Every few months, Pakistan witnesses women being killed in the name of honour. This happens not because Pakistan lacks safety measures or laws, but because society itself legitimises such crimes. Public outrage erupts, statements are issued, and then the cycle repeats. The recent incident of Gulaan Bharo serves as a tragic reminder of how deeply violence still hides behind the facade of culture.
The Patriarchal Mindset Behind Honour Killings
At the centre of this problem lies a deeply patriarchal mindset in which women are perceived not as individuals with independent rights, but as carriers of collective family honour. Decisions related to marriage, relationships, or personal freedom are therefore transformed into questions of family prestige. When such delusional notions are challenged, violence becomes the means of restoring social control. The crime here is rarely an act of grave and sudden rage alone; it is often embedded in a broader culture that legitimises dominance and obedience. Equality becomes a mere theory, and the megalomaniac mindset in men takes the lead.
Legal Reforms and Their Limitations
Pakistan formally criminalises honour killings. In fact, the Constitution of Pakistan protects its citizens under Article 9 and Article 14, which guarantee the right to life and the dignity of man. Furthermore, the anti-honour killing reforms passed by Parliament in 2016 were seen as landmark legislative changes; they closed long-standing loopholes by mandating strict prison sentences and limiting the pardoning of perpetrators. Still, the arrow of culture strikes at the heart of these reforms and laws. The persistence of this crime shows something more deeply rooted in society: the acceptance of these actions as a way of “restoring” a family’s reputation. This represents a grave moral failure for all of us, and it is high time we re-examine the weak enforcement measures in this ambit.
Weak Criminal Justice System
The weakness of the criminal justice system further intensifies the problem. Poor investigations, delayed trials, social pressure on the complainants, and weak prosecution often mitigate the certainty of punishment. Even though perpetrators often try to misuse religion to justify their actions, the holy texts of Islam, Christianity, or even Hinduism have never sanctioned such acts of violence. While legal reforms closed some loopholes historically exploited in honour killing cases, the existence of law alone cannot guarantee justice where enforcement remains inconsistent. A perpetrator who believes that family support, social sympathy, and institutional weakness will shield him is far less likely to fear criminal consequences.
Collective Complicity and Silence
Equally disturbing is the silence that surrounds these killings. Families frequently protect perpetrators, communities discourage witnesses from speaking, and even the victim’s family often view it as taboo to pursue the case. The result is a dangerous form of collective complicity where the murderer does not act entirely alone, but within a system that expects silence rather than accountability. This acceptance subtly passes on to future generations, to the point where even women in tribal or rural areas start viewing it as normal.
Misuse of Religion
There is also a continuous misuse of religion to justify such violence in Pakistan. No civilised legal or religious framework permits individuals to act as judges and executioners in the name of morality. Even though perpetrators often try to misuse religion to justify their actions, the holy texts of Islam, Christianity, or even Hinduism have never sanctioned such acts of violence. Yet, this false moral legitimacy allows honour killings to survive not merely as criminal acts, but as socially defended crimes.
The Need for Societal Change
Ultimately, this issue persists because it extends beyond individual offenders. A society that teaches its daughters silence and its sons entitlement cannot meaningfully claim surprise when violence emerges from that imbalance. The tragedy is not only that lives continue to be lost, but that these deaths are still capable of finding social sympathy disguised as tradition. So long as honour remains tied to control rather than humanity, the cycle will continue to replicate itself across generations. A nation never grows by teaching people how to die for honour; it grows by learning how to protect life despite wounded pride, social pressure, or personal disagreement. Until then, every honour killing will remain more than a private crime. It will stand as a public indictment of a society that allowed the idea of honour to become more valuable than human life.
