A State Betrayed

The 27th Amendment rewrites Pakistan’s rules and hands its courts and army to the powerful few.

According to Santiago Canton, the ICJ Secretary General, the 27th amendment introduces changes that raise serious concern. He warns that these shifts could weaken the courts’ role in checking executive power and compromise the basic rights of people in Pakistan.

Parliament has created a new Federal Constitutional Court and moved many core powers from the Supreme Court to that new body, including original jurisdiction over constitutional disputes and the transfer of all pending constitutional appeals and suo motu cases to the FCC.

Pakistan is already facing deep political strain, and any move that reduces judicial independence will only intensify public mistrust. Legal experts warn that once constitutional checks grow weak, governments tend to stretch their authority further, often at the cost of civil liberties. This amendment also arrives at a time when civic space is shrinking and voices questioning state decisions face growing pressure. If these trends continue, ordinary citizens will lose their last reliable shield against abuse of power, leaving the justice system unable to protect those who need it most.

That change is not a technical tweak. The FCC will be staffed by judges chosen under an altered appointments regime that gives the executive far greater control. High court judges can be shifted between provinces on presidential orders after a JCP recommendation, and a judge who refuses transfer may be deemed retired. These rules strip judges of institutional independence and make transfers a political tool rather than an administrative measure.

Parliament also removed the Supreme Court’s suo motu powers by deleting Articles 184, 186 and 191A. That change closes a potent front of public accountability that ordinary citizens and bar bodies used to reach the top bench quickly. The new arrangement reorders courts so that constitutional review sits behind a court whose judges are more directly tied to the executive.

Article 243 of the Constitution has been rewritten to create a post of Chief of Defence Forces (CDF) to be held by the army chief. The amendment abolishes the Chairman Joint Chiefs (CJCSC) slot and concentrates command over the army, navy and air force under one figure. The move also creates a National Strategic Command for nuclear oversight, but crucially it locks the head of that command to appointments made in consultation with the army chief.

The bill grants five-star officers constitutional protections that are almost absolute. These officers keep rank and privileges for life and enjoy immunity from criminal prosecution that cannot be removed except by a two thirds parliamentary vote. That raises a stark inequality. Elected leaders remain removable by simple majority. The amendment gives permanent legal shelter to the uniformed elite and places civilian politicians at a structural disadvantage.

The personal fallout has been dramatic. Senior jurists reacted within hours. Two Supreme Court judges Justice Mansoor Ali Shah and Justice Athar Minallah tendered resignations in protest, calling the amendment a grave assault on the Constitution and saying they could not sit on a court reduced to a shadow of its former role. A senior member of the Law and Justice Commission and former Attorney General Advocate Makhdoom Ali Khan also resigned. These departures are not routine. They mark a collapse of faith inside institutions meant to protect rights and law.

The manner of passage deepens the injury. The amendment moved through the cabinet and both houses in fast and contested sittings. The Senate vote came amid an opposition boycott and the National Assembly approved the bill by the numbers the ruling coalition mustered. Critics point to a lack of sincere debate, to rushed drafting and to last minute textual changes that favour continuity of political control rather than consensus rebuilding.

A particularly alarming detail in the file is the clause that secures the army chief’s position for an extended period. The record notes that Field Marshal Asim Munir will remain army chief and Chief of Defence Forces until 2030, a change that would make him the longest serving army chief without formal martial law. That is not symbolism. It is constitutional entrenchment of a single person’s dominance.

The political and social reaction has been mixed, but a strong current of alarm runs through lawyers civil society and parts of the public. International commentators and regional observers described the move as a major erosion of civilian control. Grassroots hashtags and street protests capture a sense of betrayal and fear that the formal rules of the republic have been rewritten to favour the khaki order.

Defenders argue the amendment unclogs court backlogs and modernises military coordination. They say a specialised FCC will speed constitutional adjudication and that a single defence chief can improve strategic command. Those arguments matter on paper, but they do not explain or justify the permanent legal shields and the transfer of appointment power from neutral bodies to political ones. The speed and balance of the reforms matter as much as their technical claims.

So where does Pakistan go from here? The amendment alters the field but it does not erase civic memory or legal debate. Courts that survive the political pressure can still interpret the text. Bar associations and civil rights groups can press cases that test the limits of immunity and transfer powers. Political parties and citizens can use every lawful tool to restore balance. The road will be long and fraught, but institutions are not dead unless everyone gives up.

In conclusion the 27th Amendment is a turning point. It rewrites the balance between people courts and the uniform. It makes impunity structural and places lasting authority in hands that answer first to the uniform not the ballot. That is the substance of the grievance judges lawyers and citizens now voice. If Pakistan is to survive as a republic governed by law the response must be calm smart and constitutional, not only loud. The work of repair must begin now.

Syed Salman Mehdi is a freelance writer and researcher with a keen interest in social, political, and human rights issues. He has written extensively on topics related to sectarian violence, governance, and minority rights, with a particular focus on South Asia. His work has been published in various media outlets, and he is passionate about raising awareness on critical human rights concerns. Read other articles by Syed.