PUBLISHED
August 31, 2025
KARACHI:
In 2016, I authored the report Terrorism Prosecution in Pakistan (open-source, accessible via Academia and ResearchGate), which critically examined Pakistan’s anti-terrorism prosecution system through an empirical review of Anti-Terrorism Courts (ATCs) judgments and focus group discussions with police, prosecutors, and judges. That study highlighted systemic flaws: over-reliance on eyewitness testimony, neglect of forensic evidence, proliferation of tangential litigation, weak case management, and the pervasive “fear factor” discouraging witnesses from testifying.
Nearly a decade later, Pakistan has traversed a turbulent trajectory in its fight against terrorism. While large-scale military operations after 2013 displaced militant groups from the tribal areas into Afghanistan and temporarily reduced attacks, recent years — especially post-2021 — have witnessed a steady resurgence of terrorist incidents, particularly in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP) and Balochistan. As I ponder writing a follow-up to the 2016 study, against this backdrop, it is crucial to ask: has terrorism prosecution through the rule of law kept pace with the changing threat?
Case flows and regional variations
When I wrote the first report, I expected that the heavy case backlog in ATCs would begin to ease as terrorism incidents declined after 2013. Indeed, Punjab and Sindh saw a significant reduction in attacks, and one might have anticipated a corresponding decrease in ATC caseloads in those provinces. Yet in KP and Balochistan — frontline regions where attacks have again been rising especially since 2021 — the flow of cases may be increasing once more. The key question is whether ATCs in these provinces have rationalized case management, or whether they remain overburdened as they were when first examined in 2016?
Back then, my report found that KP ATCs were already struggling with the aftermath of the Swat insurgency, carrying a heavy backlog of cases dating from 2007 onwards. Judges often granted repeated adjournments, investigations were weak, and prosecutors lacked the tools to withstand intimidation. Although the province was formally rationalizing case flows (for example, by clustering terrorism cases in certain ATCs), the sheer number of residual cases combined with witness fear meant acquittals remained the norm.
Balochistan presented a slightly different challenge even in 2016. My first study observed that while Punjab and Sindh were often clogged with tangential litigation, (ordinary violent crimes framed under terrorism charges) in Balochistan the problem were genuine terrorism cases piling up, without resolution. Witnesses were far fewer, prosecutions weaker, and the intimidation factor even greater, because insurgent and sectarian groups wielded more direct control over communities.
If we compare that baseline with today’s rising wave of terrorism in KP and Balochistan, several questions emerge: –
Has KP’s rationalization experiment endured? Or have new spikes in violence post-2021 overwhelmed ATCs again, reversing whatever gains were made in backlog reduction after the Swat crisis?
Is Balochistan still seeing primarily ‘real terrorism’ cases in ATCs, and if so, are conviction rates still as low as they were, when the first report highlighted pervasive acquittals due to fear and poor evidence?
Have the systemic issues flagged in 2016 — over-reliance on ocular evidence, intimidation of witnesses, tangential case inflows, weak forensics — been meaningfully addressed in these provinces, or are courts reliving the same cycle of overburden and collapse?
This raises a critical set of questions for provinces relatively less affected by terrorism for a follow-up study, i.e. how have declining caseloads affected the functioning of ATCs in Punjab and Sindh?
Has the relative breathing space created by lower case inflows given the judicial system an opportunity to reinvent itself, to experiment with stronger evidence standards, and to adapt procedures to the evolving nature of terrorist threats?
Things may look better in Punjab compared to KP or Balochistan — but is this relative stability producing ripple effects and spillover benefits across the wider criminal justice system, strengthening prosecutors, police, and judges beyond just terrorism cases?
In short, while Punjab’s reduced caseloads might provide space for procedural innovation, KP and Balochistan are once again testing whether Pakistan’s criminal justice system has learned the lessons highlighted in the 2016 report — or whether the weaknesses then diagnosed being replicated in today’s more complex security landscape. Even more important, are all the Anti- Terrorism Courts in the country learning lessons from each other?
‘Tangential’ Cases
My first report found that ATCs were clogged with non-terrorism cases — kidnapping for ransom, extortion, violent crimes — often prosecuted under terrorism charges, despite lacking any nexus with organized militancy. This tangential litigation drained time and resources from ‘genuine’ terrorism prosecutions.
In my 2016 report, one of the most striking findings was that ATCs were being misused as catch-all forums for ordinary violent crimes. Offences such as kidnapping for ransom, extortion, land disputes, honor killings, even violent protests and acid attacks, were frequently prosecuted under Section 7 of the Anti-Terrorism Act(ATA), despite lacking any direct nexus with organized militancy or terrorism.
This practice created two critical distortions. The first was by overburdening of ATCs: by diverting large volumes of ordinary violent crime into ATCs, the system clogged itself, delaying the very ‘fast-track’ terrorism cases for which the courts were created.
Secondly, higher acquittal ratios resulted from this backlog. Since ATCs apply a much higher evidentiary burden than ordinary courts (proof beyond shadow of doubt, rather than balance of probabilities) many of these ‘non-terrorism’ cases also ended in acquittals, frustrating both justice and deterrence.
A follow-up empirical study would need to test whether this under-utilization of ATCs has decreased. Probable outcomes suggest three possible scenarios: –
Continuation of Tangential Litigation- Police and local administrations may still prefer to apply Section 7 ATA as a tool of expediency, both because it carries heavier punishments and because it makes bail harder to secure. If this continues, ATCs will remain clogged with non-terrorism disputes, undermining their credibility and limiting their ability to handle genuine terrorism cases effectively.
Partial Rationalization- In provinces like Punjab, where terrorism incidents declined significantly after 2013, and to some extent in KP, reduced inflows of ‘real terrorism’ cases may have created breathing space for ATCs. If prosecutors and judges have used this space to sift out tangential cases and re-channel them to sessions courts, ATCs may have started to re-focus on core terrorism trials. This would reflect an improvement.
Reversal under rising violence- In KP and Balochistan, where terrorism has resurged since 2021, the temptation to label ordinary violent crime as terrorism may be increasing again. This allows authorities to signal toughness, but at the cost of repeating the cycle of 2016: clogged ATCs, poor case management, and acquittals.
If tangential litigation continues unchecked, conviction rates will remain lower. Genuine terrorism cases will slip through the cracks as courts drown in unrelated disputes. Public trust in ATCs will erode as communities will view them as politicized instruments rather than specialized forums for counter-terrorism.
Furthermore, resource misallocation will persist. Forensics, witness protection, and prosecutorial energy will be wasted on cases that could have been disposed of in regular sessions courts.
Last but not the least, backlogs will rise disproportionately in conflict provinces. KP and Balochistan will see ATCs once again overwhelmed by both real terrorism and misclassified cases, leading to systemic paralysis.
On the other hand, if rationalization has gained traction, and there were signs that case flow management was being emphasized even in 2016, then specialization will have improved. ATCs would be finally focusing on core terrorism cases, building expertise and consistency in rulings. The ripple effects may have spread, as improved case management in ATCs could have pushed police and prosecutors to refine charging practices, indirectly strengthening the wider criminal justice system.
Importantly, conviction ratios might have improved significantly. With fewer tangential cases and clearer evidentiary focus, prosecutors may be presenting stronger files and securing more convictions in genuine terrorism cases.
The future of terrorism prosecution in Pakistan may hinge less on drafting new laws — the ATA has already been amended repeatedly — and more on jurisdictional discipline. If ATCs remain overrun with tangential cases, history will repeat itself: clogged dockets, weak prosecutions, and systemic failure. If, however, provinces can enforce a tight filter on what qualifies as “terrorism” under Section 7 ATA, then ATCs may have already evolved, or might yet evolve into the specialized courts they were originally intended to be.
Forensic and modern evidence
In my 2016 report, I documented how Pakistan’s criminal justice system overwhelmingly relied on ocular testimony, with forensic evidence serving at best as a supplementary tool. The typical pattern was that police “created” witnesses to patch evidentiary gaps, while forensic reports — chemical examiner certificates, ballistics, or post-mortems — were treated as peripheral add-ons rather than central proof.
Even the establishment of the Punjab Forensic Science Agency (PFSA) — a landmark institution by regional standards — had not shifted courtroom culture. Judges often preferred witness testimony, prosecutors rarely used forensic findings proactively, and defence lawyers were the ones exploiting forensic reports to create doubt. The result, as my first report showed, was a system structurally biased toward witness fabrication and systemic acquittals.
Nearly a decade later, Pakistan stands at a crossroads. Three possible trajectories emerge for the use of forensic science in terrorism prosecutions: –
Status Quo Persistence- If court culture has not shifted still; forensic reports will remain a ‘decorative’ supplement rather than decisive evidence. Police will continue defaulting to creating eyewitnesses, and ATCs will keep acquitting on the basis of contradictions in testimony. This would mean that, despite billions invested in forensic labs, the eyewitness based, acquittal-heavy pattern noted in 2016 will persist.
Gradual Integration of Forensics- In provinces like Punjab, where PFSA is established and case inflows may have declined, ATCs may finally begin relying more substantively on DNA, ballistics, digital evidence, and crime scene analysis. If prosecutors have received sustained training, and if courts have started to demand scientific corroboration, forensics could have slowly moved from a supporting role to a co-equal evidentiary stream alongside testimony. This could have improved conviction ratios in genuine terrorism cases, and reduced dependence on vulnerable or hostile witnesses.
Transformational Shift- If Pakistan’s Fair Trial Act (allowing admissibility of intercept and surveillance evidence) has been operationalized in tandem with forensic science, Pakistan’s ATCs could have already made the leap from witness-driven trials to intelligence admissible and science-driven trials.
Forensic and intelligence-based prosecutions would have already lessened the crippling impact of fear on witnesses — a central weakness identified in 2016. Such a shift would not only have modernized terrorism prosecution but would have also rippled outward, strengthening ordinary criminal justice by embedding forensic reliance as a norm.
The real challenge is not infrastructure — forensic facilities exist — but judicial and prosecutorial culture. Till around 2016, judges often dismissed forensic findings as secondary, while prosecutors lacked the confidence or skill to build cases around them. Unless the courts are re-oriented to place weight on scientific evidence, Pakistan risks repeating the past: laboratories producing reports that gather dust, while trials continue to revolve around fallible or fabricated witnesses.
If nothing changes, ATCs in 2030 may look much as they did in 2016: clogged, dependent on discredited testimony, with conviction rates hovering on lower side. But if courts and prosecutors shift or have already shifted toward forensic-anchored prosecutions, Pakistan could finally address one of the structural weaknesses diagnosed in the first report — and move or be moving towards a system where the science of crime replaces the artifice of manufactured witnesses.
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The Fair Trial Act aimed to make intelligence-derived evidence (intercepts, surveillance, human intelligence) admissible in ATCs. In 2016, however, such evidence had yet to surface meaningfully in prosecutions. A critical part of any follow-up study would be to determine whether intelligence evidence is now admitted and relied upon in terrorism cases, or whether Pakistan’s ATCs still ignore this vital evidentiary stream?
Witness protection and the fear factor
The report identified fear as the single most corrosive factor in terrorism prosecutions — witnesses routinely turned hostile, resiled, or refused to testify due to intimidation. Although Section 21 of ATA provides for anonymity and witness protection, it was never widely operationalized. The question for this follow-up is whether subsequent witness protection initiatives (federal and provincial) have had any impact, and whether more witnesses are now willing to depose in ATCs?
Federal Level- Pakistan enacted The Witness Protection, Security and Benefit Act, 2017, aiming to provide anonymity, relocation, identity change, and protection for witnesses in heinous and terrorism-related cases. However, implementation has been weak nationwide. Reports(anecdotal) highlight that federal and provincial schemes ‘have performed poorly due to lack of proper implementation’.
Provincial Legislation- Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP) passed the KP Witness Protection Act, 2021, which establishes a Witness Protection Board and Unit. Its provisions allow for anonymity, safe housing, identity change, video link testimony, restricted courtroom entry, and protection orders covering witnesses in terrorism and other heinous cases.
Punjab enacted the Punjab Witness Protection Act, 2018, also establishing similar protections for witnesses in terrorism and serious criminal cases—such as prohibiting cross-examination by the accused, and mechanisms for anonymity and protective orders.
However, if despite these legal instruments, if implementation has remained merely aspirational, the reasons may not require even too much brainstorming; the usual ‘suspects’ would be there to hinder implementation. I can make an ‘uneducated’ guess and be correct on all accounts. Typically, these would be; provincial systems lack resources, lack of public awareness, operational capacity, and institutional coordination—hindering real-world protective outcomes.
If there has been significant difference made, it might be unevenly distributed. KP and Punjab now have adequate legal frameworks in place. Yet, effectiveness might remain limited due to resource gaps and weak execution, even more when Balochistan is compared to Punjab and KP. Witness trust in the system most likely remains fragile—compliance and willingness to testify may not have improved notably, without visible success stories.
However, if operational witness protection—via anonymity, relocation, and secure testimony (e.g. through video link)—has somehow significantly reduced witness turnarounds and bolstered conviction rates, even partial improvements in KP or Punjab could have created tremendous spillover benefits. This might have encouraged police, prosecutors, and judges to rely more on testimonial evidence, reinforced by protective guarantees.
Successfully implemented, witness protection could be on the way to becoming a model for broader criminal justice reform—strengthening investigative credibility, enabling more robust prosecutions, and narrowing reliance on coerced or fabricated testimony.
Whether all this has happened, substantive research will tell, in the years to come.
Police and prosecution reforms
By 2016, police investigation remained weak, marked by poor forensic collection, defective FIRs, and over-reliance on ‘padding’ cases with dubious witnesses. Prosecutors often adopted a laissez-faire attitude, while courts dismissed cases perfunctorily. Since then, there has been investment in Counter Terrorism Departments(CTDs), training, and induction of graduates as corporals into counter terrorism investigation cadres. Any follow-up study might empirically test whether these reforms have translated into stronger prosecutions, or whether the systemic weaknesses identified in 2016 persist?
When I wrote the first report in 2016, the picture of Pakistan’s terrorism prosecution system was not rosy. Investigations were weak and fragmented. Crime scenes were rarely processed scientifically, forensic evidence was perfunctorily collected, and FIRs were riddled with defects. Most tellingly, police officers routinely ‘padded’ cases with dubious or ‘created’ witnesses to cover gaps, knowing full well that prosecutors often turned a blind eye, or could not force cops to rectify defects in their cases.
Prosecution services themselves appeared to adopt a laissez-faire attitude, letting poorly built cases trickle into ATCs. Judges, confronted with contradictory testimonies and absent scientific support, usually dismissed these cases in perfunctory orders, adding to an already dismal conviction ratio.
In the years since, the state has invested heavily in strengthening CTDs. A major innovation has been the induction of corporals — graduate-level recruits, relatively young, digitally literate, and more professionally trained than the traditional police cadre. The idea was to inject fresh talent into the investigative system, people who could gather and analyze evidence with discipline and rigour, and who would be less bound by the inertia of legacy policing practices.
These corporals were trained in modern methods, given exposure to forensic institutions like the Punjab Forensic Science Agency (PFSA), and in some cases even provided modules on digital intelligence, social media analysis and cyber forensics.
Yet, as with so many reform efforts in Pakistan’s criminal justice system, ambition has collided with structure. Corporals, despite their potential, found themselves caught in an uncertain service framework. Their status, promotion tracks, and long-term retention policies remain poorly defined. Attrition has already become a concern as corporals seek alternative careers when upward mobility is blocked. What was meant to be a permanent professional cadre risks becoming a revolving door of trained, but departing young officers.
Parallel to these police reforms, prosecution departments were also supposed to be strengthened. A lesson of the 2016 report was that police and prosecutors worked in silos, with little meaningful coordination. The ATC case file — the challan — was often prepared without prosecutorial input, and the prosecutor’s role was reduced to presenting in court whatever the police brought, however weak.
The concept of prosecutorial gatekeeping — where prosecutors vet and refine cases before trial, filtering out weak or tangential cases — was almost entirely absent. This meant that ATCs were flooded with cases, many of which should have been diverted back to regular sessions courts.
In theory, corporals could have been part of the answer here (or maybe they already are). If CTD corporals worked closely with prosecutors from the very start of an investigation, weak evidence could be flagged early, and cases could be strengthened before reaching the ATCs.
Instead of seeing prosecutors as last-minute courtroom presenters, the system could embed them as partners in investigation, exercising gatekeeping functions that reduce the burden of tangential litigation. But this requires cultural change on both sides: police must accept prosecutorial oversight, and prosecutors must step up from their passive role to actively shape case preparation.
Looking forward, the picture could evolve in several ways. In the optimistic scenario, corporals might have become institutionalized within CTDs, their service structures regularized, and their careers stabilized. With training, they might have started to rely more on forensic science and digital evidence, reducing dependence on fragile eyewitness testimony.
Prosecutors, emboldened by clearer legal mandates and better liaison mechanisms, perhaps now exercise stronger gatekeeping functions, screening out weak cases and ensuring only those with prosecutable evidence reach the ATCs. The result would be a leaner, more credible terrorism docket and higher conviction ratios.
In the pessimistic scenario, however, corporals remained marginalized, their attrition rates rising as frustration with stagnating careers pushed them out. Prosecutors continued their laissez-faire posture, reluctant or unable to challenge investigative defects, and the courts continued to dismiss terrorism cases for lack of credible evidence.
In this version of the projected future, the same systemic weaknesses I identified in 2016 persist, only now with added disillusionment among a younger cadre that had once promised reform.
More likely is a mixed scenario, where Punjab, with PFSA and the largest CTD, shows measurable improvement, while KP and Balochistan — under greater security stress and resource scarcity — lag behind. Sindh may remain caught in between, its ATCs still clogged with politically-tinged cases and tangential litigation.
Ultimately, the real test of reform lies not just in numbers — how many corporals were recruited, or how many new training modules were delivered — but in whether the culture of investigation and prosecution has shifted.
If corporals are empowered and retained, if prosecutors act as genuine gatekeepers rather than passive conduits, and if courts begin rewarding forensic-anchored prosecutions, then the weaknesses identified nearly a decade ago might finally give way to a more resilient system. Without such shifts, however, the cycle of weak investigations, padded witnesses, and perfunctory acquittals will continue, regardless of how many corporals or prosecutors Pakistan hires.
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Compromise and coercion
Finally, my first report noted that compromise — whether through private settlements, coercion, or intimidation — routinely undermined prosecutions. Terrorist organizations often coerced families into silence, while victims of kidnapping for ransom negotiated directly with abductors. This follow-up aims to assess whether such coercive settlements remain prevalent, or whether the state has strengthened its writ in terrorism prosecutions?
Towards a “second report”
This article represents a study in progress — first thoughts, for a second report following up on my 2016 baseline. Then, the evidence showed a prosecution system plagued by dependence on eyewitnesses, neglect of modern evidence, tangential litigation, fear, and weak institutional capacity. Today, as terrorism resurges, the pressing question is whether the rule of law response has evolved or stagnated, if Pakistan’s criminal justice system has moved beyond the structural weaknesses identified nearly a decade ago, or whether the same challenges — unaddressed — continue to compromise terrorism prosecution. Kudos to the policymakers who have made it happen if things have moved forwards, and a moment of introspection, almost a decade later, if they have not.
Manzar Zaidi is a security consultant and academic
All facts and information are the sole responsibility of the author
