Punjab today faces a troubling challenge that goes beyond ordinary law and order. Reports of suspects being killed in police encounters have raised serious questions about due process, accountability, and the role of institutions in upholding justice. A recent fact-finding report by the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) has drawn attention to the scale of the issue, noting that hundreds of suspects lost their lives last year after the creation of the Crime Control Department. The absence of mandatory investigations and magisterial inquiries into these deaths has reinforced concerns that extrajudicial killings are becoming entrenched as a method of crime control.

For decades, custodial deaths and staged encounters have been associated with policing in Punjab. Successive governments often ignored these practices, treating them as unfortunate but tolerable excesses. What distinguishes the present moment is the perception that such killings are no longer sporadic but systematic. Families of victims allege that they are discouraged from pursuing legal remedies, sometimes even threatened with further harm. The uniformity of FIRs across districts — each claiming suspects fired first and police responded in self-defence — suggests a pattern that undermines credibility.

The government argues that the Crime Control Department has helped reduce serious crime and that many of those killed were hardened criminals. While public safety is a legitimate concern, the principle of justice requires that allegations be tested in court, not settled on the street. Civilised societies do not allow police officers to act simultaneously as investigators, judges, and executioners. The reliance on encounters reflects a deeper failure: the inability to strengthen investigative capacity so that cases can be built on credible forensic evidence and withstand judicial scrutiny. When prosecutions collapse for lack of evidence, the fault lies not with the courts but with weak investigations.

The temptation to adopt shortcuts is understandable in a province struggling with crime and limited resources. Yet the consequences of bypassing due process are grave. Extrajudicial killings erode public trust, brutalise society, and weaken the rule of law. They also risk damaging Pakistan’s international reputation as a country committed to justice and human rights. At a time when preferential trade agreements such as GSP-Plus depend on compliance with global standards, the persistence of such practices could carry economic costs alongside moral ones.

The challenge before Punjab’s leadership is not only to control crime but to do so in a manner that strengthens institutions rather than undermines them. Real reform requires investment in training, forensic facilities, and investigative professionalism. It requires political will to resist the easy path of encounters and instead build a system where justice is visible, transparent, and accountable.

The fight against crime must never come at the expense of the rule of law. If the state allows extrajudicial killings to become routine, it risks normalising violence and weakening the very institutions meant to protect citizens. Punjab stands at a crossroads: either continue down a path of expediency that erodes trust, or commit to reforms that uphold justice and restore confidence in governance. The choice will define not only the province’s future but also the credibility of Pakistan’s commitment to lawful and humane governance.