Sovereignty under siege

The politics of destabilisation

For several years, the Asma Jahangir Conference has projected itself as a citadel of human rights and democratic values. Yet beneath the polished lexicon of constitutionalism and civil liberties, the conference has increasingly become a sustained propaganda campaign against Pakistan’s state institutions and sovereign framework. What is marketed as progressive discourse often degenerates into a rehearsed indictment of the very pillars that uphold the federation.

Democracy fortifies state institutions; not demonize them. However, at the AJC, democracy is frequently deployed as a rhetorical instrument to cast the Armed Forces of Pakistan as a perennial menace rather than as a bulwark against insurgency and hybrid warfare. Freedom of speech, similarly, is invoked in absolutist terms, not as a constitutional right balanced with responsibility, but as an elastic shield that at times appears to rationalise or sanitise narratives aligned with militancy. The dangerous conflation of dissent with destabilisation is rarely acknowledged.

An even more disquieting pattern is the transformation of anti-state actors and internationally funded proxies into purported humanitarian icons. Individuals and groups whose rhetoric undermines national cohesion are often framed as victims or champions of justice, while the structural threats confronting Pakistan— particularly externally sponsored terrorism— are relegated to the margins of discourse.

It has become a recurring observation that segments of civil society weaponise what critics describe as the “Aurat card” to smuggle international agendas into Pakistan’s socio-political matrix. Movements and organisations such as Aurat March, the Baloch Yakjehti Committee (BYC), the Pashtun Tahafuz Movement (PTM), and certain NGOs are frequently cited in this debate. The AJC itself is perceived as employing gender discrimination narratives as a moral shield, portraying itself as an innocent advocate for women while challenging the cultural and social fabric rooted in Islam and constitutional identity. Advocacy for women’s rights is indispensable; however, when framed in adversarial terms that pit one segment of society against another, it risks deepening fissures rather than healing them.

Most striking is the conference’s consistent reluctance to unequivocally condemn terrorism within Pakistan. The country has sacrificed more than 94,000 lives in its war against terror and endured economic losses exceeding $150 billion. In Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, security forces continue to confront Fitna-tul-Khawarij (TTP) and Fitnat-ul-Hindustan (BLA), entities receiving external patronage, particularly from India. Recent coordinated attacks across 12 locations in Balochistan, decisively repelled by Pakistani forces, did not elicit categorical condemnation from the AJC. Nor has the conference foregrounded solidarity with the families who have borne the ultimate sacrifice.

The future of Pakistan depends on cohesion, institutional respect, and an uncompromising stance against terrorism and secessionism. Human rights advocacy must be principled, not partisan; balanced, not selective. Until the Asma Jahangir Conference aligns itself unequivocally with Pakistan’s sovereignty and constitutional integrity, it will remain emblematic not of reform, but of a narrative that risks eroding the very state whose freedoms it purports to defend.

Instead, the conference has amplified calls for the release of figures such as Mahrang Baloch, associated with the BYC, framing such advocacy within the idiom of human rights. This asymmetry— harsh scrutiny of the state coupled with empathetic framing of controversial actors— has fuelled perceptions of selective activism.

The inconsistency extends to global human rights crises. In Indian Illegally Occupied Jammu and Kashmir, the mass killings, enforced disappearances, and sexual violence persist. Yet explicit condemnation of India is conspicuously muted. In Palestine, where the humanitarian catastrophe since October 2023 has claimed tens of thousands of civilian lives, including over 21-000 children, the moral clarity displayed toward Pakistan’s domestic policies appears diluted. While the AJC has hosted discussions on IIOJK and Palestine as humanitarian crises, it has refrained from directly censuring India and Israel in unequivocal terms. Conversely, the deportation of undocumented Afghan refugees has drawn direct condemnation of the Pakistani state.

The April 2024 episode involving then German Ambassador Alfred Grannas further exposed contradictions. A young participant who attempted to raise concerns about Gaza reportedly faced a shut-up response, triggering nationwide criticism. In 2026, the irony deepened when a conference themed around “Freedom of Expression” and “Human Rights” witnessed another instance of a participant being removed for highlighting Israel’s actions in Gaza. The optics were unmistakable: a forum professing open dialogue appeared intolerant of dissenting voices that challenged dominant narratives within its own halls.

Questions surrounding financial transparency remain unresolved. Despite operating on a significant scale, the AJC has not publicly disclosed audited funding sources. In an era of hybrid warfare and information manipulation, such opacity inevitably strengthens suspicions of international actors seeking to destabilise Pakistan through internal agitation and external proxies.

The controversy reached a crescendo when Akhtar Jan Mengal was invited to address the conference and reportedly spoke about the separation of Balochistan. Mengal, a political leader of Balochistan National Party (BNP) registered with the Election Commission of Pakistan, has long leveraged the missing persons issue and anti-state rhetoric for political capital. That such secessionist discourse was delivered from the AJC stage— and met with applause from sections of an audience that included legal professionals— was nothing short of astonishing. 

Civil society forums ought to contribute solutions to Pakistan’s complex challenges, not exacerbate them. When discussions drift into legitimising separatist thought or eroding confidence in state institutions without acknowledging external aggression and terrorism, they cease to be constructive and become corrosive.

A sovereign state cannot afford selective accountability. Would a similar conference, convened in Balochistan by Baloch, in Sindh by Sindhi residents, or in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa by Pashtun, receive identical latitude if it broached separation? The silence of state institutions in the face of such provocations raises legitimate concerns about double standards and elitist impunity.

Pakistan’s sovereignty is sacrosanct. Constitutional order is non-negotiable. Those who platform, endorse, or applaud rhetoric that undermines the federation must be held accountable within the ambit of law. Akhtar Jan Mengal and any individual who transgresses constitutional boundaries should face legal scrutiny, not as an act of repression but as a safeguard for unity and stability.

The future of Pakistan depends on cohesion, institutional respect, and an uncompromising stance against terrorism and secessionism. Human rights advocacy must be principled, not partisan; balanced, not selective. Until the Asma Jahangir Conference aligns itself unequivocally with Pakistan’s sovereignty and constitutional integrity, it will remain emblematic not of reform, but of a narrative that risks eroding the very state whose freedoms it purports to defend.