procedural fairness. Together, these provisions establish a continuous constitutional guarantee of due process extending from arrest until the conclusion of criminal proceedings. Constitutional Safeguards under Clauses (1) and (2): Clauses (1) and (2) prescribe the minimum constitutional standards governing every lawful arrest. An arrested person must be informed, as soon as may be, of the grounds of arrest in a manner sufficient to enable an effective challenge to the legality of detention. The Constitution further guarantees an unfettered right to consult and be defended by a legal practitioner of one’s own choice, thereby ensuring meaningful legal assistance from the earliest stage of criminal proceedings. Additionally, every arrested person must be produced before the nearest Magistrate within twenty-four hours of arrest, excluding the time reasonably required for the journey from the place of arrest to the court. Continued detention beyond this constitutional period is permissible only upon the authority of a Magistrate through a valid judicial remand order. Collectively, these guarantees subject executive power to immediate judicial scrutiny and minimize the risk of arbitrary or prolonged detention. Implied Constitutional Rights under Article 10: Apart from its express guarantees, Article 10 also incorporates several implied constitutional rights arising from constitutional principle, comparative jurisprudence, and judicial interpretation. The obligation to communicate the grounds of arrest necessarily presupposes that lawful and objectively justifiable grounds must exist before an arrest is effected. Accordingly, an arrest cannot lawfully be undertaken on mere suspicion or with reasons manufactured retrospectively. This reflects the common law doctrine of reasonable or probable cause and has been affirmed by the Supreme Court of Pakistan, particularly in Mst. Sughran Bibi v. The State, which held that mere nomination in an FIR does not, by itself, justify immediate arrest. Similarly, the constitutional right to “consult” legal counsel necessarily extends beyond representation during trial. It attaches immediately upon arrest, including during police custody, investigation, and interrogation, thereby ensuring legal assistance at the earliest and most vulnerable stage of the criminal process. Preventive Detention: The Constitutional Exception: Although Article 10 principally governs ordinary arrests, clauses (3) to (9) establish a distinct constitutional framework for preventive detention. Preventive detention differs fundamentally from ordinary criminal detention. It is preventive rather than punitive, aiming to avert threats to national security, public order, or defence rather than punish past conduct. Recognizing the extraordinary nature of such detention, the Constitution subjects it to stringent procedural safeguards. The detaining authority must ordinarily communicate the grounds of detention within fifteen days unless disclosure would be contrary to the public interest. Furthermore, detention extending beyond three months requires approval from an independent Review Board comprising serving or former Judges of the High Court or Supreme Court. The Supreme Court has consistently held that the executive’s “satisfaction” justifying preventive detention is not immune from judicial review. Rather, it must be supported by objective and relevant material establishing a reasonable apprehension of harm. Preventive detention therefore remains subject to constitutional principles of legality, proportionality, and procedural fairness. Constitutional Remedies and Judicial Enforcement: The principal constitutional mechanism for enforcing Article 10 is the jurisdiction of the High Courts under Article 199. The writ of habeas corpus provides an effective constitutional remedy where an individual is unlawfully arrested or detained. If a detainee is not informed of the grounds of arrest, denied access to legal counsel, or detained beyond twenty-four hours without judicial authorization, the High Court may require the production of the detainee and determine the legality of the detention. Upon finding a violation of Article 10, the Court may order immediate release and grant appropriate constitutional relief. Except where expressly suspended during a constitutionally proclaimed emergency under Part X

  • Pranking a nation isn’t wise

    There are many ways to confuse a nation. You can give contradictory statements, hold three press conferences saying three different things, or announce that everything is perfectly normal while the entire country is wondering why nothing looks normal. Or, if you are particularly creative, you can take a Supreme Court order directing a prisoner to one hospital and take him to another. Welcome to Pakistan, where even a hospital transfer can become a constitutional thriller. The Supreme Court ordered that Imran Khan, the incarcerated former prime minister, be shifted from Adiala Jail to Shifa International Hospital for medical examination and treatment. The order was specific about the medical arrangements, including a multidisciplinary medical board and the involvement of his personal physician and his sister, Dr Uzma. The Court also emphasised the State’s obligation to safeguard the life, health, dignity and security of a person in custody and directed compliance with its order in letter and spirit. One might reasonably assume that the next scene would be rather straightforward. The ambulance would arrive, the prisoner would leave the jail, the ambulance would reach Shifa, doctors would examine the patient, the court order would be fulfilled, and the nation would go home. But this is Pakistan. Here, apparently, even an ambulance needs constitutional interpretation. Instead of Shifa International, Imran Khan was taken to PIMS. The government says the change was made because of security considerations and insists that he was examined by specialists, including doctors associated with Shifa. After a brief medical examination, he was returned to Adiala Jail. And suddenly the nation was presented with a fascinating new concept in constitutional law: the destination may be different, but apparently the spirit is the same. Imagine ordering a prisoner to be taken to Lahore and the authorities taking him to Peshawar, then announcing, “Don’t worry. Both cities have hospitals.” This is not disobedience, apparently. This is administrative creativity. The Supreme Court says Shifa. The government says PIMS. The nation says, “Excuse me, did we miss a constitutional amendment?” The government’s explanation is security. Of course, security is a serious matter. Nobody sensible would argue otherwise. A former prime minister with millions of supporters cannot simply be moved around without adequate security arrangements. But there is a small constitutional inconvenience here: the Supreme Court itself had already directed the government to make adequate security arrangements for Khan’s stay at Shifa. So the obvious question is, if security was the problem, why was the solution not presented to the very court that had issued the order? Why not go back and say, “Your Lordships, we have a security problem. Kindly permit PIMS instead.” That would have been boring. And boring, apparently, is not Pakistan’s preferred method of governance. Instead, the country got a plot twist. The government challenged the Supreme Court’s direction, while its review petition reportedly faced procedural objections. Then Khan was taken to PIMS instead of the hospital specifically named in the Court’s order. It is almost as if the Constitution was handed a boarding pass for Shifa and somehow ended up at PIMS. Perhaps the poor Constitution missed its flight. Then came the most remarkable part. The government said Imran Khan was medically fit after the examination and returned him to jail. Wonderful. A man whose health concerns had prompted the Supreme Court to intervene was taken for a medical examination, declared fit and returned to prison within hours. What a remarkably efficient healthcare system Pakistan has suddenly discovered. You enter as a prisoner, you are examined by specialists, you are declared fit, and you leave. No waiting room, no follow-up appointment, no parking problem , just straight back to jail. If only the rest of Pakistan’s healthcare system worked at this speed. Of course, satire aside, the matter is not funny. That is precisely why it is funny. Because beneath the absurdity lies a very serious constitutional question. The Supreme Court did not merely say, “Take Imran Khan somewhere and let a doctor look at him.” It laid down specific arrangements concerning the hospital, the medical board, the involvement of his personal physician and his sister, and the treatment of a person in state custody. The Court recognised that imprisonment does not extinguish a prisoner’s entitlement to humane treatment and necessary medical care. So when a government changes the practical implementation of a specific judicial direction, the public is entitled to ask whether this is compliance or reinterpretation. And there is a very thin line between the two. A government that disagrees with a judicial order has legal remedies. It can appeal. It can seek review. It can request modification. It can explain security concerns. What it should not casually establish is a new constitutional principle, “Yes, Your Lordships, we received your order. We have made some adjustments.” Because once that principle becomes normal, it will not remain confined to Imran Khan. Today it is a former prime minister. Tomorrow it could be an opposition leader. The day after tomorrow, it could be an ordinary citizen. And then someone will discover that the court ordered one thing, but the administration considered another thing more convenient. That is where the real danger begins. The issue, therefore, is bigger than Imran Khan. It is bigger than PTI. It is even bigger than the government of the day. It concerns whether judicial orders are binding instructions or merely suggestions sent to the executive branch for consideration. Because if a court says “Shifa” and the executive says “PIMS,” the citizen naturally wonders, who actually decides? The judges? The administration? The security establishment? Or whoever has the microphone that afternoon? There is another uncomfortable question. Does Imran Khan’s life matter to the state? The official answer is obviously yes. The government says he is receiving medical care, has been examined repeatedly and is being treated according to the rules applicable to prisoners. It has rejected allegations of medical neglect and mistreatment, then why Imran khan stated many times to his sister Dr Uzma Khan

  • Where We Stand: Reflections on Governance and Resp…

    In the long chronicle of human affairs, few pursuits have more clearly revealed the character of a people than the search for good governance. Our predecessors, whether the wise administrators of earlier ages or those who laid the foundations of our own constitutional order, grasped this truth with a seriousness that still commands reflection. They understood that the art of governing is not a mere technique of power, but a moral undertaking. Authority, they held, is a trust held on behalf of the community, to be discharged with restraint, justice, and an eye to the welfare of generations yet unborn. Their systems, though shaped by the limitations of their times, were animated by principles of accountability, the supremacy of law over personal will, and the conviction that public office is a burden rather than a prize. Courts were expected to stand as impartial arbiters; civil servants were trained to place duty above favour; and rulers, at their best, recognised that their legitimacy rested upon the consent and confidence of the governed. We received from them a framework of institutions—representative assemblies, independent judiciaries, administrative services, and a body of laws intended to curb arbitrary power. These were not perfect creations, yet they embodied an aspiration toward order tempered by fairness. Public life retained, for considerable periods, a measure of dignity. Corruption existed, as it has in every age, but it was more often regarded as a shameful departure from the norm rather than an accepted condition of advancement. The methods of our predecessors rested upon a shared moral vocabulary; honour in public dealing, frugality in the use of common resources, and a sense that the strong bore a particular responsibility toward the weak. Where, then, do we stand today when measured against that inheritance? The forms of good governance remain visible—constitutions are still sworn to, elections are still held, statutes continue to be enacted—yet the substance has in many places grown thin. Trust between the people and the state appears to be fading. Justice is frequently perceived as uneven, accessible more readily to those of means or influence than to the ordinary person. Administrative machinery, designed to serve, is too often entangled in delay, patronage, and self-interest. Political discourse has become coarse and transactional, with loyalty to party or person frequently eclipsing loyalty to principle or the public good. The gap between proclaimed ideals and daily practice has widened, leaving many citizens disillusioned and inclined to withdraw from civic responsibility altogether. If failure must be acknowledged—and candour requires that it should—the causes are several and interwoven. Foremost among them is a progressive weakening of personal character in public life. Ambition has too often been severed from a corresponding sense of duty. The pursuit of power and material advantage has overshadowed the older ideal of service. Political culture has drifted toward clientelism, wherein positions and favours are distributed as rewards rather than earned through merit. Institutions that ought to act as checks upon excess have themselves become vulnerable to capture, their independence eroded by pressure, inducement, or the quiet fear of consequence. Education, which should have formed citizens capable of discerning right from expedient, has frequently neglected the cultivation of ethical judgement in favour of technical competence or mere qualification. Economic pressures and rapid social change have compounded these weaknesses, fostering a climate in which short-term gain appears more urgent than long-term integrity. Over all has settled a collective habit of blame; each segment of society is ready to indict the others while absolving itself. Have we, then, discharged our responsibilities as individuals, as institutions, and as a nation? The record is sobering. As individuals, many of us have grown content to lament the state of affairs while participating, in small ways or large, in the very practices we condemn—evading obligations, seeking special treatment, remaining silent when honesty would exact a cost. Institutions have too often placed institutional survival or the interests of their leaders above the purpose for which they were created. In prima facia, courts drag their feet, legislatures focus on partisan gain, and administrative bodies forget about the citizens they’re meant to serve. As a nation, we have allowed divisions of interest, region, and allegiance to weaken the sense of a shared destiny. Necessary reforms have been postponed; uncomfortable truths have been left unspoken; and the common good has been subordinated to immediate political calculation. Yet history is not an irreversible descent. Peoples have recovered from moral and administrative decline when they recovered first the will to examine themselves without illusion. Correction of direction remains possible, though it will demand more than rhetoric or the rearrangement of outward forms. It begins with the recovery of personal integrity in ordinary dealings, for no system can long remain honest if those who operate it and those who live under it are themselves careless of truth. It requires institutions to reclaim their independence and to remember that their authority derives from the public trust, not from the favour of transient power. It calls for a renewed national conversation about the ends of government—not merely the distribution of resources or the winning of elections, but the creation of conditions in which citizens may live with dignity, security, and hope. Education must once more address the formation of character as seriously as the acquisition of skill. Civic engagement must cease to be regarded as the province of a few and become again the ordinary duty of many. The task is arduous and will meet resistance from those who profit by the present disorder. Yet the alternative is a continuing erosion of confidence, a further coarsening of public life, and the gradual loss of that cohesion without which no society can endure. Our predecessors bequeathed us not a completed structure but a charge and an example. Whether we prove equal to that charge depends upon choices that are still ours to make. If we summon the courage to prefer principle to expediency, duty to advantage, and the long view to the immediate reward, the

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *