Pakistan’s progressive legal framework often collides with a deep-rooted cultural mindset, creating a jarring paradox. What the law protects, society condemns. What the law forbids, society continues to normalise. The recent killing of a young couple in Balochistan, reportedly for eloping, is a tragic reminder of this persistent conflict. These are not isolated acts of violence but symptoms of a deeper struggle over authority, identity and autonomy.
Nowhere is this tension more visible than in matters of marriage. Legally, adults have the right to choose their life partners. Court marriages, which are consensual but without familial approval, are valid under the law. But culturally, particularly in tribal and conservative areas, love marriages are often perceived as acts of rebellion against family authority. This cultural aversion has little to do with legal validity and everything to do with perceived threats to collective “honour”.
This obsession with honour gives rise to the horrific practice of so-called honour killings. The term itself conceals the cruelty behind it. These murders are often portrayed as necessary to restore lost dignity, when in fact they are brutal punishments for asserting basic human rights. Despite legal reforms, including changes that prevent the victim’s family from pardoning the killer, enforcement remains weak. Community pressure from tribal elders or jirgas often discourages families from seeking justice. In some cases, the decision to kill is collective and calculated, rather than impulsive or isolated and murderers often receive heroic reception from the communities.
This happens not because the law is unclear, but because parallel systems of power and belief still dominate large parts of society. Patriarchal norms, tribal traditions and feudal loyalties often carry more weight than the Constitution. They frame personal freedom as a threat rather than a right. The legal system is undermined not only by lack of enforcement but by a culture that sees conformity as virtue and autonomy as rebellion.
A similar contradiction exists in the practice of dowry. The Dowry and Bridal Gifts Act of 1976 legally restricts dowry, aiming to reduce economic exploitation and safeguard women. Yet dowry remains widespread and socially accepted. It is often seen as a sign of “generosity” or status, not as a burden or legal violation. Families go into debt to meet expectations, and women face harassment or violence if their dowry is considered inadequate. Here too, the law is present, but the culture is louder.
These contradictions persist because cultural norms offer a sense of control and continuity in a society where state institutions are often weak. In many areas, especially rural ones, informal systems of justice are more accessible than formal courts. Social order is maintained not through the rule of law but through community expectations. Change threatens these systems and is therefore met with resistance.
Yet cultural norms are not unchangeable. In religio-culturally conservative regions like Chitral, for example, research by scholars like Marsden shows that love marriages and elopements are more common and comparatively accepted. This variation indicates that traditional and cultural rigidity is not inevitable. Where education spreads, where justice is accessible and where dialogue takes place, attitudes begin to shift.
Bridging this gap between law and culture requires more than legislation. It requires moral courage and sustained effort. Educators, religious leaders, civil society and media must all play a role in challenging outdated norms. Public awareness campaigns, strong legal enforcement and community-based dialogue are essential. Change cannot come from the top-down alone. It must emerge from within families, classrooms and neighbourhoods.
The cost of inaction is too high. So long as culture continues to override law, individual rights will remain fragile, and lives will remain at risk. The future of justice and equality in Pakistan depends not only on legal reforms but on a collective willingness to question what has long been considered untouchable. This is not only a legal battle but a moral one, and it can no longer be postponed.
