- By: Barrister Usman Ali (Ph.D.)
Pakistan is a country where history repeats itself with remarkable speed and unsettling regularity. This pattern is visible across many spheres of national life, but nowhere more persistently than in politics and the judiciary. Old controversies resurface in new guises, familiar constitutional questions reappear with renewed urgency, and crises that should have settled legal principles instead demand fresh adjudication. In such a cycle, certain landmark judicial decisions acquire enduring relevance, offering guidance long after the immediate moment has passed. The Supreme Court’s judgment in the Faizabad Sit-in case (2017) is one such decision, one that remains as applicable today as it was at the time of its pronouncement.
The Faizabad sit-in of November 2017 began as a protest over changes to the electoral oath but soon escalated into a prolonged blockade of Islamabad and Rawalpindi. For weeks, major arteries of the twin cities remained shut, paralysing economic activity and disrupting daily life. Schools were closed, businesses suffered losses, patients were unable to reach hospitals, and citizens were effectively deprived of their freedom of movement. Despite the scale of the disruption, the state appeared hesitant and uncertain, struggling to enforce its writ. The crisis ultimately ended through a negotiated agreement that raised troubling constitutional questions, particularly regarding the role of unelected institutions.
It was against this backdrop that the Supreme Court took suo motu notice of the situation. The judgment, authored by Justice Qazi Faez Isa, went far beyond the immediate facts of the sit-in. It addressed foundational issues of constitutional governance, civil liberties, and institutional boundaries. Central to the Court’s reasoning was the reaffirmation that fundamental rights are not absolute. While the Constitution guarantees freedoms of speech, assembly, and association, these rights are subject to reasonable restrictions, especially where their exercise infringes upon the rights of others.
Justice Isa emphasized that no individual or group has the constitutional right to bring the life of an entire city to a standstill. Protest, however legitimate its cause, cannot become a means of coercion. The judgment rejected the notion that street power can override constitutional order, clarifying that dissent is protected, but disorder is not. In a democratic system governed by law, the state has a duty not only to tolerate protest but also to regulate it so that the rights of all citizens are preserved.
Equally significant was the judgment’s forthright examination of the role of state institutions, particularly intelligence agencies and the military. Justice Isa made it unequivocally clear that Pakistan’s Constitution does not permit military or intelligence institutions to engage in political activity, directly or indirectly. Their mandate is limited, defined, and subordinate to civilian authority. Any involvement in political processes, whether through facilitation, mediation beyond lawful authority, or influence over outcomes, was declared unconstitutional. In Pakistan’s particular political and institutional context, such a forthright articulation of constitutional limits could only have come from a judge of exceptional independence and judicial courage, such as Justice Qazi Faez Isa.
This aspect of the verdict marked a rare moment of judicial clarity in Pakistan’s constitutional history. Without resorting to rhetoric or speculation, the Court relied on constitutional text and established principles to draw firm institutional boundaries. It reminded all state organs that legitimacy flows from adherence to the Constitution, not from expediency or short-term stability. Actions taken outside constitutional limits, even if justified as necessary or pragmatic, ultimately weaken democratic accountability and civilian supremacy.
The judgment also exposed widespread failures of governance. It questioned the inaction of federal and provincial governments, the reluctance of law-enforcement agencies to enforce court orders, and the regulatory lapses that allowed hate speech and incendiary content to proliferate unchecked. Rather than isolating blame, the Court highlighted how constitutional breakdowns are often the result of collective institutional failure.
A defining strength of the verdict was its insistence on accountability without exception. The Court rejected selective enforcement of constitutional norms and underscored that no institution, however powerful, stands above the Constitution. Accountability, it suggested, is not an act of confrontation but a constitutional obligation.
The Faizabad sit-in case also occupies an important place in Pakistan’s jurisprudence on civil-military relations. Unlike many earlier decisions that avoided explicit engagement with institutional roles, this judgment articulated civilian supremacy as a legal mandate rather than a political aspiration. It reaffirmed that the armed forces’ strength lies in constitutional restraint, not political involvement.
Beyond institutional questions, the case revealed a deeper malaise: the state’s apparent loss of confidence in its own authority. The willingness to negotiate with those openly violating the law, instead of enforcing legal orders, signalled a dangerous normalization of impunity. The judgment warned that when governments surrender enforcement to informal power centres, they undermine the rule of law and weaken the constitutional order itself.
Years later, the relevance of the Faizabad sit-in judgment has only intensified. Similar episodes of protest, paralysis, and institutional ambiguity continue to recur with disturbing familiarity. The judgment endures because it speaks not merely to a single protest, but to a recurring national dilemma. It offers constitutional answers to questions Pakistan continues to ask but rarely acts upon.
In a country where crises repeat themselves with minor variations, the Faizabad judgment stands as a reminder that the solutions already exist within the Constitution. What remains uncertain is not the clarity of the law, but the collective will to uphold it.