Enforced disappearances remain one of the most debated and emotive issues in Pakistan. International organizations such as Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch consistently highlight cases of missing persons, often portraying them as innocent civilians—teachers, students, activists, or laborers—who have fallen prey to state repression. However, these narratives frequently omit crucial context: a significant number of the so-called disappeared individuals were either proven or strongly suspected to have ties with militant organizations responsible for some of Pakistan’s bloodiest episodes of terrorism.

The tension lies in reconciling Pakistan’s national security imperatives with the global human rights discourse that frames the state as the aggressor and the “missing” as victims. This one-sided framing undermines the complexity of Pakistan’s counter-terrorism struggle, erases the memory of actual victims of terrorism, and risks legitimizing anti-state actors.

Amnesty International has been consistent in its reports on enforced disappearances. Their narratives typically highlight personal stories—students abducted on their way home, teachers allegedly picked up without explanation, or laborers vanished from their villages. These stories resonate strongly with global audiences, appealing to emotions of victimhood and injustice. Yet, the omission of critical context—such as verified or suspected affiliations with banned outfits like the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), sectarian militias, or separatist networks—creates a distorted picture. By refusing to engage with these connections, Amnesty’s portrayal veers toward propaganda, obscuring the reality that Pakistan has faced existential threats from terrorism over the last two decades.

Pakistan’s experience with terrorism is not abstract—it is painfully real. Over 94,000 Pakistanis have lost their lives to suicide bombings, sectarian massacres, targeted killings, and military operations against extremists. Many individuals presented as “victims” of enforced disappearance were later revealed to have provided shelter, intelligence, or funds to these groups. Some even turned out to be active operatives in suicide bombings, such as those linked to attacks in Mach, Gwadar, or in urban centers like Karachi. Amnesty’s silence on these revelations raises an uncomfortable question: is the narrative of missing persons inadvertently cloaking militants in innocence? By excluding the stories of ordinary Pakistanis murdered in terrorist violence, Amnesty risks privileging the accounts of alleged perpetrators over the lived suffering of true victims.

There is no denying that genuine cases of wrongful disappearance exist. Families of such individuals deserve answers, accountability, and due process under the law. But the global framing of all missing persons as victims of state abuse is a half-truth at best. In many cases, “disappeared” individuals were engaged in activities that challenged the sovereignty of the state—whether through espionage, militant recruitment, or collaboration with terror groups. In a country waging a prolonged war on terror, can such individuals be framed only as victims? To do so erases their role in perpetuating violence and reduces Pakistan’s immense security challenges to a caricature of authoritarian repression.

The families of the disappeared often frame their loved ones as innocent victims. Their grief is real, but sympathy cannot override accountability. If investigations confirm links to terrorist financing, planning, or recruitment, then the issue is not one of arbitrary disappearance but of national security. The challenge for Pakistan lies in balancing compassion for families with the imperative of justice for the thousands of innocent Pakistanis killed in terror attacks. Amnesty’s reports rarely acknowledge this balance; instead, they tilt the scales toward sympathy without context.

Another issue is Amnesty International’s selective outrage. The organization frequently publishes detailed reports on missing persons but rarely highlights the plight of the thousands of families who lost members in terrorist violence. Suicide bombings at shrines, sectarian attacks in mosques, or targeted killings of ethnic minorities receive less consistent attention. This double standard skews the international discourse: Pakistan is portrayed as the aggressor, while terrorists and their facilitators are cast as victims of human rights abuse. Such framing not only undermines Pakistan’s sacrifices but also emboldens anti-state actors by offering them moral cover.

Enforced disappearances in Pakistan cannot be understood in isolation. They exist within the context of a nation that has sacrificed more than most in its battle against terrorism. While wrongful cases must be addressed transparently, it is equally important to challenge the one-sided victimhood narrative that cloaks militants as innocents and portrays Pakistan as a perpetrator rather than a victim of terror. Human rights and national security are not mutually exclusive. A fair, balanced approach would recognize both the need for accountability and the reality of Pakistan’s existential struggle against terrorism. Anything less is not human rights advocacy—it is propaganda.