Empty desks, endangered laws, global responsibility

2026-03-10 - 21:54

IN the Middle East the air itself carries the weight of grief, fear and a quiet, exhausted anger. Across the region, families wake each morning unsure of what the next hour will bring. The rules that were meant to protect human life, rules written after the world’s darkest wars, seem to be dissolving in real time. In their place, we are left with stories of shattered homes, broken classrooms and leaders assassinated in moments that reshape nations. Among the most haunting reports are those emerging from Iran. The country’s Supreme Leader was assassinated in a US/Israeli strike and that more than 160 schoolgirls were killed when a school in the country’s south was bombed. The human reaction they provoke is immediate and universal. Every parent knows the terror of imagining their child’s empty seat at the dinner table. Every society understands the shock of losing its leaders to violence. These atrocities force us to confront the fragility of the protections we once believed were unbreakable. These acts violate the clearest pillars of international law. Article 2(4) of the UN Charter prohibits force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state, while Article 51 allows force only in response to an actual or imminent armed attack—not as a tool of political assassination. The targeted killing of a head of state breaches the prohibition on assassination and a strike on a school filled with children violates core principles of international humanitarian law, including the prohibition on disproportionate attacks and the special protection of children and educational institutions under the Convention on the Rights of the Child. These laws exist to prevent a world where power alone decides who may live or die. This erosion of legal norms extends beyond Iran, most visibly and devastatingly in Palestine and, to an extent, Indian Occupied Kashmir. In July 2024, the International Court of Justice issued a historic opinion concluding that Israel’s occupation of Palestinian territory—including Gaza, the West Bank and East Jerusalem—is unlawful, that its settlement enterprise violates Article 49(6) of the Fourth Geneva Convention and that its governance system amounts to racial segregation and apartheid, violating the Palestinian right to self-determination. These are not abstract legal findings; they are the lived reality of millions. In Gaza, entire neighborhoods have been reduced to dust. Hospitals, schools and shelters—protected civilian objects under international humanitarian law—have been repeatedly struck. Under the laws of occupation, Israel is obligated to ensure access to food, water, medical care and basic services. Yet the people of Gaza face shortages of everything except fear. Every destroyed home carries a story; every child pulled from rubble is a reminder that legal principles mean little when the world refuses to enforce them. The West Bank tells a parallel story. Military raids, settler violence and settlement expansion have created a landscape shaped by checkpoints, incursions and uncertainty. Under international law, force in occupied territory must follow strict law enforcement standards, not battlefield rules. Yet patterns of killings, arrests and infrastructure destruction reveal a widening gap between legal obligations and actual practice. Beyond Palestine, Israel’s repeated strikes in Syria and Lebanon raise further legal and humanitarian concerns. Airstrikes on Syrian territory without government consent or UN Security Council authorization violate state sovereignty under Article 2(4) of the UN Charter unless justified by self-defense. In Lebanon, cross-border exchanges have displaced families and destroyed civilian infrastructure, deepening cycles of fear. Allegations of similar suppression in Indian Occupied Kashmir illustrate how contested territories often become theatres of unchecked power. Across these crises, powerful states and political leaders shape the fate of millions. Critics argue that geopolitical alliances, domestic pressures and unresolved controversies create incentives for leaders to project strength abroad when legitimacy is questioned at home—particularly in the cases of the USA and Israel. Escalation abroad often substitutes for accountability at home. This is not about the guilt or innocence of any individual leader. It is about the dangerous intersection of power, pressure and impunity. When leaders operate in environments where accountability is weak, where international law is selectively applied and where global institutions hesitate to act, the cost is almost always borne by civilians: by families in Gaza and Kashmir, children in Iranian classrooms, farmers in south Lebanon and the displaced in Syria. Across all these fronts, the common thread is human cost. Laws matter because people matter. When a school is bombed—whether in Gaza, Iran or elsewhere—the world loses more than lives. It loses futures, dreams and the quiet hopes that parents carry for their children. When leaders are assassinated in unprovoked violence, societies lose stability and dialogue. When borders are crossed with missiles instead of diplomacy, the space for peace narrows. And yet, amid the rubble and grief, the people of the region show resilience. Families rebuild, children return to classrooms and communities mourn together while continuing forward. But resilience is no substitute for justice and endurance is not a replacement for accountability. The international community faces a choice: to reinforce laws that protect civilians and restrain states or allow a dangerous precedent of impunity to take root. In moments when the world’s legal and moral compass falters, nations must decide not only where they stand today but how they will be remembered tomorrow. For Pakistan, a country born from struggle, sacrifice and belief in justice, the path should be clear. Our leaders must anchor themselves on the side of international law, human dignity and civilian protection. History does not forgive silence in the face of suffering nor honor those who bend principles to please the powerful. It remembers those who stood with the oppressed, defended the rule of law when endangered and refused to let geopolitical pressure outweigh moral clarity. At a time when the Middle East is burning and the global order trembles, Pakistan must choose the side of justice, legality and humanity—because that is the side future generations will thank us for. —The writer is Ex-Chairman, National Disaster Management Authority.