In a harrowing reminder of parallel systems of justice in Pakistan, a young couple — Banu and Ehsan — were executed in cold blood by a tribal jirga in a remote region of Baluchistan. Their only crime: choosing to marry out of love, defying the traditional norms of their community. The sentence was death by firing squad — an archaic form of “justice” administered not by a court of law, but by the unwritten codes of tribal honour.
This tragic incident reopens the long-standing debate about the writ of the state versus the writ of tribal traditions. The rule of law, enshrined in the Constitution of Pakistan, is undermined when extrajudicial tribal jirgas are allowed to function as shadow courts. While customary law holds a certain cultural relevance, its violent and patriarchal applications — particularly in cases of honour — are incompatible with human rights and modern justice.
At the heart of honour killings, revenge rapes, and historical practices like sati lies a single, deeply entrenched distortion: the objectification of women. In patriarchal societies across the world — from South Asia to the Balkans and even parts of the Middle East — a woman is not regarded as an autonomous being, but as a vessel of male honour, tribal pride, or national humiliation. Her choices, body, and life are commodified, politicised, and often sacrificed at the altar of collective ego.
In the tribal belts of Pakistan and Afghanistan, a woman’s decision to marry out of love becomes a declaration of war against the tribe’s authority. Her murder is seen not as a crime, but as a restoration of ghairat. In war zones like Bosnia or, more recently, Palestine, rape is employed as a weapon — not just against the individual woman, but against her entire community, as a tool to desecrate the “honour” of her people.
The ancient Indian practice of sati, where widows were burned or buried alive with their deceased husbands, was justified by the grotesque belief that a woman’s physical existence had no meaning outside of her husband’s life. Even when banned by rulers like Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb and later the British Raj, some communities continued to practise it — not out of faith, but out of fear that a widow’s existence posed a moral risk to the community.
Whether it is a tribal firing squad in Baluchistan, a Hindu funeral pyre in Rajasthan, or a Serbian soldier in a Bosnian rape camp — the logic is disturbingly consistent: the woman is not human; she is symbolic. Her life is less important than the reputation she represents.
This mindset is the root of violence — and unless dismantled, no law, reform, or policy can truly end the cycle of gender-based atrocities. We must begin by restoring the humanity of women — recognising them not as bearers of honour or shame, but as individuals with rights, will, dignity, and dreams.
Cultural justifications for such violence must no longer be tolerated. It is not honour; it is misogyny wrapped in tradition. And this mindset, more than the weapons or the courts, must be confronted — in our homes, our schools, our mosques, our jirgas, and our parliaments.
Honour killings are not confined to Pakistan. They occur in India, Iran, Afghanistan, and even in Western countries such as the United Kingdom, where naturalised South Asian citizens have brought these regressive practices with them. The underlying premise remains the same: that women’s choices — particularly in matters of marriage — must conform to patriarchal authority or be met with fatal consequences.
In Pakistan’s semi-settled and tribal regions — such as parts of Baluchistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa — state institutions often turn a blind eye to tribal verdicts. These regions are plagued by a legal vacuum, where the line between customary law and constitutional law is blurred. The enforcement of the rule of law remains weak, often overridden by centuries-old tribal codes.
This dual system of justice not only delegitimises the state but also puts vulnerable individuals — especially women — in grave danger. The state must make a decisive choice: either continue to tolerate a system of selective legality, or reinforce a universal justice system that defends the rights of all citizens, irrespective of geography or tribe.
India, facing similar challenges, has taken certain proactive steps against honour killings:
Fast-track courts: Special courts have been set up to swiftly prosecute honour crimes, minimising the possibility of community pressure or out-of-court settlements.
Legal protection for adult couples: In states like Haryana and Punjab — notorious for honour killings — the judiciary has directed local police to provide protection to couples who fear familial violence.
Village-level awareness campaigns: NGOs and women’s groups conduct door-to-door awareness programmes to change mindsets around honour and marriage.
Pakistan can learn from these initiatives, tailoring them to its own social and cultural landscape.
Concrete Steps Forward for Pakistan:
Empower Local Justice Officials: Appoint Family Qazis or Justices of Peace in tribal regions — especially women — trained in Islamic jurisprudence and constitutional law to act as mediators and protectors of adult couples seeking marriage rights.
Legal Protection Units (LPUs): Set up LPUs at the district level that offer legal counselling, protective custody, and shelter to at-risk couples. These units must be run by civil servants with authority and security support.
Community Whistleblowers & Vigilant Citizens’ Networks: Form networks of civil society activists, teachers, and local journalists to serve as early warning systems, alerting authorities before tribal “verdicts” are executed.
Shelter Homes for Men and Women: Expand state-supported Dar-ul-Aman institutions and introduce safe houses for both women and men who flee from tribal vengeance. These must be discreet, well-funded, and protected by court orders.
Digital Reporting Portals: In collaboration with civil society, create an anonymous online portal where potential victims or concerned citizens can report threats of honour killings.
Criminalisation of Jirga Verdicts: The state must make it clear through legislation that jirgas passing death sentences are engaging in criminal conspiracy. There must be accountability — including for tribal elders who enable such rulings.
The case of Banu and Ehsan is not just a tragedy — it is an indictment. The state cannot afford to tolerate two parallel systems of justice. Tribal customs that end in murder cannot be romanticised as heritage. The Constitution must reign supreme in all corners of the country.
As a society, we must confront the dark side of ghairat, and stop sanctifying cruelty under the banner of culture. Women and men must be seen as full legal persons — not vessels of honour or shame.
It is time we honoured love, life, and choice — rather than executing them in the name of tradition.
The writer is a former ambassador and Director Global and Regional Studies Center at IOBM University Karachi.
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