The report releasted last month documents “intimidation, harassment and persecution” of human rights defenders, along with restrictions on protests and the use of counter-terrorism and digital laws to criminalise dissent. It rates Pakistan’s civic space as “repressed,” the second-worst category, citing a pattern of escalating state controls on expression and assembly.

“Since coming to power, the Shehbaz Sharif government has escalated its repression of activists… silencing critical voices,” said Josef Benedict, an Asia researcher at CIVICUS, calling on authorities to “reverse course” and protect fundamental rights.

The report highlights arrests, legal cases and surveillance targeting prominent activists and lawyers, as well as a broader clampdown on ethnic Baloch and Pashtun movements demanding accountability for enforced disappearances. It also documents increasing use of laws such as the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act to pursue online critics and block digital content.

Journalists have faced mounting pressure, including arrests, investigations and alleged attacks, contributing to what CIVICUS described as a “chilling effect” on media freedom. Protest restrictions have also intensified, with authorities frequently imposing blanket bans and using force to disperse demonstrations, per the report.

The findings come against the backdrop of political tensions following Pakistan’s 2024 elections, which the report says were marked by restrictions on opposition activities and media coverage. Despite these concerns, the country was elected to the UN Human Rights Council for a three-year term earlier this year.

CIVICUS said the situation runs counter to Pakistan’s obligations under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which guarantees freedoms of expression, association and peaceful assembly.

News Desk

dissenttoday.net

The post Pakistan’s Civic Freedoms Deteriorate Amid Crackdown on Dissent: Report appeared first on Dissent Today.

When Mohsin Dawar narrowly escaped an elaborate assassination attempt in which his vehicle was sprayed with more than 60 bullets about a month before the 2024 general elections, he saw no option but to slow down his campaign. He was seeking re-election to a National Assembly seat from his hometown of North Waziristan — a restive tribal district of Pakistan’s Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa province that borders Afghanistan and is one of the areas in the country worst affected by Taliban militancy and the war on terror.

On the morning of Jan. 3, Dawar’s corner meetings planned in the village of Tappi, North Waziristan, had to be abruptly cancelled when his vehicle came under attack from around 15 assailants from the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP). He survived the attack because the vehicle was armoured, but the attackers — determined to get him — launched another attack as more militants joined in from across Waziristan.

As Dawar was whisked away to safety at a home in the village, his private security and the police guarding his convoy sought help from the Pakistan Army to fight the attackers. But they received no response or assistance. Despite this, they continued to engage the militants and were able to drive them away after 45 minutes of violent clashes involving live ammunition and heavy weapons. 

“It was a miracle I survived that attack,” Dawar told Dissent Today in a phone interview, saying that his supporters, people from his tribe, and the police were on their own against the militants, with no assistance from the military. After this near-death experience, he had to end his participation in campaign events due to security concerns, relying on his party colleagues and supporters to convey his campaign message.

Dawar, who heads the progressive National Democratic Movement (NDM) that he founded in 2021 along with a group of secular Pashtun politicians, has been vocal against the resurgence of Taliban terrorism in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa during his time in the National Assembly from 2018 to 2023. During an in-camera meeting of the parliament’s National Security Committee held in 2022 to discuss the rise in terrorism in the province, Dawar was reportedly the only member to challenge then-Inter Services Intelligence (ISI) chief Faiz Hameed about the military’s decision to negotiate with the Taliban.

Even before he began his 2024 election campaign, he heard threats and warnings that the Taliban wanted to target him. Following the attack in Waziristan, personnel from the security agencies warned him that this time the militants had sent a suicide bomber who was roaming around his chamber in the town of Miranshah, disguised as one of his many guests and waiting to hug him.

Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa has a bloody history of election violence, with candidates and representatives of secular parties being attacked by militants in the lead up to the polls. Like a number of other anti-Taliban candidates in the province, Dawar had to go to the polls amid this wave of fear, but he and his followers remained determined not to end the campaign.

The former lawmaker could not stay in one city for more than three days and would travel from Waziristan to Peshawar to Islamabad and back, just to thwart another potential assassination attempt. “Due to this, there was virtually no election campaign,” Dawar said, adding that his supporters remained on the ground, but it was hard for the party to counter the opponents’ narrative because of his absence from campaign activities.

These threats, however, were not the only hurdle in their way. Just weeks before the elections, the Election Commission of Pakistan (ECP) altered the electoral scheme in Waziristan, moving 56 polling stations from areas that Dawar believed were his strongholds to less accessible locations. The changes were made at the request of the Islamist Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam (JUI-F), one of Dawar’s main opponents, whose candidate would later be declared the winner in this constituency. 

Most of these polling stations were moved to properties owned by or in use by members or leaders of the JUI-F, which Dawar and his supporters feared could be used as leverage against them.

The JUI-F’s request to change these polling stations was initially rejected, but the election officials overseeing the process later accepted the demand abruptly. Dawar says his sources in the civil administration informed him that the relevant officials had to approve the application after being pressured to do so by military officials.

The NDM wrote applications to the district returning officer and the ECP, expressing concerns over this change, but received no response.

Despite this series of setbacks, the newly formed NDM had fielded 17 candidates for national and provincial assembly seats and was eager to navigate its first general election. Dawar said the party had conducted multiple training sessions for its polling agents to thwart rigging attempts. “We considered every scenario [of electoral rigging] and trained our polling agents accordingly.”

But Election Day on Feb. 8 arrived with yet another act of terror: a suicide attack targeting NDM’s three female polling agents in the same village where Dawar had earlier survived an assassination attempt. Although the women were not physically injured, the trauma left them unconscious, forcing them to abandon their duties. 

Dawar later heard reports that the Taliban had taken over some polling stations in the village. “We wrote to the ECP about this attack on our polling agents and the militants taking control of the polling stations, but we did not hear back,” he said. 

As unofficial election results began to emerge, reports surfaced that a Returning Officer (RO) — the main official responsible for consolidating results — was tampering with votes in the constituency and increasing the JUI-F’s count. Dawar went to the RO’s office located in the Miranshah cantonment area and confronted him with information he had received about the tampering. “The RO denied altering the results. But he later disappeared, and we could not find him all day,” Dawar says. The RO’s mysterious disappearance led to unusual delays in the counting process.

Dawar and other candidates stayed the night at the building, waiting to receive an update. On the night of Feb. 9, they were informed that the pending results from the Mir Ali district wouldn’t be received until the next day. Since the counting was delayed until then, candidates were asked to leave the office and return the following morning. At the time they left the RO’s office that night, Dawar was leading by more than 5,000 votes.

But they woke up next morning to a hurriedly issued notification from the ECP for the provincial assembly seat of PK-103, where a candidate who had been trailing by a significant number of votes since the voting day, was declared the winner.

“That’s when we realized they were completely distorting the results,” Dawar says.

Two days before the election, Dawar had issued a video message predicting that election officers may change the final results on Form 45, a crucial document used in Pakistan’s post-electoral process, which discloses the outcomes of the voting procedure at a particular polling place.

“That’s exactly what they later did to us and many other candidates across Pakistan,” he says.

When Dawar and his supporters arrived at the RO’s office in Cantonment area once again that morning, they were stopped at the gate, which was sealed by security forces. 

According to Pakistan’s election laws, candidates and their polling agents are entitled to be present at the location where votes are being counted and gathered. But no candidates were being allowed to enter the premises, in violation of the law.

After being denied entry, Dawar and his supporters began a protest outside the building, demanding access to the RO’s office. “Our concern was that our mandate was being stolen inside,” Dawar said.

As the protesters marched toward the RO’s office, chanting slogans, security forces stationed at the gate suddenly opened fire on them. Dawar was the first to be hit, receiving two bullets in his right leg. Three of his supporters died on the spot from the gunfire, while another succumbed to his injuries at a hospital. 15 other protestors were injured. 

Dawar was rushed to a nearby hospital in Waziristan. As he received treatment for his bullet wounds at the hospital, a candidate from the JUI-F was announced the winner from the constituency. 

Pakistan’s mainstream media conducted marathon transmissions covering the elections, but this incident of election violence targeting a former parliamentarian barely registered in the mainstream media. On the contrary, sections of the media reported it as an attack on the Pakistani military, airing misleading claims from government officials that Dawar’s supporters had attacked security forces and injured policemen.

Miranshah district administration officials had claimed at the time that Dawar’s supporters tried to force their way into the building and injured policemen in the process. However, according to two Waziristan-based reporters Dissent Today spoke to, the local police denied that their personnel were killed or injured in the incident, disputing the official version that held the protesters responsible.

Then-interim Prime Minister Anwaar Kakar repeated these accusations during a media briefing, and most media outlets reported the questionable official version, which cleared the security forces of responsibility for opening fire at the protest.

“I did not expect them to shoot,” Dawar said, adding that he wouldn’t have staged a protest and endangered his supporters’ lives if he had known the security forces would open fire on them.

Three of the men killed in the gunfire were under 30 years of age, while one was in his late 40s.

After initial treatment in Waziristan, Dawar was moved to a hospital in Peshawar for better medical care, where he remained under treatment for four days. During this time, no mainstream politician — including those who were once his allies in the Pakistan Democratic Movement — reached out to him to inquire about his health. Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif, who called him to ask for details about the incident, was the only exception.

A year after this incident, no FIR has been registered for the killing of the four protesters, as authorities rejected Dawar’s application for a case and registered a counter FIR against him and his supporters in response. Their complaint before the election tribunal regarding alleged rigging in the constituency has not been heard either and continues to face delays.

Dawar says he had expected to face hurdles during the election but had not anticipated that the establishment would go to such lengths to keep him away from Parliament. 

His sources among security agencies often tell him that the main reason he is unacceptable to the powers that be is his stance against the Taliban. “Many political forces in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa chose to accept the Taliban as a reality after they gained ground in the province,” Dawar says, but adds that his party will never accept the militant group’s presence in the region.

“We are not willing to compromise on any part of our narrative,” he says.

• Additional reporting by Rai Bhittani in North Waziristan.

Ailia Zehra

The writer is a journalist and the Founding Editor of Dissent Today. She covers politics, human rights, and religious extremism. She tweets at @AiliaZehra.

The post A Year After Elections, Ex-Waziristan Parliamentarian Unable to Find Justice for Fallen Comrades appeared first on Dissent Today.

With Pakistan’s general elections just three days away, the powerful military establishment’s unconstitutional interference is casting a dark shadow over the process and undermining its legitimacy. A review of Pakistan’s electoral history unfortunately shows a recurrence of such rigging, with hardly any of our national elections being fully free and fair. Pakistan has spent over a decade under direct army rule in this mode (1.5 years under Ayub Khan, 2.5 years under Yahya Khan, eight years under Zia ul Haq, and three years under Pervez Musharraf). Even when national elections were subsequently held, they were usually rigged in one way or another.

Pakistan’s first National Assembly was formed following the partition in 1947 that divided the all-India assembly created after the 1946 elections. Members of the National Assembly were elected indirectly by the provincial assemblies. However, Liaquat Ali Khan was not elected as the Prime Minister by the assembly but was appointed to the position by Muhammad Ali Jinnah, who was serving as the President of the Muslim League at the time. Subsequently, Liaquat Ali urged the UK government to appoint Jinnah as the Governor-General.

Assuming that it was following a five-year term, fresh National Assembly elections should have been held by 1951-52, but they were postponed while several Prime Ministers were illegally appointed and fired by an unelected Governor-General. Even that post was filled by appointment rather than elections within assemblies. A second national assembly was elected in 1955 but indirectly, with the provincial assemblies (some of them emerging from rigged elections) serving as the electoral college rather than direct elections based on universal adult franchise.

Several provincial assemblies were dissolved questionably by the Governor-General.

This facade was finally dismantled after the 1958 Martial Law. However, the pressure to establish electoral legitimacy quickly arose, prompting him to introduce his Basic Democracy system, in which 80,000 local legislators were elected through direct elections. Instead of utilizing universal adult franchise for direct elections, he chose to have himself elected as President in a referendum in which these local legislators acted as the electoral college in 1960 for a five-year term.

In 1965, he repeated this exercise with the only change being that Presidential elections included a competitor, Fatima Jinnah. However, the electoral college still consisted of only local legislators. Similarly, elections to the National Assembly in 1962 and 1965 also utilized the same electoral college. In short, no direct national elections were held based on universal franchise for the National Assembly or President/Governor-Generals.

Prime Ministers were typically appointed and dismissed by the Governor-Generals during the first two decades after 1947.

During this era, election delays, manipulation of the electoral college, and dubious appointments and removals of Prime Ministers and Heads of State were the main methods of election rigging.

The main motivation for rigging during this era was the fear held by West Pakistani elites of the numerical majority of Bengalis. The 1970 elections, which featured universal adult franchise, marked the end of this era of indirect elections. These elections are widely recognized as Pakistan’s most fair elections in terms of pre-election and election-day processes. However, their legitimacy was compromised when power was not transferred to the Awami League at the post-election stage, confirming the West Pakistan elite’s worries about a Bengali majority.

The 15 national parliamentary elections that have taken place in Pakistan so far did not fare much better. As mentioned earlier, the first four, held between 1946 and 1965, were all based on indirect elections by provincial or local legislators. In 1970, power was not handed over to the winner. The 1977 election, the only national parliamentary one to be held under an incumbent elected civilian government (PPP), was marred by serious rigging charges such as candidate intimidation, vote stuffing, and media censorship.

While detailed reviews by neutral election observers are not available for these elections, it is generally believed that they increased PPP’s victory margin from a majority to a supermajority. The 1985 elections were held without party representation under army rule, with PPP’s main leaders either in jail or exile, and were highly rigged. The 1988 elections were partially fair, although PPP’s victory margin was likely reduced by selective rigging by the establishment.

However, the elections in 1990, 1993, and 1997 are generally considered rigged. Of the seven elections held from 1970 to 1999, six were rigged to the extent of changing the final victor, while one was partially rigged (1988). Only one of the assemblies (1972-77) completed its term, whereas the other six were dubiously removed through martial law (1977 and 1997) or Presidential dismissals.

The next phase of elections resumed in 2002 after three years of direct army rule and four more parliamentary elections were held, with European Union election observation reports available for each. The reports suggest that the establishment rigging changed the final winner in 2002 and 2018, as well as reduced the PPP’s victory margin in 2008. There is no hint of deliberate rigging in the 2013 elections, although the PPP, ANP, and other centrist parties did not have a level playing field as they were targeted by Taliban
terrorism, which reduced their victory margin without changing the overall winner (PML-N).

Out of the fifteen Presidential and national parliamentary polls held through direct voting since 1947, eleven have been rigged to the extent of changing the final outcome, two were rigged to reduce the victor’s margin (in 1988 and 2008), one was rigged to enhance the victor’s margin (in 1977), and only one was free of deliberate rigging by the establishment or contestants which was in 2013. This marked the only free and fair civilian transfer of power from one fairly elected party to another in our history.

In short, 13 elections were rigged by the establishment and only one by civilians (1977) and that regime lasted only a few months.

The 1970 polls are widely recognized as Pakistan’s fairest elections in terms of pre-election and election-day processes. However, their legitimacy was compromised when power was not transferred to the Awami League.

The 2024 elections

All the telltale signs of rigging present in past parliamentary elections are already visible now before the 2024 elections. This includes the dismissal of the PTI government in a tussle with the establishment in April 2022, and subsequent institution of dubious cases against its top leadership and their arrest without convictions for a long time (Imran Khan, Shah Mahmood and Pervez Elahi). Imran Khan was recently convicted in three dubious cases in a week for a total of 21 years of incarceration through secretive in-prison trials, just days before the elections.

There have been forced or induced desertions by Asad Umar and hundreds of other middle-cadre PTI leaders and workers, often after their incarceration and disappearance and subsequent release. There are media gags and obstructions in the way of the party’s free electioneering reported regularly by media and on social media. In a first, PTI has even been deprived of its election symbol, which may open the doors for forced desertion of its independently running candidates to other parties.

The 2024 elections appear to be more rigged than those held in 2018 and the 1990s, and on par with the 2002 and 1985 elections held under army rule. The establishment has perfected its rigging techniques to the point where it can manipulate elections even under a constitutional rule. In the past, Pakistan was able to get away with significant rigging due to its status as a key US ally during the wars in Afghanistan. It remains to be seen whether western states will tolerate the same level of rigging now that Pakistan is not a key ally.

Recent opinion surveys show that PML-N is gaining ground, which seems odd given the poor economic situation during its recent rule. It also appears that PTI’s fall in such survey is linked to the crackdown on the party, which is forcing electables and voter blocs to switch their loyalties. However, these surveys suggest that we will see a rigged, weak, and inept PML-N coalition coming to power. Such a coalition will lack the legitimacy needed to tackle Pakistan’s multifaceted, colossal issues in governance, and will be subservient to the establishment, whose rigging will help it come to power.

Pakistan’s social, economic, foreign, and security failures are inevitably linked to its political failures. These political failures are undoubtedly connected to the problem of political illegitimacy due to rampant election delays and rigging. The 2024 elections seem to perpetuate that cycle of political illegitimacy and massive problems in all other domains. For this sorry state, the blame mostly lies with the security establishment.

Dr Niaz Murtaza

The writer is an Islamabad-based Political Economist with a Ph.D. From the University of
California, Berkeley. He can be reached at murtazaniaz@yahoo.com. X:@NiazMurtaza2.

The post Explainer: Why Is Every Election In Pakistan Marred By Rigging Allegations? appeared first on Dissent Today.

Any comment on the upcoming elections in Pakistan must begin with an unequivocal acknowledgement that these polls are going to be neither free nor fair.

For months, the military establishment has worked behind the scenes to ensure a result that aligns with its interests, relying on a pliant caretaker administration and the courts to engage in a wave of repression primarily targeted at the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI). The creation of new “king’s” parties in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Punjab, comprised of defectors from the PTI, the incarceration of the party’s leaders and activists, and curbs on the media, all are indicative of the kind of pre-poll rigging that is routinely employed to shape electoral outcomes.

The conviction of former prime minister Imran Khan and party stalwart Shah Mehmood Qureshi in the so-called ‘cipher’ case, just a week before polling day, must also be seen in this context. Many observers agree the case against Khan is flimsy but believing these proceedings have anything to do with legal principles is naïve; if anything, the dubious processes used to convict former prime ministers for allegedly undeclared income or the dissemination of ‘official secrets’ demonstrates how these cases are simply pretexts for eliminating those deemed to be politically undesirable.

Some may argue that what is happening today is no different, in principle, from what happened in 2018. Then, the elected PML-N government was essentially hounded out of office as the military sought to install Imran Khan and the PTI as more pliant governing partners. Indeed, many will recall how Khan and the military repeatedly emphasized they were on the ‘same page’ as part of a hybrid regime. It is also true that once in power, Imran Khan and his party displayed authoritarian tendencies, including cracking down on opposition and dissent, that undermined the slow progress Pakistan was making towards democratization.

None of that, however, can serve as justification for the political manipulation we are currently witnessing. Since the 1950s, the principal impediment to democratization in Pakistan has been the military and its constant interventions in politics. Imran Khan and the PTI were a symptom, not the cause, of Pakistan’s political malaise, and replacing one hybrid regime with another is not reason for celebration. As noted by many of the party’s critics, the crackdown on the PTI is neither unprecedented nor is it the most severe in Pakistan’s history, but that does not excuse it. If anything, it is yet another reminder of just how predictable and cyclical Pakistan’s politics is; once again, as was the case in the 1950s, the 1990s, and the 2000s, we are witnessing little more than a rearrangement of the political chessboard with the military picking and choosing partners it hopes will be aligned with its interests.

For months, the military establishment has worked behind the scenes to ensure a result that aligns with its interests, relying on a pliant caretaker administration and the courts to engage in a wave of repression primarily targeted at the PTI.

Those inclined to take a more charitable view of current events might suggest that undoing the hybrid project of 2018 necessitates the measures that are currently being taken by the military establishment, not least of all because there are elements within the military itself that were and are sympathetic to the PTI. Following from this, it is also suggested Nawaz Sharif, the PML-N more generally, and other parties like the PPP may take a more anti-establishment stance once in power. Having dealt with the supposedly existential threat posed by the PTI, it is argued, these parties will make use of the space available to them to push back against the military and strengthen civilian democratic institutions.

This, however, may be little more than wishful thinking. If the elections yield a result in which no party has a clear majority – the most likely outcome – independents and smaller parties will wield effective veto power enabling the military establishment to rely on ‘parliamentary’ measures to keep the government in check. The fractured and opportunistic nature of the political elite, within and across parties, also means that the military will likely continue to exert influence using its old tricks – court cases, defections, engineered protests by groups like the Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP), and so on. If recent history is anything to go by, those within the PML-N and PPP inclined to take a more confrontational approach to their relationship with the military will find themselves sidelined by their own parties.

Perhaps more importantly, it is necessary to recognize that for all the sound and fury of the elections and the drama surrounding them, there are some structural regularities that will remain in place regardless of who comes to power. All the mainstream parties, without exception, act as little more than vehicles for the protection and articulation of elite interests. On questions of policy, for example, there is little daylight between the parties – particularly when comparing their actual records in office – and there is scant evidence to suggest there are new ideas or commitments to reform that will help Pakistan navigate the difficult times ahead. The blueprint for governance remains the same; reliance on external donors for funding, illusory ‘growth’ fueled by aid, inability and/or reluctance to tax (or in any way inconvenience) the rich, and the abdication of foreign and internal security policy to a military whose primary motivation remains the collection of geo-political rents and safeguarding its own corporate interests. Whatever the outcome in February, there is little reason to expect any meaningful change to the dysfunctional civil-military dynamic that has brought Pakistan to this point.

If there is any cause for optimism, it is to be found outside the rigged arena of mainstream electoral competition. In Balochistan, tens of thousands continue to march against and protest enforced disappearances. Organizations like the Pashtun Tahaffuz Movement (PTM), Aurat March, and progressive student groups continue to mobilize against the state’s excesses. Even in the electoral arena, smaller parties, like the Haqooq-e-Khalq party, and their candidates, offer the promise of radical, progressive change aimed at producing a more inclusive, democratic, and equal Pakistan. Online, despite the curbs imposed by the state, an extremely young and dynamic citizenry continues to evade attempts to police what they can see and say, mobilizing and making use of memes, satire, and other media to have their voices heard. The military establishment and its ever-changing cast of allies will not stop trying to impose their will on Pakistan but they are ultimately fighting a losing battle.

Hassan Javid

The writer was previously an Associate Professor of Sociology at the Lahore University of Management Sciences and is currently based at the University of the Fraser Valley in British Columbia, Canada.

The post Neither Free, Nor Fair: The 2024 Elections in Pakistan appeared first on Dissent Today.

In theory, Pakistan is a federal parliamentary democracy, which elects its representatives through universal adult franchise. Joint electorates which were restored in 2002 mean that all citizens of Pakistan should be placed on the same electoral rolls regardless of their faith. This is true for almost all citizens, Muslims, Hindus, Christians, Sikhs etc., except one community which is placed on a separate list for no plausibly rational reason: the Ahmadi community.

Ahmadis are placed on a supplementary “non-Muslim” list and thus subject to state sponsored discrimination. In 2002, when the joint electorate was restored through an executive order, the then military regime, which otherwise portrayed itself as the bastion of enlightened moderation, placed Ahmadis on this separate list, telling Ahmadis that this was a minor concession to the Mullahs. It was not just a minor concession though because it hit at the root of the idea of citizenship in Pakistan, because from then on Ahmadis are the only other in citizenship category, given that none of the other communities, Muslim or non-Muslim, are placed on a separate list.

Declared non-Muslim for the purposes of law and constitution through a constitutional amendment in 1974, Ahmadis have faced systematic denial of their fundamental rights guaranteed to them under the constitution as citizens, including their right to cast their votes in a general election.

Ahmadis believe that they are Muslims and Article 20 of the Constitution does allow them the right to believe they are, even if the state considers them non-Muslim for the purposes of law and constitution.  Since they believe they are Muslims and have the same names as official Muslims, they somehow are deemed to pose a threat to the faith of the majority by merely being on the same list. Hence, they alone must be placed on this supplementary non-Muslim list. In other words, they can vote only if they accept that they are non-Muslim. To reiterate, Christians, Hindus, Sikhs etc. are placed on the main rolls with Muslims.

Consequently, the Ahmadis have once again decided to boycott the elections this year citing this unconscionable discrimination which, they say in a press release issued by the Anjuman-e-Ahmadiyya, militates against not just the constitutional scheme which speaks of equality but the solemn promises of equality of citizenship that Quaid-e-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah made to all citizens of Pakistan, Muslim or non-Muslim.

Joint electorates which were restored in 2002 mean that all citizens of Pakistan should be placed on the same electoral rolls regardless of their faith. But Ahmadis are placed on a supplementary “non-Muslim” list and thus subject to state-sponsored discrimination.

Supporters of the separate list for Ahmadis and the ensuing discriminatory practices contend that since Ahmadis do not acknowledge their classification as non-Muslims according to the constitution, they should be deemed ineligible for the fundamental rights enshrined in that very constitution. This is a very dangerous argument to make and is patently wrong. Disagreeing with constitutional provisions is neither illegal nor unconstitutional. This is why there is a process to introduce a constitutional amendment. Every time you amend the Constitution, you are actually disagreeing with some part of it. It is therefore perfectly constitutional to disagree with the 2nd Amendment. It is perfectly constitutional to espouse the idea that one day Pakistanis will have the collective wisdom to undo it. The Constitution of Pakistan does not require an Ahmadi to accept that he or she is a non-Muslim. It states that for the purposes of the Law and Constitution, Ahmadis are non-Muslim, which means that an Ahmadi cannot hold the office of the President or Prime Minister.

The right of an Ahmadi to reject the second amendment, however, is protected by Article 20 as well as the Objectives Resolution. The notion that Ahmadis will be granted their rights as citizens only if they concede their non-Muslim status, is an untenable proposition. Conversely, even if Ahmadis were to acquiesce to this demand, some might subsequently insist on labeling them as Murtad or apostates. Ultimately, this amounts to calling forth a flood.  Ahmadis’ resistance to their pigeonholing into the non-Muslim category is actually a very needed push back to the idea that the state can decide who is a Muslim and who is not.

This question aside, the denial of franchise on the basis of a theological question is out of step with the idea of a nation state in 21^st century. While there are states that confine citizenship to one group or the other or make citizenship rights contingent on religious or ethnic considerations, those states are no models to emulate. As the Supreme Court of Pakistan held in the Tahir Naqqash case in 2022, the Pakistani constitution does not disavow Ahmadis as citizens and therefore the state is bound to accord to them equal rights regardless of their status as Muslims or Non-Muslims. The Constitution of 1973 states in 106(2):

“A person shall be entitled to vote if-

(a)       he is a citizen of Pakistan;

(b)       he is not less than eighteen years of age;

(c)       his name appears on the electoral roll; and

(d)       he is not declared by a competent court to be of unsound mind.”

Furthermore, Pakistan is bound by its international covenants to accord this right.  Article 21 of the Universal Declaration on Human Rights states:

“Everyone has the right to take part in the government of his country, directly or through freely chosen representatives.”

Article 25 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) that Pakistan ratified in 2010 states:

“Every citizen shall have the right and the opportunity, without any of the distinctions mentioned in article 2 and without unreasonable restrictions:

(a) To take part in the conduct of public affairs, directly or through freely chosen

representatives;

(b) To vote and to be elected at genuine periodic elections which shall be by

universal and equal suffrage and shall be held by secret ballot, guaranteeing the

free expression of the will of the electors”

The question of faith therefore cannot arise when determining electoral rolls. Every citizen ought to be on the same roll without exception.  As things stand, Ahmadis are excluded from this basic exercise of citizenship and this violates Pakistan’s international obligations. Technically this would be enough to strip Pakistan of its GSP+ status and other preferential trade deals that have been linked to the country’s fulfillment of these obligations. The problem is easily fixable (put everyone on the same list) but the state seems utterly powerless against extremists that drive this popular discrimination.

Yasser Latif Hamdani

The writer is an advocate of the high courts of Pakistan and author of ‘Jinnah: A Life.’

The post Pakistan Is Violating Its International Obligations By Excluding Ahmadis From Elections appeared first on Dissent Today.

In December, Bilawal expressed similar sentiments about hateful narratives in politics while addressing a workers’ convention in Hyderabad. During the gathering, he advocated for an end to the practice of labeling each other as “traitors,” stating that the politics of hatred and division must come to an end.

During another occasion in November, the PPP Chairman stated that the “old system of politics” needed to be replaced with a new one, empowering young people to make decisions and lead the country towards progress.

Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari’s calls to end hateful politics come at a time when the nation is deeply divided along political lines, with workers and supporters of mainstream political parties labeling each other as “traitors” and “anti-state.” In these polarizing times, Bilawal’s emphasis on the need to bring civility back to politics is a welcome development. The upcoming election in Pakistan will take place against a backdrop of concerns about the state of the country’s democracy and human rights. Therefore, a mainstream political leader’s acknowledgment that the current political dynamics are flawed is noteworthy.

News Desk

dissenttoday.net

The post Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari’s Calls For Bringing Civility Back To Politics Must Be Heeded appeared first on Dissent Today.

Reflecting on the 2018 elections, where Imran Khan’s PTI secured victory amidst allegations of collaboration with the powerful military establishment, the political stage in Balochistan appears even more convoluted as the upcoming polls near. The complexities are heightened as former prime minister Nawaz Sharif makes a controversial return to the political arena, accompanied by allegations of systematic cleansing of those not aligned with his cause.

Balochistan becomes a battleground for political engineering, where power corridors employ familiar tactics to stifle opposition and shape the electoral narrative, leaving the province in a crisis. 

The echoes of 2018 continue to be heard as similar tactics, such as sidelining the National Party, another key nationalist political group in Balochistan, continue to pose a threat to democracy in the province. 

These repeated tactics, exemplified by the initial rejection of Sardar Akhter Mengal’s nomination papers, threaten to worsen the already extensive political grievances in Balochistan. The province is already grappling with long-standing humanitarian crises, and the people’s disillusionment with the federation intensifies as they perceive a lack of interest in addressing their urgent issues.

The gap between Balochistan and the central government is growing, fueled by a sense of neglect and frustration resulting from electoral maneuvers that seem to undermine the essence of democracy. At this critical juncture, the province risks drifting further away from the federation as Balochistan’s people question the commitment of the broader political landscape to genuinely resolve enduring crises.

Ahead of the general elections, Balochistan finds itself marginalized, overshadowed by the strategic interests of mainstream political parties.

For example, concerns arise with the selection of candidates from Nawaz Sharif’s party, PMLN, for the upcoming election. The party’s decision to prioritize so-called “electables,” who are perceived to be aligned with power corridors, rather than candidates committed to public welfare, adds to the apprehensions.

The people of Balochistan fear that governments acting as proxies for the powerful military will advance their self-serving agendas at the expense of the public’s well-being. This fear is reflected in the voter turnout during the 2018 elections, which was notably lower in Balochistan compared to the national average. This stark contrast increases anxieties about further political manipulation and a growing disconnect between the aspirations of the Baloch people and the political processes in the rest of the country.

Ahead of the general elections, Balochistan finds itself marginalized, overshadowed by the strategic interests of mainstream political parties. With only 16 national assembly seats out of a total of 266, the province becomes a pawn in the larger political game. This marginalization leaves Balochistan in the hands of “electables,” political figures driven more by opportunism than a genuine commitment to principles or the welfare of the people. This results in a longing for genuine representation and a political landscape that reflects the diverse aspirations of the Baloch people.

Balochistan, the largest province of Pakistan, faces a range of challenges, from health and education to climate change and human rights violations. The struggle for justice in the province takes place in the context of enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killings, creating a symphony of crises that resonates through its communities.

The haunting specter of enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killings casts a shadow over Balochistan, portraying a region grappling not only with the tangible difficulties of daily life, but also with the intangible toll of denied rights and deferred justice. Despite these interconnected crises, the people of Balochistan persevere, seeking not just survival, but a future where the symphony transforms into progress and lasting peace.

In the whispers of Balochistan, the recent long march stands as a poignant testament to the deep distrust among the people. This march, which has now turned into a persistent camp at the National Press Club in Islamabad, is an impassioned plea against enforced disappearances. It represents an expression of the people’s exhaustion and disillusionment with the current political leadership. They seek change and solace in a new leader, Mahrang Baloch, who embodies their hope for a better future.

As we navigate the complex political terrain of Balochistan, questions arise. What has truly changed in 2023? The answers may lie in the resilience of the people and their urgent call for a political landscape that genuinely addresses their aspirations and concerns.

Ali Manzoor Baloch

The writer is a media graduate and aspiring journalist from Balochistan, based in Islamabad.

The post As Pakistan Heads to the Polls, Sense of Disillusionment Going Strong in Balochistan appeared first on Dissent Today.

In a post on social media platform X (formerly Twitter), the NDM condemned the attack and noted that terrorism is on the rise in Waziristan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP).

“How will level playing field be provided to Chairman Mohsin Dawar in such a dangerous environment? We demand an immediate investigation into this attack. The local administration has to make security arrangements for the candidates. We demand the Election Commissioner to immediately call an emergency meeting regarding the security of candidates in Pakhtunkhwa,” the statement added.

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Not to mention General Zia ul Haq’s Islamization process which did undoable damage to the country. 

The history of this phenomenon dates back centuries. In 1857, when the Mughal Empire breathed its last and power transitioned from the Muslims to the British Raj, Muslims were humiliated by the Raj, whereas Hindus were quick to adapt to the methods of their new masters. But the demoralized and humiliated Muslim nation without power for the first time in centuries was not so quick in adapting to the changing circumstances. Instead of introspecting on their own failures, they were quick to bring in Islam and saw their loss as a divine punishment. They thought that Allah had inflicted his anger and displeasure on the Muslims because they didn’t follow the teachings of Islam and left the path of the Almighty, and for Muslims to reclaim their glory, they must return to Islam.

Eight years after the rebellion against the British, in 1866, Dar ul-Uloom Deoband was established by two renowned Muslim scholars, Muhammad Qasim Nanautavi and Rashid Ahmad Gangohi. The effort was first aimed at preaching Jihad against the British Raj; as viewed by Nanautavi, “European Christians were now masters of the land long ruled by Indian Muslims”. Similarly, for Khan, he is the only one who deserves to have the throne which was “stolen” from him by his political rivals.

He promised an Islamic utopia to his followers and sought their loyalty by promising to turn Pakistan into a “Riasat e Madina” (state of Medina), but failed. In October 2018, the Supreme Court of Pakistan announced its verdict in blasphemy-accused Christian woman Asia Bibi’s case and acquitted her. The verdict sparked fierce outrage from Islamic hardliners, whom Khan once sided with during the Faizabad protests against the then government of Pakistan Muslim League – N (PML-N) just a year ago. Workers and supporters of religious extremist group, Tehreek-e-Labaik Pakistan (TLP) took to the streets and vandalized public property. Khan then addressed the nation and defended the Supreme Court’s verdict, only to take a u-turn later. Khan played the politics of appeasement and capitulated to the demands of the TLP. It was the first of many instances where his government sided with hardliners to appease them. In October 2021, a parliamentary committee rejected the Anti-Forced Conversion Bill, which criminalized forced conversions, terming the bill “anti-Islamic and against the Constitution of Pakistan.”

Imran Khan also formed the “Rehmatul-lil-Alameen Authority”, tasked with keeping the state structure in alignment with the teachings of Islam and Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). Writing for The Express Tribune in January 2022, Imran Khan laid more emphasis on the purpose of Rehmatul-lil-Alameen authority, which would engage in “amr bil maroof” (doing good), with its primary duty being the moral, ethical, and spiritual development of youth at the school and university levels.

This is where Imran Khan was wrong. Religion is a private matter. No state should use its authority to intervene in it at any level, as it drifts the state away from its other obligations. The continuous use of religion in politics also shifts the focus of public debate away from real-world issues, such as law and order, poverty, inflation, governance, terrorism, etc., that weaker democracies like Pakistan face. But for Khan It appears that he has mastered the art of nationalism. The agitation we saw since April 2022, which peaked on May 9, was to create a political crisis to force the state to bow down before Khan directly, but he failed to make that happen.

Imran Khan thinks the country cannot survive without him. He does not believe in dialogue, and he is willing to hold negotiations with the Taliban but not with his political rivals. Since the vote of no confidence against him, Khan has played all his hands to force one political crisis after another. First, his party resigned from the National Assembly, 123 of his party members submitted their resignation en masse to the speaker of the National Assembly and walked out of the parliament. Then Khan dissolved the Punjab and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa assemblies; his party was majority in both provinces, yet he failed to get early elections.

The current position of Khan is like that of a lone warrior who burned all his boats long before entering the endgame. Now a challenge awaits him at the battlefront. To keep his warriors charged up to fight the battle, he needs something. With no governance performance to his credit to show to his supporters, he will be on a Religious Nationalism run. One cannot ask or expect Khan to stop using the religion card, because it pays dividends without any big investment.

Zubair Ahmad

The writer is a graduate of FAST National University.

The post How Imran Khan Mastered the Art of Manipulation appeared first on Dissent Today.

Is a script that is all too familiar in Pakistan: an elected Prime Minister is ousted under dubious circumstances and is replaced by a rival who ‘wins’ a rigged election. It is clear that this sequence of events has been orchestrated by the military establishment, just as it is when, a few years later, the cycle repeats itself as yet another civilian leader is removed from power through questionable means. The constitutionality of the mechanisms employed to achieve these outcomes remains the subject of vociferous partisan debate. And as has been the case since the late 1940s, these developments are accompanied by vicious recriminations, accusations of corruption, and vows of ‘accountability’ and vengeance hurled by antagonistic political parties.

Amidst all the rallies and speechifying, the courts make repeated interventions in the political arena, tilting the balance in favour of one faction or another using judicial logic seemingly based more on expedience and ideological bias than any consistent set of principles. As these shenanigans unfold, becoming yet another chapter in the unending ‘crisis’ that confronts Pakistan, the specter of economic meltdown looms ever larger; despite, or perhaps because of, a record number of IMF-bailouts, numerous five-year plans, grandiose claims about ‘geo-economics’ and trade, countless campaign promises, and the oft-repeated mantra that things will be different this time, Pakistan’s economic prospects remain perennially bleak.

Watching the chaos in Pakistan, it is often easy to get swept up in the roiling currents of everyday events. The contemporary media landscape, with its polarized online discourse and unending competition for attention through ‘breaking’ news and breathless, endless punditry and ‘analysis’, distorts and magnifies the importance of even the smallest political pronouncements and acts; rallies are always unprecedented in size, persecution always unique in its savagery, and legal cases always unmatched in their implications.

Yet, the apparent ferocity of all this political conflict, and the seemingly apocalyptic stakes involved in its resolution, ultimately serves to do little more than mask the truly ephemeral nature of these events. The more things change, the more they stay the same and if the aim is to try and make sense of Pakistan, it is important to look beyond the banal gladiatorial theatrics that dominate the airwaves and instead look to the structural causes of perpetual crisis.

The first step in this direction should be, perhaps, to identify exactly what it is that does not change in Pakistan. First, while it has been a decade and a half since a dictator formally ruled Pakistan, the fact remains that the powerful military establishment remains firmly entrenched as the locus of power in the country, presiding over a vast economic empire, claiming a substantial share of public revenues both directly and indirectly, exercising influence over ‘civilian’ politics, and directing vast swathes of domestic and foreign policy. Second, the civilian political elite remains relatively small and privileged; research suggests that just 400 ‘dynastic’ families have dominated electoral politics in Punjab since the 1970s, and the Pakistani ruling class continues to be comprised of land and capital owning elites who, for all their factional disputes and differences, remain united in their common commitment to perpetuating and strengthening an economic status quo within which they are able to protect and pursue their interests at the expense of the country’s working classes. Third, state power in Pakistan remains centralized with Islam being used to legitimize a parochial official narrative of nationhood and citizenship while also being employed to crush dissent articulated in ethno-national, leftist, or other terms seen as threatening to the continued exercise of power by those holding public office in both its elected and unelected forms.

These three features – praetorianism, ruling class domination, and religious legitimation – are embedded within the institutional framework of Pakistan’s politics and are arguably interlinked. In my own research, for example, I have explored the colonial roots of elite domination in Pakistan, examining how the exercise of power by the British necessarily rested on the creation and continuous reproduction of a bargain between an authoritarian state elite and influential local landholders whereby the former traded patronage for the political support of the latter.

Driven by the imperatives of economic accumulation and the maintenance of order, yet perennially confronted with the possibility of resistance, the colonial state saw traditional landed elites – wielding economic and social power based on their ownership of property and their position within networks of caste and kinship – as powerful bulwarks against the growth of anti-colonial and possibly nationalist sentiment. In the years following the Revolt of 1857, all the way up to 1947, colonial policy in much of modern-day Pakistan was explicitly geared towards empowering these traditional elites, granting them property, political position, electoral legitimacy, and even legislative authority in exchange for their continued support for British rule. The net effect of these measures was to further strengthen and entrench these elites, leaving them well placed to capture state power in any post-colonial dispensation.

Following independence, many of the same pressures that shaped British policy were faced by an ‘overdeveloped’ military and bureaucratic apparatus that seized control of the state but which found itself searching for political allies as it struggled to assert its authority. The same traditional elites who underpinned colonial power struck a similar bargain with Pakistan’s new military authoritarians and while the nature of these allegiances would shift as different factions of this elite jockeyed for influence, the fundamental contours of the arrangement remained unchanged as the decades went by; in its quest to secure its own interests, the military establishment dispensed patronage to propertied civilian elites who, in turn, used their position to mobilize support for the state and, not coincidentally, further entrench themselves within the framework of politics. As and when challenges to this monopolization of power by the ruling class emerged, the brutal use of state coercion was supplemented by the strategic deployment of Islam, which proved to be a potent ideological mechanism through which resistance could be delegitimized and discredited.

A lot has changed over the past eight decades, but this pattern of politics has proven to be incredibly resilient. The landlords who dominated civilian politics in the years following independence gradually diversified into industry, constituting the core of a new capitalist elite. The expansion of the ‘democratic’ and electoral area, through for example the introduction of local governments, was designed to reinforce centralized state authority and served as a pathway for the creation and cultivation of new propertied elites. The diversification of the economy, accelerated by ‘liberalization’ since the 1980s, created new opportunities for the military and civilian elite to extract rents, and the ‘new’ middle classes emerging in Pakistan’s rapidly growing cities were either co opted by the state through the strategic provision of patronage, or limited by the barriers erected by the entrenched propertied classes. While popular movements – fighting against military authoritarianism and elite power, and for the dignity and rights of Pakistan’s women, ethnic and religious minorities, and working classes – sometimes offered glimmers of hope that a different world was possible, their radical potential was rapidly extinguished, replaced by state-sponsored religious nationalism and empty populism.

It is in this context that Pakistan now faces the crises that it does. When the structure of the state was designed, from its very inception, to pursue the interests of the military establishment and its civilian allies, it should be unsurprising that the economy is thoroughly cartelized and oriented towards continued accumulation by propertied elites motivated by a desire to do nothing more than protect their own positions. When political competition and outcomes have always been engineered, it is no wonder that elected and unelected holders of public office feel no obligation to serve voters who are not, in any case, beholden to the acquisition of power. When there is little accountability through democratic mechanisms like voting, and when the state has historically been able to rely on geo-political rents in the form of aid to sustain its existence, what could possibly compel those in power to look beyond their own interests when charting a path forward for Pakistan?

Democratizing Pakistan must involve a direct confrontation with Pakistan’s traditional economic elite, the landholders, industrialists, and financiers who command the heights of the country’s political economy.

This necessarily generalized and perhaps stylized view of Pakistan’s politics may lack some nuance, but it does capture that fundamental issue at the heart of the country’s governance and it is here that It becomes possible to imagine what it might take to change things for the better. In one word, what Pakistan needs is democracy. Yet this oft-maligned word requires clarification and elaboration. For Pakistan to prosper, it must be democratic yet this democratic future must be fundamentally different from the country’s ‘democratic’ past. Democracy, in this context, must mean something much more substantive than simply holding election. It must involve a fundamental restructuring of the entire political order and crucially, the extension of democratic principles to the governance of the economy.

What would this mean in practice? First, and perhaps most importantly of all, any meaningful effort to democratize Pakistan must begin with a principled and uncompromising commitment to challenging the power of the military establishment. The military’s involvement in politics – from its coups to the engineering involved in rigging elections, crafting backroom deals, and pitting different factions/parties against each other – has arguably been the main impediment to the development of democratic institutions and practice in Pakistan. By banning and persecuting political parties and leaders, empowering so-called ‘electables’ drawn from the traditional elite, exerting influence over the judiciary, and playing a lead role in suppressing dissent in all its manifestations, the military has effectively severed the connection between democracy and accountability in Pakistan. And this is in addition to the corrosive effect of its economic interests, foreign policy priorities, and parochial, self-serving approach to ‘national security’.

Second, democratizing Pakistan must involve a direct confrontation with Pakistan’s traditional economic elite, the landholders, industrialists, and financiers who command the heights of the country’s political economy. As discussed above, this class has historically been aligned with the military, and even those fractions that have remained avowedly ‘apolitical’ have nonetheless benefitted from their proximity to power, influencing policy and extracting rents. These elites have also dominated Pakistan’s political parties and the hollowness of their commitment to democratic principles is perhaps best exposed by their relentless competition to strike deals with the very same military establishment they often claim to oppose. The alternative to these elites, and the parties that control, would be any movement that explicitly commits itself to mobilizing the country’s working classes, building coalitions from below based on the inclusion of, and extension of dignity to, the poor, women, ethnic and religious minorities – and all those brutalized and exploited by the civilian and military elites who have ruled Pakistan.

By banning and persecuting political parties and leaders, empowering so-called ‘electables’ drawn from the traditional elite, and playing a lead role in suppressing dissent, the military has effectively severed the connection between democracy and accountability in Pakistan.

Third, building on the first two principles, democratizing Pakistan necessarily means exercising democratic control over the economy. The structural problems underpinning Pakistan’s dismal economic performance are numerous, and opinions on how to deal with them may differ, but it seems clear that elite domination and the logic of the market have both combined to create a situation in which ‘growth’, such as it is, benefits the few even as the many struggle to make ends meet.

For an economy to be governed through democratic principles, it would not be sufficient for it to be subject to formal control through parliament; instead, it would be characterized by a fundamental commitment to the pursuit of welfare over profit, and equity over growth. The institutional and organizational form taken by such an economy would, in the final analysis, be determined by the strength and ideology of any popular movement that might seek to bring it into existence – would it have collective ownership, competing cooperatives, or simply high levels of regulation and redistribution etc. – but it would nonetheless be an economy that put people – the toiling majority – first.

The word utopia means ‘no place’, and has often been used to describe political outcomes that, while desirable, are ultimately unachievable. The demands and realities of practicality often provide the justification for compromise and while many may agree on what needs to be done, far fewer will commit to actually achieving such goals.
Pakistan’s history shows that the power of the military and civilian elite – and all that flows from it – is deeply entrenched and difficult to dislodge.

Genuine attempts to change the status quo in the past have foundered, and there is little reason to believe things will be different in the near future. Yet, recognizing the difficulty of bringing about change should not lead to a willful limiting of our political imaginaries. Indeed the utility of utopian thinking may lay in precisely how it serves to help us uncover precisely what it is we oppose and hope to achieve, setting benchmarks that we aspire to through political struggle. As Gramsci famously said, “pessimism of the intellect, optimism of the will.”

Hassan Javid

The writer was previously an Associate Professor of Sociology at the Lahore University of Management Sciences and is currently based at the University of the Fraser Valley in British Columbia, Canada.

The post Democratizing Pakistan: It’s Not Just About Holding Elections appeared first on Dissent Today.