Mubashar Nadeem
In recent months, Pakistan’s judiciary has come under intense scrutiny as public perception grows that court verdicts are increasingly serving political objectives rather than impartial justice. Once exclusively reserved for extremists and violent offenders, the Anti-Terrorism Courts (ATCs) are now being used to sentence political leaders and dissenters. Coordinated rulings across Lahore, Islamabad, and Sargodha targeting members of a specific political party have intensified the belief that the state is using judicial tools to suppress opposition under the guise of national security.
These verdicts are largely rooted in the events of May 9, which the state labeled a “red line.” Although the violent aspects of that day were widely condemned, fundamental questions remain unanswered: Was the state’s reaction in line with constitutional boundaries? Has peaceful political protest been redefined as rebellion? And perhaps most troubling, are courts now validating government narratives instead of interpreting the law independently?
The core concern is the application of anti-terrorism laws to political activists and even social media users. Legislation originally intended to counter genuine threats to national security is now being used to criminalize protest, criticism, and dissent. When political slogans, peaceful gatherings, and online opinions are prosecuted as acts of terror, it leads to the erosion of democratic freedoms. The manipulation of these laws not only violates the principles of justice but also undermines the very idea of representative democracy.
Pakistan’s judicial history provides precedent for such practices. Courts have, in the past, lent legitimacy to authoritarian actions—such as Ayub Khan’s military regime, General Zia-ul-Haq’s judicial execution of Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, and General Pervez Musharraf’s politically motivated exile of Nawaz Sharif. These historic episodes illustrate how the judiciary has often aligned with prevailing powers to the detriment of democratic processes. Today, the same pattern appears to be repeating, only with new faces and modern tools.
When judicial decisions appear to favor one political group over others, they damage public trust in the institution itself. The judiciary is supposed to be the ultimate protector of constitutional rights, but if it is seen as complicit in targeting opposition, it loses moral and legal credibility. The danger is not just immediate; it sets a precedent. If courts are weaponized against one political party today, they can be used against another tomorrow. This cycle threatens to redefine political disagreement as criminal behavior.
Dragging politics into courtrooms distorts the balance of state power. Courts are not just venues for legal recourse; they are symbolic pillars of public confidence. Once suspicion arises that they are acting under political influence, the ethical power of the judiciary collapses. This leads to disillusionment among citizens and delegitimizes the broader democratic order.
The current situation raises a deeper constitutional concern. If state institutions—particularly the judiciary—begin to follow executive directives rather than the rule of law, Pakistan’s political system risks becoming arbitrary and authoritarian in function, even if democratic in form. The judiciary must uphold its constitutional mandate to deliver unbiased justice, or else it risks becoming an extension of political will rather than a guardian of rights.
The misuse of anti-terror laws against opposition figures and critics sends a chilling message across society. It signals that voicing disagreement with the state might not just be discouraged—it might be punished as a crime. This climate of fear narrows the space for democratic engagement and civil discourse. Rather than strengthening the state, it weakens its legitimacy and alienates its citizens.
Justice must remain impartial, blind to political affiliations, and rooted in constitutional principles. When it begins to mirror the biases of those in power, it no longer serves the public—it serves authority. Pakistan must resist the temptation to use courts as battlegrounds for political vengeance and instead recommit to the foundational principle that the law is meant to protect rights, not crush dissent.
Judicial independence is not a luxury—it is a necessity for any functioning democracy. If the courts are perceived to be endorsing political agendas or penalizing specific groups, the entire democratic structure stands on shaky ground. In the long run, justice driven by vengeance weakens not just the opposition but the state itself, risking a collapse in public trust and a further deterioration in democratic values.
