Gavel or Shackle?

In 2012, the world watched as Pakistan’s Supreme Court convicted former Prime Minister Yusuf Raza Gilani of contempt of court. His offense was refusing to reopen corruption cases against the sitting president, a decision that led to a symbolic punishment of brief detention in the courtroom. While the judiciary hailed it as a triumph of legal authority, critics saw a darker motive: the use of contempt laws as a weapon to settle political scores.

This case ignited a debate that persists today—are contempt laws in Pakistan a shield for judicial integrity or a shackle on political freedom? Contempt of court is designed to protect the judiciary’s ability to function. It covers actions like disobeying court orders, disrupting proceedings, or making statements that undermine public confidence in the legal system. In Pakistan, this power stems from Article 204 of the Constitution, which authorizes superior courts to punish contempt, and the Contempt of Court Ordinance 2003, currently in effect after the 2012 Contempt of Court Act was struck down as unconstitutional.



The ordinance defines contempt broadly, encompassing acts that “scandalize a judge” or “lower the authority of a court”—language that leaves ample room for interpretation. Labour colonies’ issues to be resolved soon: PA speaker Yet, it is this breadth that has sparked concerns about misuse. Far from being a neutral tool, contempt laws in Pakistan are increasingly seen as a means to silence dissent, particularly among political figures and the media.

The Gilani case, unfolding amid tensions between the judiciary and the government, is often cited as an early example of this trend. The Supreme Court’s insistence on pursuing corruption cases against a sitting president, and its subsequent contempt ruling against Gilani, was perceived by many as a judicial overreach into political territory. This pattern has repeated itself.

In 2018, Talal Chaudhry, a politician from the Pakistan Muslim League (N), was convicted of contempt for speeches deemed disrespectful to the judiciary. He faced imprisonment until the court adjourned and a fine. In 2022, former Prime Minister Imran Khan narrowly escaped a contempt conviction after apologizing for a speech accused of threatening judicial officials.

And in 2023, the High Court in Azad Kashmir disqualified former Prime Minister Sardar Tanveer Ilyas from the legislative assembly on contempt grounds. These cases disproportionately involve political actors, raising questions about whether the laws target those who challenge the establishment. 108-kanal state land retrieved The media, too, has felt the sting of contempt proceedings.

In 2018, the Supreme Court banned a TV channel for airing a program considered contemptuous, a move that sent shockwaves through Pakistan’s press corps. The rise of social media has only amplified this trend. In 2020, the Islamabad High Court issued a contempt notice to a lawyer for criticizing a judge online, signaling that even private citizens are not immune.

Such actions cast a long shadow over freedom of expression, prompting journalists and commentators to self-censor rather than risk legal repercussions. At the heart of this issue lies a tension familiar to democracies worldwide: how to balance judicial authority with free speech. Courts need respect to enforce their rulings, but when contempt laws are used to punish criticism rather than direct interference, they can stifle legitimate discourse.

In contrast to Pakistan, some nations have recalibrated this balance. The United Kingdom, for example, abolished the offense of “scandalizing the court” in 2013, arguing that a modern judiciary should withstand public scrutiny. Pakistan’s contempt framework, rooted in colonial-era principles, lags behind such reforms, prioritizing judicial protection over individual rights.

Minister visits afternoon schools, inspects facilities The vagueness of Pakistan’s contempt laws exacerbates the problem. Terms like “scandalizing a judge” or “lowering the authority of a court” are subjective, allowing courts wide latitude to interpret them. Compounding this, superior courts can initiate contempt proceedings suo motu—on their own motion—without external oversight, a mechanism ripe for selective enforcement.

While the 2003 Ordinance offers limited defenses, such as “fair comment” on decided cases, these protections are narrow and do not cover ongoing matters or broader critiques of judicial conduct. The implications are stark. Politically, contempt laws can tilt the playing field by sidelining opponents or deterring challenges to judicial decisions that intersect with governance.

For the media, the threat of contempt chills reporting on legal affairs, undermining the press’s role as a democratic watchdog. For citizens, the laws foster a climate of fear, where even mild criticism of the judiciary could invite punishment. This dynamic is particularly troubling in Pakistan, where the judiciary has historically played a prominent role in political upheavals, from validating military coups to clashing with elected governments.

Multan commissioner inspects public welfare, development projects Yet, contempt laws are not without purpose. Courts must enforce their orders and maintain order in proceedings. A judge’s ability to command compliance is essential to the rule of law.

The problem in Pakistan lies not in the existence of contempt powers but in their application—too often, they seem to shield judicial pride rather than justice itself. A judiciary confident in its legitimacy should not need to rely on such laws to fend off criticism. Reform is urgently needed to restore balance.

One step could be narrowing the scope of contempt to focus on tangible disruptions—like disobeying court orders—rather than speech that merely offends. Clearer definitions and higher thresholds for what constitutes contempt could curb subjective rulings. Procedurally, requiring an independent body to approve contempt proceedings might prevent arbitrary use.

Beyond this, fostering judicial accountability through transparent disciplinary processes could lessen the need to invoke contempt as a catch-all defense of judicial honor. No compromise on implementation of law: FDA The stakes are high. When contempt laws are perceived as tools of political manipulation, they erode trust in the judiciary, an institution meant to uphold justice, not power.

When they silence voices—whether of politicians, journalists, or citizens—they weaken democracy itself. Pakistan stands at a crossroads: will its contempt laws remain a gavel of justice or a shackle on freedom? Reform offers a path forward. By aligning its laws with modern democratic standards, Pakistan can ensure its judiciary is respected not out of fear but for its integrity.

Until then, the question lingers: whose interests do these laws truly serve? Bina Shahid The writer is an advocate and social scientist. She posts on LinkedIn @Bina Shahid, X: @faraz_bina, and can be reached at binashahid21 @gmail.com Tags: gavel shackle.