The Supreme Court of Pakistan recently reopened a long-dormant chapter in the country’s history: the case for student unions. As a six-member constitutional bench deliberated the matter, the opinions expressed by its members revealed not only the complexity of the issue but also the enduring struggle to reconcile the promise of youthful leadership with the specter of campus unrest.
Justice Jamal Mandokhail struck an optimistic tone, pointing to the student union elections scheduled at Quaid-e-Azam University as a potential pilot project for the country. Yet, this hope was tempered by the concerns of Justice Hassan Azhar Rizvi, who cited the decades of violence at Karachi University that led to the deployment of paramilitary rangers. Justice Muhammad Ali Mazhar, meanwhile, cut through the debate with a simple but critical question: Are student unions inherently political? Must they be? His assertion that unions should focus on the welfare of students rather than partisan interests served as a reminder of their original intent.
The discussion inside the courtroom reflected a broader societal divide that has persisted since student unions were banned in 1984. For some, the mere mention of student unions conjures images of campus violence and political interference. For others, they symbolise the lost promise of leadership, civic engagement, and the empowerment of young people.
However, the discourse around student unions in Pakistan remains clouded by fear and a lack of nuance. University heads, many of whom hold foreign degrees and boast extensive global exposure, should be leading this charge. Instead, they equivocate, conflating unions with political gangs of the 1980s and 1990s. This reductionist thinking not only misrepresents what unions can be but also perpetuates the very problems it seeks to avoid. The resistance to unions often hinges on memories of past violence, such as the shadow of Karachi University – a stark reminder of what happens when student organisations become proxies for political parties. But this is a myopic view. The solution is not to abandon unions but to reform them. Universities must establish clear boundaries, enforce academic performance preconditions for union leaders, and ensure that unions operate within a framework of accountability. This is not an uncharted territory; it’s a path well-trodden by institutions worldwide.
The restoration of student unions, then, is not just an issue for campuses – it is a test of Pakistan’s willingness to invest in its youth, to prepare them for the messy and complicated work of leadership
Further, it is crucial to dispel the myth that banning unions eradicates politics from campuses; in reality, it merely drives it underground. The vacuum left by the officially sanctioned representation gets filled by ethnic councils and unsanctioned groups – entities that operate without accountability and often resort to intimidation and violence. These shadow organisations have turned campuses into battlegrounds, eroding the academic environment and leaving ordinary students caught in the crossfire. So, the question is not whether student activism will exist—it undoubtedly will. The real question is whether it will be guided by principles of democracy, inclusion, and welfare or left to fester unchecked.
In this context, Justice Amin ud Din Khan's description of student unions as a “nursery” for future leaders, a metaphor that gets to the heart of the debate, is especially pertinent. Nurseries require care, oversight, and trust. They are spaces for growth, not perfection. To dismiss student unions entirely because they may falter is to abandon the very idea of preparing young people for leadership. To illustrate this, consider the example of Scandinavian universities, where student unions are integral to university governance. These unions don’t just advocate for student welfare; they sit at the table where decisions are made, ensuring that policies reflect the needs and aspirations of the student body. This model is not about wielding unchecked power; it’s about partnership and shared responsibility.
So, why are Pakistan’s universities so reluctant to act? Some hide behind bureaucracy, endlessly forming committees and seeking guidance from the Higher Education Commission (HEC). Others argue that students’ interests are already represented by faculty or administration. But anyone familiar with the inner workings of university governance knows this is a convenient lie. Without students at the table, decision-making becomes opaque, unaccountable and often indifferent to the very people it is supposed to serve.
The decision-makers need to understand that what happened in Pakistan is not unique. Many countries have wrestled with the tension between youthful activism and institutional stability. The difference lies in how they responded. Instead of erasing student unions, they reformed them, setting boundaries that allowed these organisations to thrive while mitigating risks. While the concerns raised by a few Supreme Court justices are understandable, they are not impossible to address. The upcoming elections at Quaid-e-Azam University present a rare opportunity to experiment, learn, and build a framework that strikes a balance between student representation and campus harmony. Rather than seeing student unions solely as breeding grounds for political unrest, we should recognise their potential as platforms for leadership and innovation.
This shift in perspective requires collaboration across the government, universities, and the judiciary. Rather than banning or suppressing student unions, we can regulate them in a way that ensures they focus on issues that matter to students – mental health, academic reforms, campus safety, and inclusivity. With clear guidelines in place, student unions can evolve into spaces that empower young people, promote their growth, and allow them to contribute meaningfully to society. The goal should be to shape them into forces of positive change, not chaos, ensuring that the next generation of leaders is ready to face the challenges ahead.
This brings us to a deeper question: Do we, as a society, trust our youth? Do we believe in their ability to lead constructively and channel their energy toward progress rather than discord? Trust is a difficult thing to extend, especially in a country where political institutions often seem to thrive on chaos. But without it, we risk perpetuating a cycle of exclusion and disempowerment.
The restoration of student unions, then, is not just an issue for campuses – it is a test of Pakistan’s willingness to invest in its youth, to prepare them for the messy and complicated work of leadership. It is a leap of faith, yes, but one that acknowledges the inevitability of failure as part of growth. Now, the question is not whether student unions will stumble – they will. The question is whether we are willing to help them get back up.