Express Tribune Editorials 18th September 2026

Crass stage performances

While theatre stages have always had a reputation for pushing boundaries, there was a time when Pakistan's commercial theatre was regarded as a vibrant, if slightly rough-edged, cultural space, where wit and satire dominated the landscape. That is now a lost legacy, as most stage plays have been reduced to lewd, tawdry jokes that are often only an excuse to claim the obscene dances are part of a play, rather than an independent adults-only performance. And while many provocative artists around the world use offensive and discomforting performances as part of their art, what is happening on many of the stages across the country is not art. It is not a social commentary. And while it is provocative, it is not thought-provoking.

Such performances cannot wear the label of free expression and be allowed to continue unchecked. Art can sometimes be offensive to certain viewers, but simply being offensive does not make something into art. The vulgarity on stage is not subversive; it is just lazy. And because of this, it is also an insult to actual actors of either gender, but especially women, who face public stereotyping despite having never done anything akin to what is on most commercial stages.

The most legitimate critique of the government's response measures is that they include lifetime bans, which can be an overly blunt instrument, especially against younger actors trying to make their way into more reputable productions. Lahore Arts Council's recent initiative to revive script-based, family-oriented theatre is also a step in the right direction, as it will hopefully open up more roles for struggling actors. If we want performers to show their range and reclaim their craft, we must also provide them with fair opportunities to do so. Otherwise, we are unlikely to see a day when people can buy a ticket and walk into a show without worrying whether it will leave them traumatised.

Justice for Rosham

Nine days after 17-year-old Rosham Hussain was shot dead inside his home in Manghopir neighbourhood of Karachi, his family is still sitting outside the police station with his body unburied. That a bereaved family should feel compelled to withhold its own son's funeral until the killers are arrested is a disturbing measure of how little confidence it has in the state's ability to deliver justice. Rosham was reportedly killed on September 8 when six armed men entered his house, two of them wearing police uniforms.

Police say a seven-member investigation team has been formed and that significant clues have been obtained. But after nine days, the public needs to see tangible progress. The most obvious lead appears to be the digital evidence. Investigators reportedly identified seven mobile phones active at the location around the time of the incident, with two inside the house and five outside. If these phones have been identified, investigators should be able to establish the numbers, trace the registered SIM holders and examine their movements and contacts. That evidence should then be corroborated with CCTV footage and other available data. There is an even more troubling dimension. Two men allegedly entered the house dressed as police officers. For an ordinary citizen, a police uniform is supposed to signify protection and authority. If criminals can use it to gain access to homes, it becomes a weapon of deception. This is why the case deserves scrutiny beyond the murder itself.

The family's protest should not have to continue indefinitely for the machinery of the state to demonstrate that it is functioning. Nor should the unburied body of a 17-year-old become the instrument through which citizens seek the attention of the authorities. What the state can still do is ensure that his killing does not become another unresolved case in Karachi's long catalogue of street crime.

Warning to Taliban

Pakistan did some plain talking at the UN Security Council when it said that it has every right to defend itself under international law. Asim Iftikhar Ahmad, Pakistan's Permanent Representative to the UN, categorically referred to terrorism emanating from across its western frontier and said that the advent of Taliban had made the Southwest Asian state a hub of non-state actors. Islamabad made its case by saying that, as and when desired, it has the right to respond in self-defence in accordance with international law to quell terrorist elements that enjoy official patronage from Kabul.

The world body was debating Afghanistan's security situation five years after the Taliban returned to power. The envoy pointed out that more than 4,700 Pakistanis had lost their lives to terrorism emanating from Afghanistan over the past three years. The reclusive provinces of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan have, in particular, borne the brunt of militant violence as foreign infiltration and local abettors work hand in glove with outfits such as BLA, Majeed Brigade, TTP, ISKP and Al Qaeda. This is owing to the fact that Kabul has not been able to stem the rot and failed to act against their safe havens. It failed to uphold the pledges made at Doha in 2020 that its soil would not be used against neighbouring states.

Kabul has been repeatedly criticised by international human rights bodies and UN experts for failing to instal an inclusive government. UN Secretary-General António Guterres and the 10-member SCO too are on record, expressing deep concern over the Taliban's discriminatory policies towards Afghan women and girls, while the UN has also warned about the continued presence of terrorist groups in the country. Human Rights Watch had gone to the extent of calling upon the diplomatic community to censure the Taliban and hold back recognition till they put their house in order.

Pakistan, undoubtedly, is a victim of terrorism whose epicentre is in Afghanistan. The occasional closure of crossing points at Torkham and Chaman and the audacity of the Afghan forces to fire on Pakistani troops testify that the regime is unmindful of regional harmony and is a nuisance to its neighbours.