A couple of points stand out in these reports. One, we do not have good data on violence against women. Incidents are underreported, and there are no national registries or data sets of any sort. Most reported data comes from newspaper reporting, police case registrations, hotline reports, and so on.

Two, though many reasons — poor laws and weak implementation, few protections, pathetic institutional arrangements, low reporting and conviction rates, delays, social and societal taboos, etc — are cited in these reports, a primary one is the impact of patriarchy: the control of men over society. Patriarchy shapes not only laws, norms, and expectations in this society; it also shapes responses: what she was wearing, why she was out at that time, why she was driving, and so on.

Patriarchy is hard to spot, fight, and neutralise because it is embedded in almost every norm, rule, and law. Most societies have, historically and even today, used education to address society’s main issues. What it means to be educated has varied across societies and times, and one element (other than the ability to carry out tasks) has been the larger socialisation of the individual within society and the shaping of their values and norms. I want to pose the question: should we not be shaping our education to take on the issue of patriarchy and its impacts directly?

Recently, my daughter started school as a fifth-grader in a public school in London. On the very first day, after introductions and other formalities, her teacher spent a couple of hours talking about the autism spectrum and notions of inclusion, expected behaviour, and what was not expected or what would not be tolerated. This came before any conversation about the English or math curriculum. This term, the heroes the class will be introduced to include Frida Kahlo, Mahatma Gandhi, Simone Biles, and a couple of human rights defenders from across the globe.

We must address the most urgent social and cultural issues of our society through education.

Every day when I walk her back from school and ask her about her day, she tells me about the book they have been reading in class, the documentary they saw, the discussions they had, etc. I have to ask specifically about her math, English and history lessons. They are there, and she is learning the subjects she is supposed to, but the school and her education are much more than that. This has been true every school day. It is about what she needs as a human being and a citizen; it is about values and the kind of society that needs to be there. Specific skills are just a small part of the ‘education’ she is getting.

I went to some of the best schools in Lahore in the day. But when I landed in England for undergraduate studies, one of the first things I noticed, comparing my own educational experiences with those of my undergraduate peers from England, was that almost each one of my peers had been exposed to things I had not. All of them had good exposure to and knowledge of a major European language other than English. All of them had studied music for many years in their schools, and many could play one instrument fairly well or had a good understanding of it. Many of them had had singing lessons: some were good choir singers. So, language, music and singing. Their exposure to art was also more advanced than mine. The schools I attended focused much more on doing well in academic subjects and preparing for school-leaving examinations.

Though schools, especially high-fee private schools, have changed a lot, including in Pakistan over the years, even the best of them today remain narrowly focused on subject understanding and examination performance. They do not give any importance to preparing citizens and human beings. Nor is there a demand for this from parents.

In fact, the trend, at least in public schools, is the opposite. With clear evidence that most children in schools are not learning enough (77 per cent are ‘learning poor’), the focus has shifted to foundational learning to ensure students grasp the basics of language and math. But the danger is that this approach narrows the scope of education even more. We focus on only essential learning objectives and try to drill them into students. We teach these and test only these. We test only these, so we teach only these. Foundational learning is the flavour right now, and it is hard even to raise concerns about what this might mean for broader educational objectives.

Education has always been about creating citizens and human beings who can take us forward. We must address the most pressing social and cultural issues of our society through education. If we do not, what is the point of education, and how else can we plan for a better society? Violence against women, in all its forms, and the grip of patriarchy on our society is exactly the kind of embedded issue that cannot be tackled through law alone and has to be challenged through education and with a sense of purpose. The sheer brutality of what we keep seeing should wake us up to the urgency with which this needs to be addressed.

The writer is a senior research fellow at the Institute of Development and Economic Alternatives and an associate professor of economics at Lums.

Published in Dawn, September 25th, 2026

The fact that official definitions of the national interest are completely unrelated to popular sentiment is not a new quandary for the powers that be. But in comparison to almost every other dispensation in Pakistan’s history, this regime is not bothered with gaining even a modicum of consent from the people, having liberally deployed the big stick in the country’s core regions to match what has always been the historical norm in the peripheries.

Barely veiled threats have been issued this time too, ‘violent groups’ warned against trying to enter Islamabad. There have been a series of pre-emptive strikes against anyone and everyone that the government designates a ‘security risk’. From Imran Khan’s elderly sisters to the president of the Islamabad street vendors’ association, the regime is intent on ensuring that it alienates even those who have no link to the PTI. Whether the latter’s ‘long march’ even materialises is irrelevant, because the optics of a heavily contained population is the real story.

The container city, in fact, is a microcosm of the country at large. If you have a dissenting political opinion, you can be locked up, issued a Peca notice, or maybe even disappeared. To aspire to an economic situation beyond bare survival requires one to work longer and harder for slave wages — if you are amongst those from the army of unemployed that can actually find work.

The container city is a microcosm of the country at large.

It should not go unnoticed that Islamabad’s police officials have asked for Rs827 million to manage the yet-to-happen protests. Meanwhile, there is no suggestion that even a pittance of that sum will be allocated to upgrade facilities and quality of services in PIMS in the wake of the horrific fire which claimed the lives of 14 newborns.

There is no pretence at play here, no meaningful hegemonic strategy. The only consistent and conscious interest of the regime is in the realm of geopolitics. But unlike authoritarian rule under Ayub, Zia and Musharraf, today’s rulers cannot count on a structural windfall due to favourable geopolitical winds.

Aside from acquiring geostrategic rents from anti-communist Seato and Cento pacts, the Ayub regime actually had an industrial policy, cultivating something resembling a manufacturing sector and absorbing some labouring masses displaced from the agrarian sector. The 22 families, including emergent state profiteers, may have captured the major spoils, but there was some logic to the regime’s claim that a little wealth would eventually ‘trickle down’ to the masses.

Even while presiding over de-industrialisation, Zia benefited from the Gulf remittances as well as big industrial investments made under the Bhutto dispensation, not to mention windfalls from the ‘Afghan jihad’. Musharraf came to power after industrial policy was definitively declared dead, but the dictatorship nevertheless benefited from post 9/11 remittances and ‘war on terror’ dollars.

The current dispensation only secures fuel to keep government running the next day by extorting the masses through a levy, while its economic imagination is limited to FDI and a developmental logic revolving around resource grabs. It has shut down border trade with Afghanistan, which is a major supply of the everyday eco­­nomy. Mean­while, members of the Pakistani bourgeoisie itself lament its comp­rador character, the CEO of the Sentinel Group recently penn­ing a telling essay on ‘Pakistan’s missing multinationals’.

To be sure, the rot extends much deeper than the present regime. The so-called ‘demographic dividend’ which has been hyped up for at least 15 years is, instead, a huge pressure cooker; neither the state nor the private bourgeoisie — and for the most part this nexus operates in unison — has the capacity or interest to develop the skills of an exceedingly young population let alone guarantee it a dignified income.

And where young and old working people alike demonstrate enterprise so as to make ends meet, the response of the state is to suppress, confiscate, even destroy. Look no further than the treatment of Islamabad’s katchi abadi dwellers and street vendors in recent months.

Containment of the political and economic freedoms of Pakistan’s teeming masses is what the militarised state apparatus knows best. But building container cities does not make acute contradictions disappear, they only magnify them.

The writer teaches at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad.

Published in Dawn, September 25th, 2026

The agreement — signed by Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Turkiye on August 7 — empowers member states to treat an attack against one of them as an attack against all.

Its inaugural meeting was held on Aug 31, where officials from all member states met in Istanbul to establish the institutional structure of the alliance, and Pakistan was picked to head its secretariat in Riyadh.

Dar met Saudi Arabia’s Foreign Minister Prince Faisal bin Farhan and Turkiye’s Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan at the sidelines of the United Nations General Assembly in New York, he said in a post on social media platform X.

“Under the framework of the Makkah Joint Defence Agreement (MJDA), we reviewed progress towards establishing the institutional structures under the agreement and exchanged views on regional and international security issues,” he wrote.

More to follow.

The walkout undersco­red the competing pressu­res facing Netanyahu, who is battling mounting criticism abroad over the Gaza conflict while campaigning for re-election at home ahead of an October 27 vote.

On Thursday, Netanyahu delivered a combative address inside the General Assembly, where dozens of delegations walked out as he began speaking.

The departing diplomats left large sections of the hall empty, creating a striking contrast with Netanyahu’s attempt to use the podium to present Israel’s case before the international community.

Netanyahu responded by accusing his critics of hypocrisy and calling them “moral cowards.”

He rejected allegations that Israel had committed genocide in Gaza, saying Israel had prevented rather than committed genocide. He defended the country’s military actions in Gaza and elsewhere in the region.

He also devoted a significant part of his speech to New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani, calling him “the antisemitic mayor of New York” and accusing him of spreading what Netanyahu described as lies about Israel.

Mamdani, who had declined to join the street protests, responded after the speech.

“Prime Minister Netanyahu used his speech to repeat baseless lies meant to sanitise his genocide of Palestinians,” Mamdani said.

“No lie can change the fact that he remains the subject of an International Criminal Court arrest warrant alleging war crimes and crimes against humanity.”

Mamdani previously said New York City lacked the authority to enforce the ICC warrant against Netanyahu, arguing that the appropriate authorities should carry it out.

On Wednesday night, the mayor had hosted Palestinian families from Gaza at Gracie Mansion and planted an olive tree with them, saying: “May peace be our future.”

The two scenes — protesters confronting his government’s policies on the streets and diplomats leaving the hall during his address — turned Netanyahu’s brief visit to New York into a day of parallel confrontation.

Netanyahu’s stay had already been sharply shortened amid security concerns and expectations of protests. He arrived on Thursday morning, addressed the General Assembly and was scheduled to return to Israel the same evening rather than remain in New York overnight.

Outside the UN, Jewish and Muslim activists, Palestinian supporters, human-rights campaigners, progressive Jewish groups, politicians, artists and musicians took part in separate demonstrations across Manhattan. Their messages varied, but opposition to Netanyahu’s government and Israel’s conduct of the Gaza war brought many of them into the streets at the same time.

The protests also offered a visible glimpse of a generational shift in American attitudes toward Israel and Netanyahu. While support for Israel remains stronger among older Americans, younger Americans have become substantially more critical of the Israeli government.

A Pew Research Centre survey conducted in May found that only 18 per cent of Americans aged 18 to 29 had a favourable view of the Israeli government, compared with 47pc among those aged 65 and older. Among the youngest Americans, 58pc expressed a favourable view of Palestinians, compared with 47pc among those 65 and older.

That generational divide was visible on the streets of New York, where many of the demonstrators were young people, including students, activists, artists and younger politicians.

The largest direct action outside the UN was organised by Jewish Voice for Peace, whose New York chapter brought hundreds of protesters to First Avenue and 39th Street. Demonstrators wearing matching white T-shirts sat in the roadway, chanting against Netanyahu and calling for an end to US support for Israel.

For a while, protesters stood and sat in the street, linking arms and blocking traffic as police moved in to clear the roadway. The chants continued as officers began making arrests.

At least 30 people, including actors and politicians, were arrested in the initial action. Police later said more than 100 protesters had been taken into custody.

Among those detained were actors Susan Sarandon and Hannah Einbinder, congressional candidate Darializa Avila Chevalier and City Council member Chi Ossé. Musicians Julien Baker and Lucy Dacus and actor Elliott Page were also among the prominent figures taking part in the protests.

Chelsea Manning, who joined the protest, said people outside government institutions needed ways to reject policies they regarded as imperialism, ethnic cleansing and genocide.

“We can’t be in there. This is the closest that we can get,” she said.

Manijeh Moradian, a university professor of Iranian and Jewish heritage who participated in the demonstration, said protesters had a responsibility to speak out against what was happening in Gaza with US support.

Jewish groups divided

The demonstrations also highlighted divisions within New York’s Jewish community.

Progressive Jewish organisations, including New York Jewish Agenda, T’ruah, J Street, New Jewish Narrative, New Israel Fund and Partners for Progressive Israel, held a separate protest at Dag Hammarskjöld Plaza near the UN.

“We are gathered here as American Jews, Israelis, New Yorkers, to say: You are not welcome here,” said Margo Hughes-Robinson, executive director of New York Jewish Agenda.

T’ruah, a rabbinic human-rights organisation, called for a ceasefire and accountability for alleged war crimes. The organisers described their rally as an alternative for Jewish New Yorkers who opposed Netanyahu’s policies while retaining concern for Israel and Jewish security.

They were confronted by pro-Netanyahu counter-protesters who blew whistles, used megaphones, chanted “Bibi”, and sang Israel’s national anthem.

On the other side, the ultra-Orthodox anti-Zionist group Neturei Karta also demonstrated, arguing that opposition to Israel could not automatically be equated with antisemitism.

Elsewhere, Jewish and Muslim demonstrators marched together towards the UN, while Palestinian activists and other organisations joined the broader mobilisation against Netanyahu.

A city divided over Israel and Gaza

As police loaded detained protesters onto buses outside the UN, Netanyahu was speaking inside a building protected by heavy security. Outside, demonstrators sought to challenge the Israeli prime minister’s account of the Gaza war; inside, diplomats expressed their opposition by leaving the chamber.

The contrast was difficult to miss.

For several hours on Thursday, New York’s streets and the UN General Assembly hall became parallel stages for the same international argument — one expressed through demonstrations and arrests outside, the other through a diplomatic boycott inside.

And beneath both scenes was a changing American debate over Israel.