magine the irony of writing about the human rights situation in a country on its Independence Day! To hear about the government’s resolve to celebrate the Independence Day with ‘exceptional enthusiasm,’ constituting a special committee to oversee the celebrations; to read in the newspaper about another incident of a Christian woman arrested for allegedly desecrating the pages of the Holy Quran in a village close to Gojra, the complainant being a neighbour (There was a mob, yes, that blocked Motorway M-4, demanding her arrest, the report says. The dateline reads Toba Tek Singh) – that is the irony, being played out on repeat.

The real challenge in writing about the human rights situation is that you don’t know where to begin and how to prioritise, without feeling frustrated about it becoming worse with each passing day.

You can’t flaunt truisms like “human rights are interdependent and indivisible” when the state and the society are bent upon violating them separately. The collective picture looks bleak because the constitutional framework that contains fundamental freedoms and ideas of equal citizenship is being rejected by the state itself and trampled upon. Human rights are known to flourish in a democratic environment; what should one expect when democracy is reduced to a notional version of itself?

So where does one begin?

Perhaps, it’s okay to start by analysing some recent political developments: maybe by looking at the general elections in February this year and what preceded and followed. We made a farce of a political act that allows people the right to vote, to elect or change a government, to be represented, to hold their representatives accountable and to contribute to democratic governance. Not for the first time, of course, but equally not without a blatant blow to the credibility of this huge and expensive exercise.

All kinds of human rights violations were perpetrated to stop a popular party. There were arbitrary arrests, enforced disappearances, intimidation and audio and video leaks. Many left the party to join the king’s party or were not allowed to campaign. Finally, the party symbol was taken away from all contesting candidates. Consequently, the courts were drawn into endless legal battles amid allegations of partisanship from all sides.

A minister announced recently that the government planned to ban the party. It was not a new call. One had heard this long before the elections, in May 2023 when the then defence minister mentioned the idea. The elections were postponed in violation of the constitution. The caretaker governments exceeded their constitutional mandate and period.

The May 9 excesses were construed as acts of terrorism and, yet, the anti-terrorism courts were not deemed fit to try the suspects. There were calls to try them in military courts; the matter is still pending before the Supreme Court; again, not for the first time. The anti-terrorism courts – any courts for that matter – were considered insufficient in 2015 when a constitutional amendment was brought to institute military courts for those facing trial on terrorism charges, albeit, with a sunset clause.

That’s where the challenge lies for human rights defenders: a polity that uses laws to curb the people’s and political opponents’ rights. There are colonial laws on statute books like the sedition law, laws against freedom of assembly, blasphemy laws, hate speech laws, Frontier Crimes Regulations, etc. These have been supplemented with post-colonial laws like the Prevention of Anti-National Activities Act, the Actions in Aid of Civil Power Regulations 2011, the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act, 2016, etc. Among the post-colonial laws, the one that has had the widest impact on fundamental rights was the Anti-Terrorism Act, 1997. Now, this too, is considered insufficient. So the polity keeps adding to the list of such laws.

The less said about the freedom of expression, assembly and movement, the better. Peaceful marches and protest demonstrations have faced the wrath of the state in Bannu, Gwadar and Quetta as much as in the big cities.

But it may be worthwhile to examine the big picture against the human rights of the marginalised sections of society. This being August 11, one is tempted to look at the case of the Christian woman mentioned above or the not too distant mob lynching of Nazir Masih in Mujahid Colony, Sargodha, where most of the accused are said to have been released on bail. Note that Sargodha happened after Jaranwala, which the human rights community thought was a watershed incident, internationally flashed and, therefore, a wake-up call for the state. Attacks on minority places of worship, sometimes with alleged connivance of the administration, continue. The Ahmadis’ right to worship, even within the confines of their homes, is now restricted.

In a recent meeting of an inter-faith working group, members said the situation was becoming worse for religious minorities, who were forced to “migrate or convert.” There were loud calls to reform curriculum, train teachers, clerics and police and change discriminatory laws to deal with a radicalised society. The state’s silence amounts to complicity, making them more vulnerable, they said.

Another group that remains extremely vulnerable and without any legal protection is the so-called ‘undocumented foreigners.’ A majority of them are Afghans living in Pakistan for decades. An executive order late last year to expel them all within a month, amounted to their forced repatriation. Pakistan does not have a rights-based domestic policy on refugees that enables their voluntary repatriation, in compliance with international standards of dignity and safety, based on informed consent for their return and reintegration.

The state of human rights is deplorable and the list of violations endless. After a while, listing the challenges seems pointless. A powerful establishment, a majoritarian religion and a centralised state have often worked together to the detriment of all kinds of rights, to violate constitutionalism, democracy and rule of law. The way forward lies in correcting the placement of these forces.

The writer is a former editor of TNS. She is currently the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan director