The tragic killing of Bano Bibi, reportedly on the orders of a jirga in Balochistan, has once again accentuated Pakistan’s ongoing struggle with the plague of so-called “honour killings.” Her alleged crime: choosing her own partner. Her punishment: death at the hands of her brother. Her story, though heartbreaking, is hardly unique in a country where tradition, patriarchy, and legal ambiguity still provide cover for premeditated murder.
Honour killings—committed under the pretext of restoring family “honour” tarnished by perceived immoral behaviour, usually by women—persist despite being criminalised by the state. In 2016, following international and domestic outrage sparked after the murder of social media activist Qandeel Baloch, Pakistan amended its Penal Code through the Criminal Law (Amendment) (Offences in the Name or Pretext of Honour) Act, aiming to close the long-standing legal loophole that allowed perpetrators to walk free after being pardoned by the victim's family. Under the amendment, the state is now empowered to pursue prosecution even if a pardon is granted to the accused by the victim's family.
However, in practice, these protections outlined in the Act are often bypassed. The case of Qandeel Baloch—a social media star murdered by her brother in 2016—remains a glaring example. Despite her brother’s confession, the Lahore High Court let him off the charges based on a compromise effected between the accused and his family. The court held it was not an honour killing, despite overwhelming evidence. The legal reform exists, but so do judicial biases. The courts continue to show leniency to men who murder in the name of honour.
Sermons and public statements should unequivocally denounce honour killings as un-Islamic and unlawful
Beyond legal shortcomings, societal and cultural dynamics continue to embolden perpetrators. In many rural and even urban parts of Pakistan, male-dominated jirgas and panchayats not only endorse honour killings but also actively pressure families to uphold these violent codes of behaviour. Women are seen not as individuals with agency but as custodians of familial honour. Religious rhetoric is sometimes invoked—not by divine scripture, but by its misinterpretation by a few radical religious elements—to justify patriarchal control and brutal violence.
It is important to clarify: Islam strictly opposes all forms of violence, including honour killings. The Quran and Hadith strictly prohibit unlawful killing. As the Quran says, “Whoever kills a person unjustly, it is as if he had killed all mankind. And whoever saves a life, it is as if he had saved all mankind.” Lending any justification for honour killings is a distortion of religious teaching. Yet the lack of widespread religious condemnation from clerical circles allows cultural norms to masquerade as faith-based imperatives. The state’s failure to regulate this narrative continues to blur the lines between faith and feudalism.
Law enforcement also plays a complicity-by-neglect role. Police often show reluctance in registering FIRs and conducting a proper course of investigation. Prosecution is frequently half-hearted in pursuing honour killing cases, making conviction of the accused unlikely. Witnesses—who are often the victim's family members—are rare, either intimidated into silence or convinced that honour justified the act. Consequently, conviction rates remain abysmally low.
What is needed is a multi-pronged strategy. First, the gaps in the law must be addressed. The state must prosecute cases even when families do not come forward. Second, judicial training and police sensitisation programmes must be institutionalised to ensure such crimes are investigated and prosecuted with urgency and impartiality. Third, the state must partner with civil society and media to launch awareness campaigns that challenge the cultural glorification of male “honour” and reframe such killings as cowardly, not courageous.
Moreover, religious leaders must step up. Sermons and public statements should unequivocally denounce honour killings as un-Islamic and unlawful. In a society where religious authority shapes public opinion, such declarations could play a pivotal role in deconstructing toxic traditions.
The killing of Bano Bibi—and countless others before and after her—demands more than fleeting outrage. It requires a consistent and courageous commitment to reform. Honour cannot be found in bloodshed. It resides in justice, dignity, and the courage to break cycles of silence and complicity.