Today, the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF) issued its 2013 Annual Report, focusing on Pakistan and 28 other countries around the world, including Afghanistan.  As an independent U.S. government advisory body separate from the State Department, USCIRF's Annual Report identifies violations of religious freedom, as defined by international conventions, and provides policy recommendations to the President, the Secretary of State, and the Congress. 

Based on our monitoring over the past year, we have concluded that the situation in Pakistan is one of the worst in the world. 

The report found that "sectarian and religiously-motivated violence is chronic, especially against Shi'a Muslims, and the government has failed to protect members of religious minority communities, as well as the majority faith."  An array of repressive laws, including the much abused blasphemy law and religiously discriminatory anti-Ahmadi laws, foster an atmosphere of violent extremism and vigilantism.  The growth of militant groups espousing a violent religious ideology that undertake attacks impact all Pakistanis and threatens the country's security and stability. 

In the face of increasing attacks against Shi'as and consistent violence against other minorities, Pakistani authorities have failed to provide protection and have not consistently brought perpetrators to justice or taken action against societal actors who incite violence. 

In light of these particularly severe violations, USCIRF recommends that Pakistan be designated a "country of particular concern," or CPC, by the U.S. Department of State for these systematic, ongoing and egregious violations of religious freedom.  The CPC designation is a special blacklist created when Congress passed and President Bill Clinton signed in 1998 the International Religious Freedom Act. Unlike some other ‘blacklists,' the CPC designation does not carry any specific penalties for the countries on the list. What it does do is assign a framework through which U.S. officials can encourage the designated country's government to address the egregious violations of religious freedom.  This can come in the form of a binding roadmap of agreed actions, a waiver, or punitive steps if progress is lacking.

Countries currently named by the State Department include: Burma, China, Eritrea, Iran, North Korea, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, and Uzbekistan. Pakistan represents the worst situation in the world for religious freedom for countries not currently designated as "countries of particular concern," and USCIRF has concluded it overwhelmingly meets the threshold established in the Act. 

The facts speak for themselves.  As the report states:

The Pakistani government failed to effectively intervene against a spike in targeted violence against the Shi'a Muslim minority community, as well as violence against other minorities.  With elections scheduled for May 2013, additional attacks against religious minorities and candidates deemed "unIslamic" will likely occur. Chronic conditions remain, including the poor social and legal status of non-Muslim religious minorities and the severe obstacles to free discussion of sensitive religious and social issues faced by the majority Muslim community.  The country's blasphemy law, used predominantly in Punjab province but also nationwide, targets members of religious minority communities and dissenting Muslims and frequently results in imprisonment.  USCIRF is aware of at least 16 individuals on death row and 20 more serving life sentences.  The blasphemy law, along with anti-Ahmadi laws that effectively criminalize various practices of their faith, has created a climate of vigilante violence.  Hindus have suffered from the climate of violence and hundreds have fled Pakistan for India.  Human rights and religious freedom are increasingly under assault, particularly women, members of religious minority communities, and those in the majority Muslim community whose views deemed "un-Islamic." The government has proven unwilling or unable to confront militants perpetrating acts of violence against other Muslims and religious minorities. 

Designating Pakistan as a CPC would make religious freedom a key element in the bilateral relationship and start a process to encourage Islamabad to undertake needed reforms. 

There are a range of issues that should be on the bilateral agenda, whether or not Pakistan is designated a CPC. The U.S. government should include discussions on religious freedom and religious tolerance in U.S.-Pakistan strategic dialogues and summits, as well as urge Pakistan to protect religious minorities from violence and actively prosecute those committing acts of violence against Shi'as, Ahmadis, Christians, Hindus, and others; unconditionally release individuals currently jailed for blasphemy; repeal or reform the blasphemy law; and repeal anti-Ahmadi laws.   The United States can also highlight to the new government how the Federal Ministry for National Harmony is an institution unique among other nations, and maintaining it would keep a partner to discuss ways to promote religious tolerance and freedom.  For sure, none of these are easy, so naming as a CPC would cut through the distractions and help create the political will to act.

The situation in Pakistan is acute, with the increasing violence against diverse religious communities and a system of laws that violate human rights.  With a new government soon coming to power, there is a unique opportunity to work together to confront these threats to Pakistan.  At the same time, negative pressures could tilt the new government in the wrong direction.  For instance, the Pakistani Taliban's targeting of "secular politicians" could give traction to their offer from late 2012 to cease violence in exchange for constitutional amendments to install their religious vision over the country. The CPC process would support Pakistanis who want a better future for their country and counterbalance these pressures -- if the Pakistani government fails to address these issues concretely, penalties could follow after a CPC designation. 

The United States is Pakistan's only friend that has the heft and desire to encourage it to tackle these difficult challenges.  For sure, the U.S.-Pakistani relationship is complicated and designating a CPC would likely complicate things further.  However, to protect all Pakistanis, these issues cannot be ignored and must be confronted and addressed. 

Knox Thames is the Director of Policy and Research at the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom.  Any personal views expressed are his own and may or may not reflect the views of the commission. He can be followed on Twitter @thames22.

Just after Christmas, the Pakistani Taliban (Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan or TTP) offered a peace deal of sorts to the Pakistani government.  In exchange for a cessation of TTP violence, they demanded Pakistan's constitution be brought into conformity with their version of Islamic law and the government break ties with the United States.  In response, a senior Pakistani government official reportedly called the offer "preposterous." 

Yet it may not be, especially regarding the implementation of religious law.  Similar demands were met in 2009 after the TTP took the Swat valley, with the Pakistani government giving away these very rights.  The local government led by the Awami National party agreed to establish sharia law in Swat and the broader Malakand Division, which was approved by the national parliament and signed by President Zardari.  It was only when the Pakistani Taliban pushed for more territorial gains that the government responded with force of arms.  If past is prologue, the government may bend to get a deal now. 

However, the status quo arguably meets TTP demands regarding religious law, as much of what they seek already exists -  Islamic law plays a major role in governance, and militants are free to violently force their religious interpretations on the population. 

This slide towards religious governance goes back to the country's founding.  From the outset, the Objectives Resolution of 1949, which preceded the first of several constitutions, tilted Pakistan towards an Islamic state where citizens and their rights were defined by religion.  This occurred despite Jinnah's famous speech two years earlier to the Constituent Assembly, in which he said, "You are free to go to your temples, you are free to go to your mosques or to any other place or worship in this State of Pakistan. You may belong to any religion or caste or creed -- that has nothing to do with the business of the State."  The Objectives Resolution went in a different direction, and while it recognized the presence of religious minorities, it only promised "adequate provision" of basic rights, while defining the entire state in Islamic terms. Constitutions that followed built off and expanded this foundation.

The biggest leaps came from Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, Pakistan's secular Prime Minister from 1973-1977, and General Zia ul Haq's reign from 1978-1988.  Under Bhutto, the Ahmadis were effectively outlawed through constitutional changes that created a definition of a Muslim that excluded Ahmadis.  The constitution was also amended to establish the Council of Islamic Ideology to advise on whether proposed laws are compatible with Islam.  Not considered particularly devout, he took these and other steps to shore-up his flagging political fortunes, currying the support of religious leaders. 

Zia went even further, setting into place much of what the TTP wants today, changing both statutory law and constitutional provisions.  He amended the blasphemy law, a colonial era holdover, and increased the penalty to include death, but without requiring the provision of evidence.  This alone has had far-reaching effects.  The U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF) where I work knows of at least 17 people on death row in Pakistan for blasphemy and 20 others serving life sentences. Many more are in jail awaiting trial or appeal.  The surprising outcome of the Rimsha Masih case is an exception to the sad norm.

In addition, Zia altered the penal code to criminalize the basic acts of the Ahmadi faith. He amended the constitution to create the Federal Shariat Court to review legislation that may conflict with sharia law, creating an unclear legal structure that appears to run parallel to or oversee the secular system. In addition, Zia Islamicized the education system, the banking system, and the penal system through the Hudood ordinances. 

And today, for what the law does not forbid (which is much), militants have free reign to impose their religious views at the point of a gun. 

This was shockingly evident last week, with the January 10 attack that killed 81 Shi'a Muslims in twin bombings in a Shiite area of Quetta.   The attack was tragically predictable, as the targeting of Shia Muslims steadily increased throughout 2012, with rights groups estimating (before this attack) more than 400 murdered.  The TTP, and fellow travelers like Lashkar-e-Jhangvi, regularly claim responsibility.  Human rights organizations continue to criticize government inaction, but the body count keeps rising. 

Another case in point is the TTP murder of Shahbaz Bhatti, the Federal Minister of Minority Affairs and the only Christian in Zardari's cabinet.  Working bravely against the blasphemy law, the TTP answered Shahbaz's efforts in 2010 by assassinating him steps from his mother's Islamabad home in broad daylight.  The TTP were so brazen as to leave fliers at the scene claiming responsibility, but no one has been held accountable and the investigation fizzled. 

Ahmadis continue to suffer discrimination, abuse, and violence.  80 Ahmadis were killed in May 2010 when two of their mosques were attacked by the TTP.  Violence continues today throughout the country - in July of this year the president of a local Ahmadi community outside Karachi was murdered and in December over 100 Ahmadi graves desecrated in Lahore. Hindus too are among the victims of Pakistan's climate of intolerance. The forced conversion and marriage of Hindu girls has increased in Sindh Province, and in 2012 upwards of 250 Pakistani Hindus from Sindh and Baluchistan Provinces have migrated to India to avoid increasing violence.  Christians remember the violence of Gojra in 2009, where an entire village was burned to the ground and no one held to account, and last year the National Commission for Justice and Peace found nine places of worship were damaged, destroyed or vandalized, including 5 churches and 3 Hindu temples. 

Clearly, the Pakistani Taliban's demand for enforcement of their version of Islamic law is not far from reality.  In the current environment, Pakistani law is used to enforce religious views, and militants act with impunity against those they consider un-Islamic.  Both the majority Muslim population and minority religious communities are at risk.  Pakistan's active civil society must continually retreat and retrench to protect the small openings for peaceful debate and human rights work.  Consequently, the very fabric of Pakistan is being torn, and if this "preposterous" ask is implemented, it could unravel more.

Knox Thames is the Director of Policy and Research at the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom. The views expressed here are his own and may or may not reflect the views of the Commission. He can be followed on Twitter @thames22.

Jamila's screams tore through the sky, travelling the deep lengths of haunting silence guarded by military men at River Neelum. She wanted to grab her son, Ali Ahmad, from the other side of the border and run. Instead, Jamila saw him being dragged away by Indian soldiers, away from the river, away from the border, away from her sight. The cross-border meeting time was over.

Ali Ahmad is 20 years old and was raised in the disputed territory of Jammu and Kashmir by one of his mother's relatives, who had looked after him since he was an infant. He was left or forgotten on the Indian side of the border when his mother was swept up in the mad rush to flee to Pakistan during the violence of the early 90s. He now lives and studies in New Delhi, and made the long journey to the border for the rare opportunity to see his mother. In fact, it was the rarest of opportunities, as she stood in front of him for the first time across the border at River Neelum -- also known as Kishanganga -- that splits the Kashmir region between India and Pakistan; the place where all the wars in his life began.

Jamila still lives in the beautiful, isolated valley of Pakistan-controlled Kashmir very near to the Line of Control (LoC) that divides the two countries and continues to be their single most threatening bone of contention.

"Return my son", she pleaded as people held her from trying to cross over the river. "Forgive me for leaving India. I was scared. Please return my son before I die."

Jamila uttered gibberish and let go of her last scream, before the sun slipped behind the dark green mountains splitting Kehran into what Pakistanis generally call ‘Azad [free] and Occupied Kashmir.'

For 20 years, Jamila had waited to meet her son, attempted to reach him, and since the recent initiation of cross border permits, has made dozens of visits to the permit office. All to no avail. Her application to cross the border has never been rejected, "they don't reject or give a reason for delay. They just don't grant us the permit," Jamila later told the AfPak Channel. "I have been trying for several years, and have spent hundreds of thousands of rupees just making incessant visits to the office, sometimes bribing officials who never really helped. Those who do get their permits must be really lucky, but I have never met anyone like that."

Jamila has no family on the Pakistani side of the border. Her father and husband were killed during the massacres of the 1990s in Indian-held Kashmir a few months after her marriage. The Indian army is accused of committing thousands of extra-judicial killings, and "stories of arrests, torture, killings, and secret burials were rife in Kashmir" at the time.

Jamila's town of Zachaldara, Handwara in North Kashmir's Kupwara district was infamous for such violence, and her "only hope was to escape." Her son was just a year old when she decided to go to Pakistan with a group from her village that was "fleeing to Azad Kashmir for freedom." "It sounded like a miraculous imagination, a dream, at that time to be able to live freely," Jamila said. "But freedom is pointless if it separates you from your own child." Today she is 45 but looks a decade older, perhaps aged by a lifelong desperation to live with her son again.

"I want to see him graduate from college and find a nice girl to marry. For years I have dressed him for school in my head and I have imagined tucking him to bed. But like the dreams we have had of freedom in Azad Kashmir, these dreams I have for him are not real and I fear they shall never become." She says she is "very tired" and fears dying from this wait.

What do Kashmiris want?
It seems for many Kashmiris that there is nothing more horrible than having a family and knowing that you will never meet them. Jamila is one of thousands of such Kashmiris in Pakistan, who are now speaking out about their issues through protests and demonstrations. On July 10^th and August 5^th of this year protesters gathered on both the Pakistan-controlled (Azad) and Indian-controlled sides of Kashmir bordering the Neelum Valley, and caught the attention of local and foreign media outlets. Chanting in demand for freedom from the armed forces of the two countries, they held banners that said "India, Pakistan, leave us alone." "Kashmir belongs to Kashmiris," and "Kashmir is burning, leave us alone."

Among the various difficulties that Azad Kashmiris face when trying to meet with their families on the other side of the border, the topmost include: (a) being unable to communicate with their relatives either via mobile phones or land lines; (b) being unable to send and receive mail, letters and packages, "It is also commonplace, that our mails and letter never really reach our families on the other side, and if they ever do, they are always open," pointed out Jamila; and (c) being unable to commute and meet their families across border.

The question is, why do these Kashmiris have to gather in dissent when India and Pakistan seem to be having rather healthy negotiations and agreeing on confidence building measures (CBMs) that often focus on relaxing regulations for Kashmiris? Kashmiris are now nominally permitted to meet their families as often as three times per year, for as long as 30 days per visit. And Kashmir now has five transit routes at the LoC for Kashmiri-born traders.

The most recent CBMs discussed by the two countries have resulted in landmark developments, including increasing the number of trading points along the Line of Control, increasing the number of days on which trading can occur, the launching of a new bus service to operate via new routes between northwestern Pakistan-occupied Kashmir and southern Indian-occupied Kashmir, and an increase in the frequency of the bus service between Muzaffarabad (the capital of Pakistan-controlled Kashmir) and Srinagar (the capital of Indian-controlled Kashmir). However, there is clearly a vast different between agreeing to a policy and implementing it on ground.

Local analyst and professor Khalil Sajjad, who works in the Peace Studies department at the University of Azad Jammu and Kashmir, believes that CBMs are merely a marketing tool to flaunt improving relations between India and Pakistan, and are not really delivering on the promises made to Kashmiris. "Even though new developments such as re-opening and regularizing of bus routes seems to provide unstinting opportunity to traders and people, if thousands of families have still been unable to meet their relatives for the past two decades, then in essence the impermeability is intact."

The core issue: Who gets the cross border permits?
Jamila is one of the approximately 10,000 applicants who have been seeking cross border permits since 2005. There are no exact numbers on how many applicants actually receive permits every year. The bus using the route between Chakoti in Pakistan-controlled Kashmir and Srinagar in Indian-controlled Kashmir carries around 40 passengers every Monday. Major Iftikhar from the Chakoti Military check post says, "90% of valid applicants get their permits. Only those declined by our verification procedure have to wait."

The verification procedure is long, and includes various levels of checks and double-checks. When applications are submitted, the individual's biographical details are initially verified by different government departments. "If their records are clean, we then give these details to about five agencies that are part of the Inter-Services Intelligence Directorate (ISI)," Major Iftikhar told the AfPak Channel. "We are very careful with who we are allowing to the other side of the border. This develops a feeling of neglect and hostility among many applicants who await permits, but we need to be fastidious since our relation with India is still very sensitive" he added.

Trade Facilitation Officer Mubarak Abass, who manages the Chakoti Crossing Point and looks after the Srinagar-Muzaffarabad bus service on the Pakistani side, says "40 percent of the total permits are currently pending. Many applications are held because they do not qualify the verification procedure. Some submissions are incomplete; others are marked red based on security concerns. For example, if we find the applicant to have suspicious links or the data submitted by candidates is unverifiable then we hold such applications. One needs to be chary of the risks involved."

Are these limitations violating civil rights? Broadcast journalist Aurangzeb Jarral, who works for the private national channel Dunya TV, says, "[the most] genuine and the most bland applicants with unblemished records don't get their permits. I have met and interviewed many people who have nothing to do with militancy or have the thinnest possibility of something mistrustful, but they don't get their permits for years if not decades. This is a clear-cut abuse of human rights, when the government has a system in place just for these people but they are still not able to avail it. Many of them die waiting."

According to Wadood Ahmed, who is currently conducting academic research on the Kashmir conflict, "It is tacit knowledge that India and Pakistan do not want to provide absolute cross-border access to Kashmiris on either side. And Kashmiris on both sides of the border are well aware of this. More than any militancy threats, the real fear has to do with a fair people's access." For India, the fear is that more Kashmiris coming from the Pakistani side may create pressure for freedom, and in the worst-case scenario, they may join liberation armies in Indian-held Kashmir. For Pakistan, the fear is of spies sent by the Indian government. "As long as India and Pakistan want to hold on to their sides of Kashmir, neither of them will provide fare permits freely, even to the most authentic families/candidates."

Indian journalist Jahangir Ali told the AfPak Channel, "An old lady died in July this year of cancer. She had communicated her last wish to the [Indian] government; it was to meet her son. Her daughter and family tried to urge the government to let her son come to meet her from Pakistan. The government refused to give him the cross border permit. It was heart breaking to watch her die without seeing him. What good are such CBMs if they can't be serviced for genuine cases like this?"

Does this mean that India and Pakistan are only nominally applying the CBMs? Is Kashmir just a convenient rallying point for both countries? And is there is a strong interest on both sides of the border in keeping Kashmir alive?

"Look, absolute peace is really not in the interest of either of the two countries," researcher Wadood Ahmed told this author. "Neither of them wants to see Kashmiris independent because that would mean [one] of them loses their territory." Both governments have failed to provide the populace with welfare, development or infrastructure. Visa permits are just one example of how the two states continue to put off the difficult task of giving Kashmiris' their right to self-determination while giving the world the impression that real progress is being made.

Kiran Nazish is a journalist based in Pakistan, currently covering the country's conflict areas to report on issues of human rights. She can be followed @kirannazish.

When the U.S. and Afghan governments signed a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) on handing over Bagram jail and its detainees, both of the governments and the media -- including myself -- saw the agreement as a real transfer of sovereignty and a victory for President Karzai. Now I am much less sure. It seems a system may be emerging where the gains in sovereignty are illusory and, though there is an Afghan face on security detentions, the U.S. military remains in control. 

There is another twist to the handover of Bagram prison, which is officially known as the Detention Facility in Parwan -- or DFiP. The MoU committed the Afghan state to using detention without trial for some security prisoners and both the United States and Afghanistan have moved swiftly to set up the system for doing this. However, the government denies having made any such commitment. The Presidential spokesman, Aimal Faizi, was unequivocal:

We signed the MoU... mainly to put an end to detentions without trial because they are not in accordance to the Afghan laws... The President has always been absolutely against detentions without trial and this is his stance today as well... We have not signed or agreed anything which allows detentions without trial.

The Bagram MoU was a response to President Karzai's ultimatum in January 2012 that the United States had a month to hand over both prison and inmates after reports of maltreatment. This MoU -- along with a second one on Afghan-izing special operations (dealing with the especially sensitive topic of night raids) -- were pre-conditions on the Afghan side for the signing of the Strategic Partnership Agreement, which the United States wanted in place before the recently-held NATO summit in Chicago. 

The United States was worried about the possible release of men whom it considers the most dangerous in detention, as the 3,000 odd people currently held by the U.S. military without trial in Bagram could well be considered illegally incarcerated under Afghan law. Hence the Afghan and U.S. negotiators took recourse to the Laws of Armed Conflict. Both MoUs cite the 1977 Second Additional Protocol to the Geneva Conventions (APII) as the legal basis for detention without trial. APII acknowledges that when a state is fighting a war, it may deprive its citizens of "their liberty for reasons related to the armed conflict."

Is it possible that President Karzai might not have understood what using APII entailed? The English version of the Bagram MoU says only that the Afghan government would be using "administrative detention" at Bagram, but the Dari version is more specific. It is "gheiri qazayi", or non-judicial, and the Afghan president's legal advisor confirmed at the time this would be without trial. A presidential decree on the handover also appears to have been passed. A reference to an undated, un-numbered, and as far as I know as yet unpublished decree appears in another document -- the (also unpublished) Procedure for the Transition and Management of Bagram[i] -- which was signed by the ministers of justice, interior, and defense, the head of Afghan intelligence (the NDS), the head of the Supreme Court, and the Attorney General on March 3 (read a translation here). The Procedure also cites APII. It is possible that the Afghan government does not want to admit it is now using internment because it would be politically unpopular, or because using APII means implicitly acknowledging that Afghanistan is fighting a civil war.

Getting information on what exactly is happening at Bagram is difficult, but from interviewing those involved in the handover, none of whom would speak on the record, and after getting hold of the Procedure, it has been possible to paint a fuller picture.

The mechanisms for handing over the prison have been rapidly established. Since at least mid-April, the U.S. military has been passing on detainees' case files (in English, with Dari translation) at a rate of 30-40 a day to an Afghan technical committee (made up of representatives from the ministries of interior and defense, from the NDS, Supreme Court and Attorney General's office). The Committee sends cases with prosecutable evidence to NDS for trial under Afghan criminal law. The remaining case files are passed to a review board (made up of representatives from the ministries of interior, defense, and NDS) which, for just over a week, has either assented to continued detention without trial, if it believes the individual is a continuing security threat, or has recommended release. There is no detail about the nature of the required evidence here, but according to the Procedure, continued detention can be ordered even if the Board believes the prisoner is only a "potential supporter of an armed group engaged in hostilities against the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan or international forces."  

If the review board recommends release, the file is sent back to the Bagram Transfer Commission (made up of five ministers), which can order a release. However, if the U.S. military believes an individual continues to be a terrorist threat, the MoU says this assessment should be "consider[ed] favourably." Such an (apparent) veto on release may not seem unreasonable given the way detainees frequently use influence, bribes, or intimidation to secure their freedom once inside the Afghan justice system. Still, it does not look like a transfer of sovereignty.

There are other indications that the U.S. military may still retain control. After initially reading the MoU, I assumed, like others (including the BBC) that, after six months, Bagram and its detainees would be handed over, once and for all, to the Afghans. The MoU says:

The United States Commander at the DFIP is to retain responsibility for the detainees held by the United States at the DFIP under the Law of Armed Conflict during the processing and transfer period, which is not to last more than six months. (Article 6c)

Re-reading all the documents and interviews, I rather think the U.S. military may intend to also have the option of retaining control of each freshly detained person for a maximum of six months before transferring him to the Afghan authorities. When asked about this, the U.S. embassy spokesman would only say: "We have nothing further for you on this topic at this time."

One can well imagine a scenario in which Afghan forces, working with the U.S. military, knock down the doors of Afghan homes and make the arrests (as per the second MoU on special operations), but the detainees, if considered interesting, stay in U.S. custody. The United States would still control initial detention, classification, and release, but the Afghan government would be in the firing line, either under pressure from the relatives of detainees wanting their people freed or criticized on human rights grounds relating to indefinite detention and the lack of legal recourse to evidence, independent counsel, and the like.

Now that the legal doors to internment have been opened, one can also imagine detention without trial spreading to other Afghan facilities. This must be a concern, given the many abuses, including torture, already staining the Afghan justice system, particularly for security detainees.  

The new arrangements in Bagram are not yet set in stone. The MoU itself makes clear that, "this arrangement is subject to review as part of the Bilateral Security Agreement to be negotiated between the Participants after the signing of the Strategic Partnership." Up till now, however, voices of protest about the nature of the handover have been few.  One belongs to MP Shukria Barakzai, chair of the Afghan Lower House Defense Committee, who has questioned the very legality of detention without trial. Otherwise, the start of the state interning its citizens has taken place quietly, with almost no comment in the media or in parliament.  Afghans are simply not aware of their loss of one of the most fundamental rights - for a prisoner to have his or her day in court.  The opportunity for an honest debate on detention without trial is not yet over, but there are no signs yet of the discussion even beginning.

Kate Clark is the senior analyst at the Afghanistan Analysts Network and is based in Kabul.

[i] ‘The Procedure for Transition and Management of Bagram Detention Facility and Pul-e Charkhi Detention Facility from the United States of America to the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan'

In recent days, details have emerged about the Pakistani government's pursuit of Internet filtering technologies that would enable it to block up to 50 million websites. This news comes just weeks after a parliamentary committee proposed a ban on "anti-Pakistan" programming on private television stations.

Pakistan's media may be feisty (the country's private television channels are often stridently anti-government in tone), but feisty does not necessarily mean free. In its 2011-12 Press Freedom Index, Reporters Without Borders ranks Pakistan 151^st out of 179 nations. The country's culture of violence toward the media is the main reason for this low ranking, but state policies threaten media freedoms as well. Because the rapid and relatively recent expansion of the Pakistani press has not been accompanied by checks on its excesses, media-muzzling measures have effectively become proxies for regulation.

It wasn't always this way. For years, Pakistan's television media environment was dominated by the staid, state-run Pakistan Television. Not until the early 2000s did the nation experience a sudden and explosive proliferation of private cable and satellite TV outlets-the result of a liberalization regime initiated by then-President Pervez Musharraf, who, according to some observers, sought alternatives to the Indian satellite television channels watched by many Pakistanis at the time. Today, Pakistan boasts about 90 private television channels and more than 100 radio stations, but only one media oversight entity: the Pakistan Media Regulatory Authority, which falls under the information minister's purview and is widely regarded as ineffective.

What has this pell-mell transition wrought? First, it has produced a vibrant media environment that strengthens Pakistani democracy. It has also promoted civic activism; Pakistani television networks helped catalyze the anti-government fervor that erupted following Musharraf's firing of the country's chief justice in 2007.

Yet it has also unleashed a torrent of ugly content. This ranges from sloppy reporting (The News' coverage of the Congressional hearings on Balochistan earlier this year misidentified a witness, M. Hossein Bor, as a Congressman) to unethical practices (newspaper articles frequently print names, phone numbers, and even addresses of vulnerable citizens such as human rights activists and rape victims, and print journalists are often accused of plagiarism).

Then there is sensationalism. The recent exploits of Maya Khan and Shamoon Abbasi-TV personalities who, with cameras rolling, sought to expose dating couples frolicking in parks and lovers engaged in homosexual activities-have attracted considerable attention. Yet there is also popular TV personality Meher Bokhari, who berated and bullied the late Punjab Province governor Salman Taseer in a 2010 interview. One observer concluded that the interview whipped up such hatred that it contributed indirectly to Taseer's assassination just weeks later. Oftentimes, however, politicians drive the sensationalism. A senior leader from Imran Khan's party once hurled a glass at a fellow guest during a Business TV talk show. And just last month, an official from Musharraf's party appearing on Express News issued a death threat to a co-panelist-with no intervention from the host or producer.   

Perhaps the most troubling consequence of Pakistan's unregulated press is the erosion of the line separating fact and fiction. In late 2010, the Express Tribune published a horrifying story about Shamsul Anwar, a soldier-turned-taxi driver. Anwar claimed that two of his sons were kidnapped by militants, with one killed and the other released-only to be diagnosed with cancer, which Anwar had no money to treat. About a year later, The News published an update: not only was the son still in need of medical care, but Anwar reported that his daughter had now been abducted as well.

In January 2012, Anwar admitted that his story was a hoax-concocted, he said, to swindle money from sympathetic readers. Sehrish Wasif, who wrote the initial article, said she hoped the affair would be "a lesson to all journalists, including myself, to not let emotion be the guiding force of a news report." Yet the real blame lies with the anything-goes, report-everything media environment that Anwar so skillfully exploited. The murky distinction between truth and untruth also hovered over the coda to the Khan and Abbasi affairs, when both journalists claimed that their offending segments had actually been staged. And it loomed large in 2010, when several media reports insinuated (with little evidence) that a famous 2009 video of a girl getting publicly flogged in Taliban-occupied Swat was actually a fabrication orchestrated by paid actors.

Islamabad rarely responds to media shenanigans with carefully targeted interventions. Instead, it casts a wide net and resorts to outright bans. In 2010 the government temporarily outlawed Facebook and YouTube (for anti-Islamic content), while in recent months it unsuccessfully attempted to filter 1,500 words out of mobile-based text messaging-including incendiary terms such as "athlete's foot" and "finger food." 

These draconian measures are driven as much by political fears as by concerns about better-quality media. Tellingly, the announcements about Web filtering technologies and curbs on anti-Pakistan TV programming were made at a time when national coverage about Balochistan, a province rife with anti-government sentiment and separatist ambitions, has been on the rise. Rolling Stone's website has been inaccessible in Pakistan since July 2011, when it posted a story critical of the army's budgetary spending. And only in the last few days has the government overturned a four-month ban on BBC World News, which aired a documentary last November questioning Pakistan's willingness to tackle militancy.

Encouragingly, Pakistan's media and civil society have taken steps toward promoting regulation. According to Sahar Habib Ghazi of the citizen journalism portal Hosh Media, many small media outlets voluntarily follow the Society of Professional Journalists' code of conduct. The Huffington Post has spotlighted Citizens for Free and Responsible Media, comprised of Pakistanis "who regularly monitor and discuss" national media content. Other promising efforts, however, have lapsed. These include an attempt by Dawn News journalist Matiullah Jan to launch a TV show that singles out unethical behavior in the media. The show was cancelled after 12 episodes, and Jan acknowledged resistance "from the highest levels of the media industry."

This resistance to such ombudsman-like arrangements underscores a basic reality (and one not unique to Pakistan): Sensationalism sells. Criticism of questionable Pakistani media practices tends to emenate from other media professionals, and not from the general public. Media experts contend that news programming -- which produces the most outrageous content -- is more popular with Pakistani audiences than entertainment offerings.

Fortunately, there is another way to improve Pakistani media standards: Bettering the lot of the average journalist. In 2011, for the second year in a row, the Committee to Protect Journalists designated Pakistan as the most dangerous country for reporters. Yet their bravery often goes unrewarded. "It's alright to keep your employees starving while you sip champagne and devour caviar in the comfort of your many mansions," a bitter Pakistani journalist fumed last month about the country's media magnates. Even Taseer, who owned the Daily Times, was excoriated for his staff management; one critic alleged that his workers did not get paid "for months on end" or received only half their salaries. Meanwhile, according to Dawn columnist Huma Yusuf, most of Pakistan's 17,000 journalists have little relevant training; less than 1 percent of the labor force is trained in media or communication studies at the college level.

Expecting powerful media titans to take the lead in regulating their output quality may be expecting too much. A more realistic expectation is that they simply help their employees. Momentum is building for such measures; last week, the Media Commission of Pakistan, a media rights watchdog, released a report demanding that journalists be provided with health and life insurance. By offering more competitive salaries, providing training opportunities, and improving journalists' general well-being, media bigwigs can help make their staffs happier and more productive. Better compensated and trained journalists are more likely to practice their craft ethically and responsibly-thereby setting an example worthy of emulation by their bosses.

Michael Kugelman is the South Asia associate at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars. He can be reached by email at michael.kugelman@wilsoncenter.org and on Twitter @michaelkugelman

Afghanistan is ruled not by law, but by power and patronage. The absence of the rule of law fuels the country's savage insurgency. When citizens can't rely on the state to protect them against systemic abuses, then rebellion becomes a far more attractive option. Tragically, in Afghanistan the abusers, more often than not, are from the government itself - including ministers, governors, police chiefs and militia leaders.

It needn't be this way. If there is one policy reform that all the main actors in Afghanistan purport to agree on, it's the critical importance of building the rule of law. President's Karzai's speeches are liberally salted with promises to reform the legal system and tackle corruption. The Taliban understands that a key way to win Afghans' hearts and minds is to provide them with the justice they so desperately desire. It does so by setting up mobile courts, delivering a very rough and ready justice, but one that is often preferred to the arbitrary rule of local commanders. And Western governments have spent billions on rule of law reforms, with little tangible impact.

So with this apparent unanimity on the need for the rule of law, why in Afghanistan do the powerful continue to abuse the weak with near total impunity?

The answer is that the purported commitment is largely in name only. True rule of law requires laws that are public, clear, and apply equally to everyone. It needs government officials who accept that they are subject to the law. It requires reasonably fair, competent, and efficient courts, prosecutors and police who respect the presumption of innocence and due process. It needs judges who are reasonably independent and impartial, and have the confidence in their safety to properly perform their jobs.

But the reforms necessary to achieve all this present an existential threat to the power of the ruling elite in Afghanistan. Building the rule of law involves challenging vested interests at the highest levels of the government. It is far more a political exercise than a technical one. Many Afghan power holders -- from President Karzai downwards -- benefit from a patronage based system. It enables them to buy and maintain loyalty. Corruption is an integral part of such a system.

It's not just corruption that thrives in such an environment.  Equal treatment by the law requires that those who have committed atrocities against their people be held accountable for these crimes. Failure to do so promotes a climate in which the powerful continue to commit abuses with impunity. But in Afghanistan those responsible for grave human rights abuses continue to occupy positions of power. These include officials like Vice Presidents Mohammad Fahim and Karim Khalili, who face credible accusations of war crimes or crimes against humanity during the brutal civil war. They also include a generation of post-Taliban leaders -- such as the Minister of Tribal and Border Affairs, Asadullah Khaled, as well as powerful provincial governors allied to Western forces -- accused of serious human rights violations since 2001. A report soon to be released by the Afghan human rights commission -- if not blocked by the government -- will document many of the past crimes.

International intervention encouraged and promoted this impunity by returning to power warlords and commanders. Influential international actors continue to rely on alliances of convenience with these abusive power holders to promote perceived stabilization goals.

Meanwhile the Taliban also preys on the local population, and subjects those it is purporting to liberate from foreign occupation to horrendous abuses, including suicide bombings, assassinations and the use of civilians as human shields.

For Afghans, the tragic result is that today's reality is not much different from that of the last thirty years, and their lives are still dominated by powerful men with guns.

Achieving accountability is not a question of naïve aspiration: the culture of high-level impunity must be challenged, as failure to do so will undermine all other rule of law efforts and perpetuate an environment in which conflict will flourish. 

The culture will not change until some of those responsible for the worst abuses against the Afghan people are prosecuted. The best option would be for the government itself to pursue some of these abusers. This would increase its legitimacy in the eyes its people and would send a clear warning to those in authority and to those seeking to do deals with the government who believe they can continue to kill with impunity. It would also undermine one of the claimed attractions of the Taliban -- that it provides harsh, but fair, justice where none otherwise exists.

Unfortunately, there is no prospect of the government providing high-level justice. The Karzai administration has consistently opted for expediency over principle when it comes to accountability, most notably in enacting a law giving amnesty to former warlords. Most international actors have been largely silent on this law. In fact, it appears that a desire for a quick exit by NATO countries may have stifled all discussion of the critical need to link reconciliation with accountability and to tackle Afghanistan's longstanding culture of impunity.

But expediency will not promote stability, and a failure to build the rule of law will lead to more instability, not less. It will also ensure that Afghan power holders - government and Taliban alike - continue to commit abuses that shock the conscience of the international community and fuel the very instability that led, a decade ago, to such a costly international  intervention.

Nick Grono is the Deputy  President of the International Crisis Group.

In December 2010, frustrated, irate, and depressed at the uproar around the case of Aasia Bibi and the reticence of the Pakistani government in amending the Blasphemy Laws that had condemned her to death, I interviewed Pakistan's Federal Minister for Minorities and the ruling Pakistan People's Party (PPP) national assembly member Shahbaz Bhatti on the telephone. Bhatti, the man responsible for protecting Pakistan's minority groups, told me, "Many people are facing death threats and problems. They're in prison and are being killed extra-judicially. This law is being misused." Bhatti had just been named by President Zardari as the head of a committee to discuss the country's blasphemy laws. "They have their own opinion and they are free to express it, we have our own," Bhatti calmly replied to a query about the stance taken by the religious right-wing against amending the Blasphemy Laws, or pardoning Bibi.

Perhaps Bhatti himself didn't know that three months later that "right" would take the shape of an assassin's bullets that claimed his life outside his Islamabad residence.

Read on

While half of the world is on holiday and the other half is going through the Wikileaked documents or is wondering how to follow-up on the successes of the Kabul conference, the electoral campaign in Afghanistan for the September parliamentary elections is going ahead -- at least in parts of the country. The cities are covered in posters and banners, the newspapers carry campaign ads and the candidates in the provinces are trying to find ways around the limitations posed by security and powerful rivals. Listen to what some of the candidates and voters say, when talking about the elections.

I just resigned from my job to campaign. Because I don't have money to invite people to gatherings, I meet them individually. I am travelling to the villages and meeting the elders. And I am sure the youth will support me. I haven't printed any posters or banners yet because I can't afford it, but I hope to find a businessman or a donor who has the same political views as me and who will finance my campaign. I will also contact some of the TV stations where I have friends and ask them to invite me for interviews. I have learned this during the workshops that I attended; they taught us to use any source to achieve our goals. But the economic mafia won't support us, because they know that people like me won't work for their interests.... The competition in Kabul is between 98 women candidates, including famous parliamentarians, it is a challenging competition especially for those, like me, who are young and who are running for the first time.
Young female candidate from Kabul.

I am a candidate in Kabul -- not in my own province because I have not lived there for 20 years. I have the support of both my tribe and my party and I have 29 people campaigning for me. My program focuses on the rights of martyrs and disabled, the rights of refugees and IDPs, the rights of teachers and getting them insurance, telecommunication because many people complain that the mobile phone companies are stealing from them, the bombings by international forces, a fair distribution of scholarships among the groups and tribes, proper education requirements for senior officials, and the reinstatement of the old cadre that is sitting at home - they should be used because they are a force for good.... Many candidates only registered to see if they could make a deal; they bought the [copies of] voter cards that you need to register and they are now going around and offering to step down. I was called by one of the sitting MPs, he offered me $200,000 to step down in his favour, but I refused. It's a lot of money, but he made so much more while he was an MP.... Karzai and his people are working to get at least 140 MPs elected that will listen to them, because this Parliament bothered him a lot. There are people who are making lists for him, they are making deals with candidates who promise to be loyal and they are giving them money, at least $60,000. One of the government people asked to see me a few times, but I have not responded yet.... In Kabul there are more than 600 candidates, so normally you should be able to get elected with around 3,000 votes. That I can get easily. But I am worried about the fraud.
Kabul parliamentary candidate, originally from southwest Afghanistan

My sister is a candidate in the nation-wide kuchi constituency. She has already started her campaign: she has travelled to the north and visited Balkh, Samangan, Sarepol, those places. Later this week she will probably go to Jalalabad. Many people are coming to our house, they are looking for someone to represent them. The voters are disappointed with the MPs that got into Parliament last time; they just took the money and did nothing. The tribe is behind my sister, the people are behind her and the government is also looking favourably on her. They are not supporting her directly, but they are not against her candidacy.
Brother of a female kuchi candidate living in Kabul

One of the MPs asked me to work for him. I understood it was because of the elections and because I am close to one of the religious leaders in my area. He wanted me to arrange the support of this leader and he wanted me to travel to the province to convince people to vote for him again. I told him I could not leave my family, so he told me he no longer needed my services... When I was still with him I was present at some of the meetings. One day some elders came because their relatives had been detained and badly beaten. Two of the relatives had been sent to Pul-e Charkhi prison and they asked the MP to intervene. The MP told them he could get the prisoners released, but only if he was re-elected and that they should promise to vote for him. One of the elders promised, he said: "all of us will fill the boxes for you, even the Taliban will help." Another day a villager came who had no money. Three of his sons were detained and he asked the MP for help. But he didn't help him; without money or promises he doesn't help... There are other strategies as well: This MP encouraged ten people from other areas and other tribal groups to candidate themselves, so that the vote of his rivals would be split.
Voter in Kabul, originally from southern Afghanistan

Do you see that campaign poster? I know one of the relatives of that candidate. He told me that the candidate, who is a rich businessman, said that he will spend up to 3 million dollars, as long as he wins a seat in Parliament. Just imagine the amount of money you must be able to make as a Parliamentarian.
Voter from Kabul

I am a candidate in Kabul. My campaign has started -- mainly in the districts, because the city is so crowded with candidates that it is like a buzkashi field. It went well so far. I don't have much money and I don't have anyone promising that they will make me win, but many people said they would vote for me. I have learnt from watching the last two rounds of elections: When people promise me 1,000 votes, I count it as a hundred. People exaggerate and hope that you will promise them something in return, like building a school in their area. But for me every single vote is important.... I will register my candidate agents in the coming day, I already have the forms. Having observers is important, they can watch for fraud but they also represent votes. If they are your observer, they should also vote for you and encourage one or two others to do the same. So if you have 500 observers that could be 1,500 extra votes. I will mainly send them to the areas where I have a lot of support; it is a waste of someone's time to spend all day in a polling station where you get only 10 votes.... There will not be so much fraud in Kabul city, because there are too many candidates and observers. The worst will be Sorobi district, because of the security situation. It will be difficult to send observers there. So people can take the ballot boxes and stuff them, without anyone saying anything.
Female Kabul candidate, originally from northern Afghanistan

You need to have a lot of money to run for Parliament. Yesterday the going price was $10 per vote, but the price is already going up. In the provinces where there will be a lot of fraud, the candidates are watching each other. If one finds out that his rival has arranged 5,000 votes, he will try to get 6,000. When the first one finds out that the other is preparing for 6,000, he will raise his number as well. It will become more all the time.
Politician from Kabul

I can introduce you to some of the candidates, I know most of them, but I cannot vouch for them. They will probably not tell you the truth. You see, all the candidates are getting ready for fraud. Maybe one or two of the more interesting candidates will not participate in the fraud, but all the others are making the necessary preparations. The provincial council elections were still relatively okay, but I have no idea how we should analyze the next elections: they will probably be stuffing 1000 votes per box. Several of the candidates have made deals with the local Taliban who have agreed to help with the ballot stuffing. And in the areas where the Taliban has not agreed to help, there will be fighting. So there will be ballot stuffing there too, although not in the areas themselves. And the ECC has decided that they will try to make nobody upset this time around, so they will not say very much.
Voter from Baghlan

Every candidate has their own system of campaigning, one does it in this way, the other in that way. What my system is? I used to be a commander in a large private security company. I have a kind of a protocol with my former colleagues that they will vote for me. I think I can also make agreements with people in other security companies as well. Then there are many families in Kabul from my district. The other candidate from my district is very weak, so I am quite confident that I will get many votes from my tribe. All together I should be able to get enough votes to win a seat. My only concern is fraud; that others will buy votes or steal my votes.... I have handed out business cards with my picture and my details to everybody I know or meet. And I will be hanging big posters in the city, but not yet. I will wait until the end of the campaign, when the posters of others have been damaged or are no longer being noticed. Then I will put my posters up. I have an appointment at the studio later this afternoon to get my pictures taken. And I will have a page on Facebook. I will not do that myself but my friends will do it and they will write good things about me so that people will vote for me.... I know many foreigners, but those were work relations, not political relations. I don't know how to be in touch with the political foreigners. I am trying to find out if anyone is supporting the candidates with money.
Candidate in Kabul, originally from the Shomali

The head of the IEC in my province recruited two people from my district as civic educators, one man and one woman. He told them that they don't have to do anything, but that half their salary is his. So they earn half of $400 per month for three months for doing nothing.... During last year's election I was the DFC (district field coordinator) in my district. A representative of one of the candidates brought a big bag of voter cards and wanted to use all of them to vote for his candidate, but I didn't allow it. We worked with three people in my district. This year when we applied again, the provincial IEC head was changed and the new one told us he did not need us anymore. But it is our right. We worked very well and very cleanly.... One of my colleagues had to leave the district after the elections because the Taliban were threatening him, they detained his father and his brother and then he left. My other colleague also left, he is now in Kabul. He became afraid, because he is a head teacher. And I left the area a few years ago after the Taliban attack in my village. But still the three of us wanted to work in our district in the elections again.
Former DFC (electoral district field coordinator) from southern Afghanistan

There are 22 candidates in my district alone, including two big former commanders. Two or three of the candidates are not bad. The campaign manager of one of the commanders is also not a bad man. I know him from the past and he helped me a lot recently when I had problems with the security services. So when he asks me to come to the campaign meetings of the big commander I say "of course". I will go with him later this week to the campaign meeting in the mosque. But my vote is mine, I will give it to whom I want.
Voter from Paghman, Kabul province

For more reactions from the campaign trail, visit the Afghanistan Analysts Network, where Martine van Bijlert is co-director and where this was originally published.