Pakistan’s constitutional story is unlike that of most democracies. Here, constitutionalism has not been sustained by political restraint, parliamentary supremacy, or entrenched democratic culture. Instead, it has survived, when it has survived at all through judicial intervention. This is why constitutionalism in Pakistan is, by necessity, court-centered.
This is not an argument for judicial dominance as an ideal model. It is a diagnosis of how constitutional order has actually been preserved in a state repeatedly subjected to constitutional rupture. From the earliest years of Pakistan, constitutional breakdown has been treated not as an aberration but as a recurring political tool. Coups, emergency regimes, and extra-constitutional arrangements have repeatedly displaced constitutional governance. In such an environment, constitutionalism could not be sustained through political self-discipline alone. The courts were therefore forced into a role they did not initially choose. The first decisive judicial response to constitutional rupture came in State v. Dosso, where the Supreme Court validated a military takeover by invoking the theory of revolutionary legality. By recognizing a successful coup as a source of law, the Court effectively subordinated constitutional supremacy to political force. This decision did more than legitimize a regime it shifted constitutional authority away from the Constitution itself.
Once courts assumed the power to validate constitutional death, the survival of constitutionalism could only be restored through judicial reversal. That reversal came in Asma Jilani v. Government of Punjab, when the Supreme Court rejected the doctrine of necessity and declared martial law illegal. The judgment restored the principle that no authority exists outside the Constitution. Yet its impact was moral rather than structural. While it corrected Dosso doctrinally, it did not permanently prevent courts from accommodating power during future crises.
This pattern repeated itself in Zafar Ali Shah v. Musharraf case, where the Court once again validated a coup this time conditionally. By imposing timelines and supervisory constraints, the judiciary attempted to manage illegality rather than prohibit it. Constitutional rupture was treated as an exceptional event that courts could regulate, rather than an act that must be rejected outright. This approach entrenched a dangerous assumption: that constitutional breakdown is acceptable if it is judicially supervised.
The decisive break from this logic came in Sindh High Court Bar Association v. Federation case. This judgment abolished the doctrine of necessity, rejected the legitimacy of extra-constitutional authority, and reaffirmed that judicial power itself derives exclusively from the Constitution. It marked the clearest assertion that constitutionalism in Pakistan cannot coexist with managed illegality. From this point onward, constitutional survival depended explicitly on judicial refusal to recognize unconstitutional power.
Comparatively, Pakistan’s experience resembles post-authoritarian constitutional systems rather than classical parliamentary democracies. While Marbury v. Madison case it was established judicial review within a stable constitutional framework, Pakistani courts have been called upon to preserve the very existence of constitutional order. The judiciary here has not merely interpreted the Constitution; it has repeatedly had to rescue it. This explains why Pakistani courts occupy such a central and controversial place in political life. Court-centered constitutionalism is not the result of judicial ambition, but of institutional failure elsewhere. Parliament has repeatedly validated extra-constitutional regimes. Executives have governed through emergency powers. In that vacuum, courts have become the last forum where constitutional limits are asserted.
This model, however, carries serious risks. Persistent judicial centrality can politicise the courts, erode public confidence, and blur the line between constitutional adjudication and political decision-making. Court-centred constitutionalism is therefore neither ideal nor sustainable in the long term. Yet Pakistan’s experience suggests a hard truth: the alternative has not been parliamentary constitutionalism, but constitutional collapse. Until political institutions internalize constitutional limits and develop credible mechanisms of self-restraint, judicial guardianship will remain indispensable. In Pakistan, constitutionalism is court-centered not because it should be but because history has left no other institution willing, or able, to defend it.
