The convictions against the husband-wife duo stem from tweets about enforced disappearances and other human rights concerns posted by Imaan and reposted by Hadi.

For these X posts, both have been convicted under various sections of the cybercrime law. However, the order does not clarify whether the sentences are to be served consecutively, amounting to a total of 17 years, or concurrently, which would cap the jail term at 10 years — the maximum sentence imposed under any single section.

Ten years ago, in 2016, when the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act was passed under the Pakistan Muslim League – N (PML-N) government, it was widely criticized as a tool to suppress dissent. In the years since, vague call-up notices and First Information Reports (FIRs) against political workers, journalists, and dissidents have become routine. The accusations almost always involve posting “anti-state” content.

Originally enacted under the PML-N government, PECA was later turned against PML-N workers and leaders after their term ended in 2018. The Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) attempted to further strengthen the law through controversial amendments and ordinances during its tenure from 2018 to 2022, though these moves did not survive judicial scrutiny.

“While the common complaint about Pakistan’s criminal justice system is endless delays, Imaan and Hadi’s trial was unusually swift — though far from fair.”

A constant criticism of PECA is that the process itself serves as punishment: individuals are charged and then subjected to the grueling criminal trial process, which becomes punitive in its own right. Arrests, bail hearings, repeated court appearances, the stigma of being labeled “anti-state,” and the constant threat of a lingering case – often without trial – have been the typical pattern under PECA. This ordeal itself seemed to be the goal, rather than securing convictions. That changed with Imaan and Hadi’s case, which proceeded with unusual swiftness.

Among other provisions, they were sentenced under the latest amendment to PECA, called Section 26-A, which was introduced after a rushed and controversial process just last year by the current ruling coalition. The amendment was pushed through the Parliament without meaningful debate and was deployed almost immediately against journalists less than two months after its passage. Imaan and Hadi had defended some of these journalists as counsel. Ironically, theirs is the first conviction under PECA’s latest amendment. Their only “crime” was refusing to acquiesce. This refusal is precisely what they have been punished for.

While the common complaint about Pakistan’s criminal justice system is endless delays, Imaan and Hadi’s trial was unusually swift — though far from fair. The cybercrime case against them was registered last August, and the trial concluded within five months. This trial can only be described as a mistrial, since they were sentenced in absentia. While on their way to appear before the trial court (after receiving protection from the High Court), they were violently arrested in connection with another case. A fresh, previously unknown FIR – dating back to February – was suddenly invoked against the couple, of which neither they nor anyone else had prior knowledge. They were stopped in the middle of the road, violently arrested, and secretly produced before the Anti-Terrorism Court without informing their family or legal counsel.

They were arrested on Jan. 23, and sent to Adiala Jail. The High Court had given them until Jan. 24 to join the trial court proceedings and complete the cross examination of prosecution witnesses. Had they not been arrested, they would have done so. But since they were intercepted on their way to court, then put in jail, they were made to join court proceedings in the PECA trial via video link from prison. They were told to complete their cross-examination remotely rather than in person — of course without access to any case files or ability to confront witnesses with material. Just because someone is placed under arrest in one case does not mean they forgo the right to appear in court to defend themselves in another case registered against them. Both protested how they were being dealt with, boycotting the proceedings. Hours later, they were convicted.

Laws like PECA, which excessively criminalize speech, are merely instruments of control. Compounded by a regressive and overbroad statute is a criminal justice system that many human rights advocates call a “criminal injustice” system, wielded by the state to target dissidents like Imaan and Hadi.

As seen in their case, complaints often originate from within the investigating agency itself: the case was built by an officer of the National Cyber Crime Investigation Agency (NCCIA). In most such cases, a technical assistant from the agency serves as the complainant or informant, monitoring and flagging posts. What is particularly absurd about their case is that the “incriminating” posts reflect positions long and publicly held by a wide range of human rights activists – including many now in government when they were in opposition. These concern the rights of political prisoners wrongly incarcerated by the state, the practice of enforced disappearances, the plight of affected families, and broader state policy on militancy.

When Imaan and Hadi cross-examined NCCIA officers, it became evident how quickly the case unraveled on its merits. But that was precisely what was not allowed. Not once but twice, their right to cross-examination was denied. They had to approach the High Court and Supreme Court to have it restored.

When they did get that right, they were hit with fresh cases and ultimately jailed in one and sentenced in another. The judgment itself makes no mention of the cross-examination that occurred, as though it never happened.

Two human rights lawyers who have defended others against the state’s excesses and advocated for the wrongfully incarcerated now face the same treatment themselves. It is now up to others to advocate for their rights, because if this can happen to them, it can happen to anyone.

Farieha Aziz

The writer is a co-founder of Bolo Bhi, an advocacy forum for digital rights and host of the Digi Pod on Dawn News English

The post How Imaan-Hadi Conviction Marks the Death of Fair Trial in Pakistan appeared first on Dissent Today.

The amendments added a new provision, Section 26(A), to PECA. This addition is aimed at penalizing those responsible for spreading “fake news” online.

When PECA was first introduced in 2015 as a bill in the National Assembly, PPP, Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI), Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) and the Awami National Party (ANP), allied with civil society and the press to resist the law. But once it arrived in the Senate where the opposition enjoyed a majority, the PPP made claims of “enough debate,” “it’s the need of the hour” and “we’ve fixed it” — which they hadn’t.

PECA was used against the PML-N, PTI, and PPP when they fell out of favor with the military establishment. Yet, this has not deterred any political party from being a vessel of further oppression when in power by expanding the scope of the law.  

This time around, the PPP supported the amendments in the National Assembly.

When the amendments were tabled in the Senate for passage, journalists staged a walkout. PPP Senator Sherry Rehman visited them and assured them their amendments would be supported just as the law was being passed with the party’s blessing in the Senate, receiving the assent of President Asif Zardari (the PPP’s co-chairman) soon after.

Once the law was signed, a member of the PPP reached out to us for input to prepare amendments. There was no offer for such input prior to the enactment of the law, but once it was all finalized thanks to their parliamentarians, they felt the need to hold “discussions.”

When the PPP was in opposition and its members headed National Assembly and Senate standing committees, they called upon digital rights advocates and journalists to brief them on the misuse of PECA. Yet at no point in all these years did the party or its members move a bill to roll back the damage PECA has done. Instead, for short-term gain and favor, they decided to rubber-stamp these amendments. 

The PPP certainly takes the cake in the art of deception and playing both sides. But it is also incumbent upon civil society and journalists to wisen up and see through these charades.

During advocacy against PECA back in 2015, consistent reminders were served to then allies in civil society, reminding them that despite flowery speeches, come time to vote we knew which way they swung: Pakistan Protection Act and the 21st amendment were recent debacles. This time it was the 26th amendment and PECA 2.0.

The amendments are a nefariously designed systemic assault on fundamental freedoms by expanding the state’s stranglehold over speech and information. This has not been whipped out of thin air; rather, its Machiavellian design is evident in the very deliberate and considered way granular changes have been introduced, to reverse years of judicial checks applied to misuse of the law’s provisions. There is a method to this madness.

These amendments close the door on the ability to seek relief based on misuse of the law, because it’s the very abuse of process that was challenged before courts and led to judicial pronouncements that has been legalized, so to speak. 

Cases were quashed by courts for not fulfilling the basic requirements of the law. For instance, journalist Shahzeb Jillani’s case was discharged recognizing that institutions or third parties on their behalf could not be complainants but that a “natural person” who was directly aggrieved had to be.

So conveniently, the amendments alter the definition of person to include legal and corporate entities paving the way for “institutions” and a complainant is now anyone who “has substantial reasons to believe that the offence has been committed.”

“PECA was used against the PML-N, PTI, and PPP when they fell out of favor with the military establishment. Yet, this has not deterred any political party from being a vessel of further oppression when in power by expanding the scope of the law.”

Not as though this was not already happening in practice. The case against journalist Bilal Farooqi, which is still pending, was on the complaint of a factory worker in Karachi who happened to stumble upon his social media posts and reported them. 

The way the law works in practice is that a person is identified as the target first. What they said or did not say, and whether it fits the offence or not, is an afterthought and semantics.

Once a complaint is filed, whether by issuing summons or registering an FIR, typically raids are conducted, attempts are made to arrest the person and seize their devices. Once arrested, there is a push for physical remand. Even where there is no arrest, appearance at every hearing is required.

Whether the offence is made out or not and whether procedures were followed or not, are things raised at later stages, once the damage is already done. An example of this is Asad Ali Toor’s arrest in February 2024, when after his arrest and 20-day incarceration, the court ultimately pronounced that the offence was never made out. By this time, the process was successfully used as punishment.

On the regulatory side, to counter checks against overreach, the amendments do away with the PTA, create a new regulatory authority that functions directly under the federal government and ensure its directives are “binding” upon it.

This is because under the earlier regulatory scheme, the IHC held that the federal government’s directives were not binding upon the PTA: X was banned upon a federal government notification.

Unfortunately, the courts did not prioritize petitions against the ban on the social platform X and the JIT and summons by the Federal Investigation Agency (FIA) in a timely manner. This gatekeeping further enabled the government to successfully weasel its way out of what would have been an obvious defeat in court by changing the rules of the game through altering the law.

Much of the resistance against PECA by journalist bodies today is stemming from being shunned after assurances by the government they would be taken into confidence. Too much is sacrificed at the altar of getting a seat at the table and eagerness to be co-opted.

There is nothing to “discuss.” No tweaks will prevent the persecution that this law enables. Nothing short of complete repeal should be accepted. These amendments are not just about press freedom; they have to do with the rights of every citizen of Pakistan.

Farieha Aziz

The writer is a co-founder of Bolo Bhi, an advocacy forum for digital rights and host of the Digi Pod on Dawn News English

The post How The PPP Played Both Sides While Passing The Draconian PECA Amendments appeared first on Dissent Today.