Justice does not fail in Pakistan because laws are absent; it fails because those expected to uphold truth are left unprotected by the very system that summons them. Behind many acquittals lies not legal ambiguity but silence; the silence of witnesses who once spoke but later learned that honesty can carry consequences far beyond the courtroom. In a criminal justice system dependent on human testimony, fear has quietly become the strongest defence counsel.
Justice in any legal system depends not only on laws, judges, or lawyers, but on something far more fragile: courage. The courage of ordinary citizens who step forward to tell the truth. In Pakistan, however, that courage often comes at a devastating cost. Witnesses do not merely testify; they gamble with their safety, livelihoods, and sometimes their lives. The tragedy is not that witnesses are afraid. Fear is human. The tragedy is that the state has given them very little reason not to be.
Pakistan’s criminal justice system repeatedly collapses at one predictable point: witnesses turning hostile, retracting statements, or simply disappearing from proceedings. Courts frequently lament the absence of reliable testimony, prosecutors blame intimidation, and society interprets acquittals as proof of judicial weakness. The Supreme Court of Pakistan itself has, in multiple criminal appeals, observed that hostile witnesses and flawed investigations remain among the leading causes of acquittals. Yet real failure lies elsewhere. A justice system that cannot protect its witnesses cannot expect truth to survive inside a courtroom.
The problem is neither new nor unknown. From terrorism prosecutions following the Army Public School attack trials to sectarian violence cases heard in anti-terrorism courts, prosecutors have repeatedly struggled to sustain convictions once witnesses withdraw cooperation. Even in ordinary murder trials under the Pakistan Penal Code, witnesses frequently resile from earlier statements recorded under Section 161 of the Criminal Procedure Code. Sometimes they cite fading memories; sometimes they refuse to identify the accused altogether. Behind these legal formalities often lies a quieter reality involving threats, coercion, social pressure, or financial vulnerability.
The tragedy is not that witnesses are afraid, but that the state has given them very little reason not to be
Pakistan does possess witness protection laws on paper. Sindh enacted the Sindh Witness Protection Act in 2013, followed later by similar legislative efforts in Punjab. These laws promised anonymity, relocation, and security arrangements, particularly after heightened concerns during counterterrorism operations. Their passage reflected an acknowledgment that successful prosecution requires institutional protection. Yet legislation alone does not create safety. Implementation does.
Most protection schemes remain underfunded, bureaucratically slow, and rarely invoked. Police departments tasked with safeguarding witnesses often lack specialized training, technological resources, or independent oversight. In many instances, the same investigative agencies responsible for collecting testimony are also expected to provide protection, creating both practical and psychological barriers. For witnesses already wary of law enforcement due to investigative practices criticized in judicial observations, such arrangements inspire little confidence.
Equally significant is the social dimension of vulnerability. Witnesses in Pakistan are rarely anonymous participants in a case; they belong to closely knit communities where identities quickly become known. Relocation mechanisms remain limited, temporary, and administratively complex. Economic assistance, a central component of successful witness protection models internationally, is almost entirely absent. As seen in numerous high profile criminal trials, financial dependency and social pressure often succeed where direct intimidation is unnecessary. When survival competes with civic duty, survival usually wins.
Court procedures themselves unintentionally worsen the problem. Endless adjournments prolong trials for years, a concern repeatedly highlighted in judicial pronouncements emphasizing speedy trial as a constitutional right under Article 10A. Witnesses must appear repeatedly, often encountering accused persons directly within court premises lacking adequate security arrangements. Each adjournment renews fear and exposure. Delayed justice does not merely frustrate victims; it exhausts witnesses into silence.
The consequences extend far beyond individual cases. When serious offenders secure acquittals due to compromised testimony, public confidence in the justice system erodes. The acquittal of accused persons in several high-profile cases has frequently triggered public outrage, not necessarily because courts erred legally, but because citizens perceived the system as incapable of protecting those who speak the truth. This perception fuels vigilantism, mob justice, and extrajudicial responses. Symptoms of a society are gradually losing faith in lawful accountability.
Reforming witness protection requires more than legislative symbolism. Pakistan must treat witness safety as a foundational pillar of criminal justice rather than an administrative afterthought. Independent protection authorities insulated from local political pressures are essential. Technological solutions, including video link testimony already permitted in limited circumstances, voice and facial distortion mechanisms, and secure digital evidence systems, can significantly reduce physical exposure. Financial assistance and psychological support must accompany legal safeguards, recognizing that witnesses are not merely evidentiary tools, but human beings navigating risk and trauma.
Equally important is cultural change within institutions. Prosecutors, investigators, and judges must prioritize witness dignity and safety throughout proceedings. Specialized courts for sensitive prosecutions, combined with strict enforcement of laws criminalizing witness intimidation, could help restore confidence. Without consistency in enforcement, legal guarantees remain symbolic promises rather than lived protections.
A justice system is ultimately measured not by the severity of its laws but by its ability to protect those who sustain it. Courts can interpret statutes, and governments can enact reforms, but without credible witness protection, accountability remains fragile. When citizens learn that silence offers greater safety than honesty, the rule of law slowly yields to fear. Strengthening witness protection, therefore, is not merely procedural reform. It is a test of whether the state can guarantee that truth itself is worth the risk of speaking.