In the halls of parliament, unease spreads like wildfire. The much-anticipated "constitutional package" has been shown to the public, and the reaction is one of disbelief and anger. The amendments, cloaked in secrecy until the last moment, are met with a swift and forceful backlash. Parliament, despite being its supposed guardian, seems powerless, and the "constitutional package" becomes an orphan the moment it’s revealed.
Support for this package is not only shocking but self-destructive. Historically, when political figures sought refuge from authoritarian rule, it was the judiciary that safeguarded democracy. Yet, in a stunning twist, those very politicians now stand poised to dismantle the judiciary’s independence — the last line of defense against tyranny. So, the question arises: why would they sign their own political death warrants?
This isn’t the first assault on the judiciary. What we witness today is part of a longstanding war against judicial independence, where power is systematically ceded to the hawks and praetorians.
Recent political events offer a striking parallel. The crackdown on Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) legislators, arrested without warning or due process, was met with outrage. Yet, the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N) swiftly countered, arguing that the true threat to the constitution lies not in arrests but in incendiary rhetoric and foreign dealings. Despite the chaos, it’s clear that Pakistan’s political elite are experts in weaponizing outrage to suit their agendas.
Pakistan’s relationship with democracy is fraught with contradictions. We wanted the sleek image of democracy without fully grasping its essence. Our leadership, trapped in a cycle of self-serving decisions, seems blind to the sanctity of parliament. Now, the real threat to democracy emerges with the proposed constitutional amendments — a deliberate move to strip the judiciary of its power and subject it to the whims of the executive.
These amendments seek to hollow out the Supreme Court’s authority, undermining its ability to protect fundamental rights and granting unchecked power to the praetorians. The independence of the judiciary, enshrined in the constitution, is at risk of being obliterated. This is not reform but a blatant attempt to control the courts.
Yet, amidst the darkness, there is a glimmer of hope. It was Maulana Fazlur Rehman’s great refusal to support such amendments that bought us time to rally. His resistance offers a moment to reflect on the fragile state of our democracy and the peril it faces.
As Judge Learned Hand once remarked, democracy cannot rely solely on the judiciary to guard liberty. A strong judiciary can support democracy, but it cannot sustain it. The real threat lies not just in the praetorians who demand obedience, but in politicians who willingly surrender their powers and responsibilities.
For every politician willing to make a deal with the Devil, there must be others who stand for higher ideals. It is these silent defenders of democracy — often unappreciated and scorned — who keep the flame of liberty alive. And it is their courage we need now more than ever
