Pakistan’s PECA 2025 Problem: When “Fake News” Law Becomes State Capacity for Silence

Every government now knows the magic words: misinformation, fake news, national security, public order, hate speech, cybercrime. These are real problems. They are also convenient doors through which censorship can walk wearing a policy suit.

Pakistan’s 2025 PECA amendments sit exactly at that dangerous intersection.

Human Rights Watch argued that the amendments threaten internet freedom and free expression and called for repeal or reform. Amnesty International warned that the criminal offence around “false and fake information,” combined with vague framing and PECA’s history of use against dissent, could chill online expression. Digital Rights Foundation’s analysis raised concerns about the proposed Social Media Protection and Regulatory Authority, expanded oversight powers, platform compliance mechanisms, and the risk of vague provisions being used against speech.

This is not merely a Pakistan story. It is a global governance pattern.

Governments face genuine information disorder. False rumours can inflame violence. Gendered disinformation can push women out of public life. Sectarian content can endanger communities. Election-related lies can undermine trust. Platforms often respond slowly or inconsistently. Citizens are left exposed.

But vague criminal laws are the wrong cure.

A rights-respecting disinformation policy must distinguish between harmful manipulation, mistaken speech, satire, political criticism, journalistic reporting, dissent, and state embarrassment. Laws that criminalise “fake” or “false” information without narrow definitions and strong safeguards give authorities too much discretion. In contexts where journalists, opposition voices, minority communities, and activists already face pressure, discretion becomes a threat.

The most dangerous feature of vague cybercrime law is not only prosecution. It is anticipation. People begin to self-censor because they cannot predict what will be treated as unlawful. Editors avoid sensitive stories. Researchers soften findings. Citizens hesitate before posting. Platforms may remove more than required to avoid conflict with authorities. The law works even before it is used.

This is what I mean by state capacity for silence.

A modern censorship system does not need to ban all speech. It only needs to make speech administratively risky. Summons, FIRs, tribunal processes, takedown threats, platform pressure, fines, and ambiguous offences can create a climate where the safest option is not to speak.

Pakistan’s information environment makes this especially concerning. Freedom House has documented internet restrictions and social media blocks around political events and elections. Amnesty has also reported concerns about surveillance and censorship infrastructure in Pakistan. When expanded speech offences, surveillance capacity, platform regulation, and shutdown tendencies coexist, the combined effect is not safety. It is control.

A better law would start from narrower principles.

First, disinformation-related restrictions should be limited to clearly defined, serious, imminent harms. “False information” alone is not enough. The law must distinguish between falsity, intent, harm, and public-interest speech.

Second, criminal penalties should be a last resort. Civil remedies, counterspeech, platform transparency, media literacy, public corrections, and electoral communication systems should be preferred where possible.

Third, any regulatory authority must be independent, transparent, and subject to judicial oversight. A regulator that answers to political power cannot be trusted to decide the boundaries of political speech.

Fourth, platform compliance orders should be published unless strictly necessary and legally justified. Secret takedown governance is incompatible with democratic accountability.

Fifth, journalists, researchers, human rights defenders, whistleblowers, satire, and political criticism require explicit safeguards.

Sixth, data access for independent researchers should be improved. States often invoke misinformation while refusing to support the independent evidence systems needed to study it.

Pakistan does need stronger responses to digital harm. Women journalists, religious minorities, political dissidents, and vulnerable communities face real online abuse. But a law that expands state power without building rights safeguards will not protect these groups equally. It will protect whoever has access to state enforcement.

The question is not whether misinformation matters. It does. The question is whether the cure makes truth safer or power stronger.

Pakistan’s PECA problem is that it treats information disorder as a policing problem before treating it as a trust, evidence, platform, rights, and institutional problem.

That is how “fake news” law becomes a machine for silence.