DND Report
The conviction of human rights lawyer Imaan Mazari and her husband, Advocate Hadi Ali Chattha, by an Islamabad district and sessions court has once again ignited an intense debate in Pakistan over freedom of expression, the role of social media activism, and the limits imposed by law.
While the couple and their supporters have framed the case as political victimisation, her previous videos in which she had been abusing Pakistan Army could be enough to draw line for her that there is a difference in criticism and sedation and she had already crossed that time years ago but was out of law in past because her family, particularly her mother in past had been too close to military establishment and his maternal grandfather Sardar Ashiq Mazari had been pro-establishment feudal lord and her mother had been federal minister in Imran Khan’s cabinet .In 2002, Mazari became the head of the government-funded Institute of Strategic Studies and remained until in 2008. In 2009. She had been an associate professor at government funded Quaid-i-Azam University and later became chairperson of the university’s Department of Defense and Strategic Studies.
Officials and legal observers believe that her conviction is firmly rooted in criminal law and judicial process rather than state coercion.

According to government circles, the arrest of Imaan Mazari and Hadi Ali Chattha was neither arbitrary nor extrajudicial. An official, speaking on condition of anonymity as he was not authorised to speak to the media, told DND News Agency that the action was taken under registered FIRs involving cognisable offences, in strict accordance with the Pakistan Penal Code (PPC), Criminal Procedure Code (CrPC), and the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act (Peca) 2016. “There was no abduction, no coercion, and no personal vendetta involved,” the official maintained, adding that the case followed due legal procedure at every stage.
The couple was convicted in a case pertaining to controversial posts and reposts on X (formerly Twitter), which authorities described as “anti-state” in nature. The National Cyber Crime Investigation Agency (NCCIA) registered the case in August last year, alleging that the digital content was designed to incite divisions in society and malign state institutions. Following the trial, both were sentenced to 17 years in prison. They were produced before the court via video link, during which Mazari alleged mistreatment in custody and announced a boycott of the proceedings. The verdict was announced by Additional District and Sessions Judge Muhammad Afzal Majoka in the presence of special prosecutors Barrister Fahad and Rana Usman, while defence counsel were notably absent.
Officials reject the narrative of political victimisation, arguing that if the case were an act of revenge, transparent judicial proceedings, bail opportunities, and appellate remedies would not have been available. “The Constitution guarantees freedom of expression, but it does not permit hate speech, contempt for state institutions, or incitement,” the official said. “No one is above the law. Being a lawyer or having a political identity does not grant immunity.”
The controversy cannot be understood in isolation from Imaan Mazari’s past activism. Over the years, she has repeatedly positioned herself as a vocal critic of Pakistan’s security establishment, particularly the Pakistan Army. Through protests, court appearances, press conferences, and an aggressive social media presence, Mazari has led and participated in campaigns accusing military institutions of enforced disappearances, political engineering, and human rights violations. While criticism of state institutions is not unlawful per se, officials argue that her campaigns increasingly crossed the line from critique into vilification, provocation, and digital conduct that allegedly violated the law.
State representatives contend that rebranding law-breaking as “human rights activism” is mala fide. “Human rights do not mean attacking institutions, delivering hate-filled speeches, or provoking law-enforcement agencies,” the official said. “These are criminal offences and cannot be justified under the guise of dissent.” According to this view, Mazari’s previous campaigns established a consistent pattern of confrontational activism, particularly against the military, which ultimately manifested in the controversial online content that led to her conviction.
Another key point emphasised by government circles is the misuse of social media as an alternative to legal remedy. Officials insist that courts, not digital platforms, are the appropriate forum for justice. “If the arrest or charges are unlawful, the constitutional path lies through appellate courts,” the official noted. “Noise on social media, external narratives, and fake news often indicate a weak legal defence rather than genuine injustice.”
The state maintains that it did not oppress the accused but merely enforced the law under judicial oversight. All constitutional rights—including access to legal counsel, the right to seek bail, and the right to appeal were provided. From this perspective, portraying the case as state repression is seen as a deliberate attempt to mislead public opinion and international audiences.
The Imaan Mazari case underscores a broader challenge facing Pakistan: balancing freedom of expression with the rule of law in the digital age. While dissent and criticism are essential in any democracy, officials argue that these freedoms are not absolute and must operate within constitutional and legal boundaries. Social media activism, especially when it targets state institutions with inflammatory language, is increasingly subject to legal scrutiny under cybercrime laws.
As the case moves to appellate courts, the legal process will determine whether the convictions stand or are overturned. What remains clear, however, is that in Pakistan’s constitutional framework, accountability applies equally to all citizens. Holding individuals accountable for alleged violations of the law, officials argue, is not a choice for the state but a constitutional duty, regardless of one’s profession, activism, or political stance
