Adiala Jail in Rawalpindi has undoubtedly been one of the most significant sites in Pakistan’s political history. Sitting on the edge of Rawalpindi, it has always functioned as a space used to imprison all dissent against the ruling order. Established in the late 1970s under the military regime of General Zia-ul-Haq, this maximum-security prison quickly gained a reputation for harsh conditions and allegations of human rights violations. Its association with the death sentence of former Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto in 1979 irrevocably cemented its place in Pakistan’s collective memory. The event soon turned the jail into a political indicator rather than a correctional space. Whenever the state has sent an opponent to Adiala, it has been read as a shift in the balance of power and a tightening of their civil and political liberties.
Being a maximum-security prison, Adiala Jail often holds ‘political prisoners’ whose charges rarely match the intensity of their sentence. The pattern has repeated itself across different governments, which suggests a structural reliance on custody to curb opposition. Adiala, therefore, reflects a system in which legal establishment is subservient to the ruling order, which sentences imprisonment as a strategic choice rather than a neutral outcome of due process.
Political detention in Pakistan mostly relies on laws that allow broad interpretation. The state uses these laws to charge opponents with a myriad of crimes that fit the then government’s political narrative. Historically, the line between legal grounds and political motives has remained rather thin. Individuals who fall out with the ruling order and criticise those in power have frequently been imprisoned in Adiala under disputed circumstances. The list of previous inmates shows the scale of this practice. Nawaz Sharif, Asif Ali Zardari, Shahid Khaqan Abbasi, Yousaf Raza Gilani, and Imran Khan have spent time inside the facility after periods of political confrontation. Their sentences are mostly a reflection of political rivalry rather than a consistent application of law.
This recurrent pattern of imprisonment of opposition leaders has created a climate in which detention serves political objectives. Whenever an opposition leader gets arrested, authorities restrict their movement, limit communication, and disrupt organisational links. Consequently, their political parties struggle to maintain strategy when their leaders are in custody. Detainees lose contact with supporters and advisers, and the legal process becomes secondary to the hegemonic control of the ruling establishment. This use of detention shapes the political environment and raises questions about the state’s commitment to democratic norms.
Under Pakistan Prison Rules 1978 (PPR), convicted and unconvicted inmates (including under-trial detainees) have the legal right to meet family, friends, and legal counsel under Rules 552 to 562. The same framework enforces a detainee’s constitutional right under the Constitution of Pakistan 1973, to life and liberty (Article 9), dignity (Article 14), and due process (Article 10A). In cases involving opposition leaders or critics of the rul – ing order, authorities repeatedly invoke alleged security or administrative grounds to deny visits, suspending the legal rights guaranteed under the PPR. The visitation bans specifically signal the reach of coercive institutions in moments of political tension and display how those institutions set the limits of civilian authority. The restric – tion also creates a chilling effect on political participa – tion because activists, party workers, and voters read the ban as a warning about the personal risks of open engagement. Parties interpret the measure as evidence that electoral competition shifts from public choice to ad – ministrative engineering. This is because control over access to detainees influences campaign strategy and intra-party coordination. Limited access also shapes the flow of information because journalists depend on direct contact to verify claims, which means the ban narrows the range of voices that appear in the media and reduces the space for plural debate.
The most recent illustration of this involves former Prime Minister Imran Khan. Since February 2025, when his sis – ters were first refused visitation, the family has attempted multiple times to visit him in Adiala Jail but were turned away by prison authorities despite a formal order from the Islamabad High Court (IHC) reinstating bi-weekly meetings. This denial occurred even though the court had granted access to family and legal counsel under stipulated conditions. Such selective enforcement reveals a stark gap between legal procedure and political motives. The verdicts and regulations remain on pa – per; implementation depends on institutional discretion shaped by political calculation. In effect, the label ‘political prisoner’ comes to mark not just a detainee’s status, but a regime’s willingness to subordinate legal norms to political ends.
The detention and subsequent visitation ban on Imran Khan fit a long-standing pattern in which the state re – lies on broad discretionary authority to manage political opposition. The measures taken to disperse Imran Khan’s sisters protesting for their visitation right, expos – es the persistent tension between the judiciary and the executive order being exercised above the rule of law, as courts navigate constitutional limits while high-profile detentions challenge the separation of powers. At one instance, Information Minister Attaullah Tarar announced a complete ban on all meetings with Khan at Adiala Jail, calling him an ‘extremist consumed by war hysteria.’ Even before the ban, the PTI had repeatedly claimed Khan was being denied regular meetings with lawyers and family despite court rulings allowing visitation.
PTI has held repeated demonstrations demanding Khan’s release since his arrest in 2023, several of which have ended in confrontation with police and casualties on both sides. Civil society and human rights organisations have responded by documenting restrictions on visitation, legal access, and other coercive measures, producing detailed records of political pressure. Inter – national observers follow these developments closely, treating incidents like this as key indicators of democratic backsliding and the shrinking of space for political dis – sent in Pakistan.
This pattern of human rights infringement sets a dangerous path for Pakistan’s political future because it normalises the use of custodial restrictions as a tool of hegemonic control. When authorities limit rights that the law already protects, they create incentives for future governments to rely on the same methods, which results in a political environment in which electoral mandates lose meaning, and institutional rivalry deepens. The continued use of such measures clearly signals that the state prefers control over the rule of law, which weakens the semblance of democracy the country relies on.
The writer is our Editorial Assistant.
