EDITORIAL: The Chief Justice of Pakistan is right, of course. Timely and effective justice is not just a constitutional duty, it’s a moral one. But acknowledging the imperative is one thing. However, delivering on it, especially in a system as chronically dysfunctional as ours, is another.
This week’s fifth “interactive session” chaired by Chief Justice Yahya Afridi at the Supreme Court painted a picture of progress. Of the 89 reform initiatives identified under the judiciary’s ongoing modernisation agenda, 26 are reportedly complete, 44 are in progress, and 14 are queued up. A commendable pace, if the numbers are accurate; and if they mean anything at all outside internal review meetings.
The court claims these efforts have already reduced case pendency. That would be meaningful, if measurable. But for most Pakistanis waiting months, years, or even decades to get a hearing — let alone a judgment — this kind of bureaucratic bookkeeping does little to inspire confidence. We’ve heard versions of this script before.
Reforms have been promised for decades. Automation, digitisation, efficiency; the vocabulary shifts, but the outcome never does. Cases continue to pile up. Litigants continue to die waiting. And the justice system remains a byword for delay, corruption, and elite capture.
If anything, the Pakistani judiciary has become one of the most inefficient and compromised arms of the state. Lower courts are riddled with rent-seeking. High courts are overwhelmed by both incompetence and politicisation. And the Supreme Court itself — often the final refuge for those failed by every other institution — is only just beginning to acknowledge the scale of the breakdown. When Chief Justice Afridi expresses concern over slow categorisation of cases or lagging digitisation efforts, he is essentially admitting that even internal housekeeping remains a struggle. These are not grand constitutional challenges. They are operational basics. If the court can’t process a case file in time, how will it ever process justice?
What makes it worse is the gap between performance and perception. The judiciary has long been one of the most distrusted institutions in the country, and not without reason. Its top appointments have often served as instruments of power politics. Its lower ranks are widely seen as transactional. And its track record on serving the average citizen is abysmal. From land disputes to criminal appeals to family law, justice in Pakistan is routinely delayed, prohibitively expensive, and painfully opaque. Reform cannot be an internal conversation. It must be a public transformation.
That’s why the Supreme Court’s language of “interactive sessions” and “review meetings” needs to be replaced with something more concrete. How many cases have actually been decided faster? How many courtrooms are functioning more efficiently today than a year ago? How many litigants have benefited from the “Case Management System”? What percentage of backlog has been cleared — and not just shifted around?
The judiciary cannot keep hiding behind process when what the country needs is outcome. It cannot speak in the language of moral responsibility while remaining structurally unaccountable. The fact that Pakistan still does not have a proper mechanism for judicial performance evaluation, or disciplinary oversight, says everything about how far we are from meaningful reform. Until judges at every level are answerable for delays, reversals, and mismanagement, the justice system will continue to fail those who need it most.
So yes, timely justice is essential — and long overdue. But it will not come from power points or pledges. It will come from an overhaul in how the judiciary sees itself: not as an untouchable tier of the state, but as a public service; funded by taxpayers, designed for citizens, and judged by results. The Chief Justice has said the right things. Now the institution must do the hard things.
Because until ordinary Pakistanis get justice they can see, feel, and afford, justice will remain a slogan, not a system.
Copyright Business Recorder, 2025