Pakistan's Human Rights Hypocrisy: Bullets in ‘Azad Kashmir’, Sermons to World

Every year, Pakistan marks “Youm-e-Istehsal” (Day of Exploitation) on 5 August to draw attention to what it describes as the ‘plight of Kashmiris in India’ and impassioned appeals to the international community to defend human rights. Its diplomats speak the language of justice, self-determination and democratic freedoms. 

But the latest unrest in Pakistan-Administered Kashmir is not merely another episode of political instability. It is a test of Pakistan's credibility. Reports from international media and human rights organisations indicate that demonstrations led by the Jammu Kashmir Joint Awami Action Committee (JAAC) against Islamabad's political interference and the controversial allocation of reserved legislative seats have been met with an aggressive security response. 

Protest leaders have alleged that over 60 demonstrators were killed and hundreds injured in firing by the Pakistan Army, while Pakistani authorities have defended the crackdown, citing security concerns and claiming hostile elements had infiltrated the protests. 

The precise death toll may ultimately be established only through an impartial inquiry. But one fact is already undeniable: a political dispute has been transformed into a human rights crisis.

Even more disturbing than the violence itself has been the rhetoric surrounding it. Pakistan's Defence Minister Khawaja Asif reportedly described protesters in Pakistan Administered Kashmir as "enemies like India." Such language does more than inflame tensions; it strips citizens of democratic legitimacy and recasts political dissent as an act of national betrayal. Once a government begins treating its own protesting citizens as enemies, the distance between policing and repression rapidly narrows.

Since its independence, Pakistan's human rights record has been shadowed by allegations of enforced disappearances, arbitrary detention, restrictions on freedom of expression, and excessive use of force. Successive reports by international human rights organisations have documented recurring concerns across several provinces, where ethnic minorities and political activists have accused the state of responding to grievances with coercion rather than dialogue.

Nowhere has this pattern been more visible than in Balochistan. For years, Baloch families have marched across the country carrying photographs of missing relatives, demanding answers from a state that has too often responded with silence. Human rights groups have repeatedly documented allegations of enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killings. Pakistani authorities maintain that military operations are necessary to combat separatist violence and terrorism, but the persistence of these allegations has left deep scars on the country's democratic credentials.

In Sindh, nationalist activists have frequently complained of political repression and arbitrary arrests. In Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Pashtun rights activists have alleged harassment, prolonged detentions and restrictions on peaceful assembly while demanding accountability for military operations in conflict-affected areas. Although the circumstances differ across regions, the underlying complaint remains remarkably consistent: communities seeking constitutional rights often find themselves confronting the overwhelming power of the state’s security apparatus.

This recurring pattern is not simply about governance. It reflects an institutional mindset that readily interprets every dissent through the prism of national security.

For Bangladeshis, this pattern evokes painful historical memories.

The events of 1971 stand as one of South Asia's darkest reminders of what happens when legitimate political aspirations are met not with dialogue but with military force. The Pakistan Army's campaign in what was then East Pakistan produced widespread atrocities, mass displacement and unimaginable human suffering before culminating in Bangladesh's Liberation War. The tragedy was not born overnight. It emerged from years of political exclusion, denial of democratic mandates and the belief that coercion could substitute for political accommodation.

History never repeats itself in identical form. Yet history does leave enduring lessons. One of those lessons is that states rarely secure lasting unity through repression. Force may suppress voices temporarily, but it cannot extinguish demands for dignity, representation and justice.

That is precisely why developments in Pakistan-Administered Kashmir deserve international attention—not because they fit neatly into geopolitical rivalries, but because they raise universal questions about democratic accountability.

Significantly, some of the strongest criticism has come from within Pakistan itself. Former Ambassador Maleeha Lodhi publicly questioned Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif's silence regarding those killed during the crackdown while he expressed sympathy for victims of wildfires in Europe. 

Equally telling has been the reaction across the Line of Control. Political leaders in Jammu and Kashmir in India, despite profound ideological differences on many issues, have broadly condemned the use of lethal force against peaceful demonstrators and called upon Pakistan to engage protesters through dialogue rather than violence. Such rare political consensus underscores the seriousness of the crisis.

Pakistan undoubtedly faces genuine security challenges, including militancy and political instability. Yet democratic states are judged not by whether they face security threats but by how they respond to them. International human rights law demands that force be necessary, proportionate and accountable. It does not permit the routine conflation of peaceful protest with sedition.

As Pakistan once again seeks international support for the rights of Kashmiris in India, it must confront a question that no diplomatic campaign can evade: how persuasive is the language of justice when protesters under its own administration allege that they are being silenced by gun and force?

Nations earn moral authority not by the eloquence of their speeches but by the consistency of their conduct.

Until Pakistan demonstrates the same commitment to civil liberties in Pakistan Administered Kashmir, Balochistan, Sindh and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa that it demands elsewhere, its human rights advocacy will continue to be overshadowed by uncomfortable realities at home. The most powerful defence of human rights begins not at international forums, but within a country's own borders.