A citizen wakes up one morning and discovers that he no longer exists, at least not in the eyes of the system. His bank account is inaccessible. His phone stops working. His salary cannot be processed. He cannot travel, check into a hotel, or access public services. He has not been convicted. He may not even have been charged.

Yet his life has effectively been put on pause!

This is the real-world implication of a proposed amendment in Pakistan that would allow authorities to temporarily block Computerised National Identity Cards (CNICs): the single most critical identity document underpinning daily life in the country.

To be fair, not all aspects of this policy are inherently unreasonable.

There is a legitimate state concern around foreign nationals, particularly undocumented migrants or Afghan refugees, who may have fraudulently obtained CNICs. Lawmakers themselves have flagged this issue, noting cases where Afghan nationals allegedly held Pakistani CNICs based on breeder documents such as fraudulent birth certificates issued by local governments, for which verification mechanisms remain weak.

When handled with rigorous legal protections, temporarily suspending activities for verification and review can be warranted in these situations. While I was in office, I established zonal boards that included NADRA officials, Deputy Commissioners, and agency representatives. These boards verified documents and gave applicants multiple chances to resolve concerns and present their evidence face-to-face.

But that is not where the concern lies.

The real concern lies in how this power has already been exercised, and how easily it can be abused. Pakistan does not need to imagine the risks of arbitrary CNIC blocking. It has already experienced them.

Before I assumed office as Chairman of NADRA in June 2021, in a landmark case, the Islamabad High Court ordered NADRA to restore the CNIC of a sitting parliamentarian, Hafiz Hamdullah, after declaring the authority’s actions “arbitrary and reckless.” In 2019–20, NADRA had declared an elected parliamentarian, whose son was serving in the Pakistan Army, an “alien”, revoked his citizenship and blocked his CNIC. All based on administrative assessments and intelligence inputs. The court explicitly questioned whether authorities understood the impact of blocking someone’s CNIC even for a single day.

Digital identity should empower citizens, not make them invisible

Digital identity should empower citizens, not make them invisible

From a constitutional and legal standpoint, the proposal raises serious concerns. Blocking a CNIC, even temporarily, has immediate and punitive consequences, effectively restricting a citizen’s access to livelihood, mobility, and basic services. This contradicts Article 4 of the Constitution, which declares that no person may face arbitrary measures unless such actions are lawful. When a citizen is prevented from participating in economic or social activities without a court decision, it can affect their rights to life and dignity (Article 9), fair trial (Article 10A), and freedom of profession (Article 18).

Beyond domestic law, Pakistan’s international commitments under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, Universal Declaration of Human Rights, International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, and Convention on the Rights of the Child further prohibit arbitrary interference with legal identity, livelihood, and due process, making any such administrative power highly vulnerable to constitutional challenge.

This is not a theoretical risk. It is a documented precedent.

In this milieu, what was once an exceptional misuse is now at risk of being institutionalised through legislation.

The proposed amendment aims to give NADRA explicit powers to block CNICs for individuals suspected of wrongdoing, particularly those evading law enforcement or involved in criminal activity. But this raises a fundamental question: if such powers were previously deemed arbitrary and unlawful by courts, how does formalising them make them constitutional? The danger is not just legal, it is structural. The CNIC is the gateway to citizenship in practice. Blocking does not just suspend identification; it suspends participation in society.

The Supreme Court has already recognised this reality, ruling that a CNIC is a “basic necessity” and that depriving someone of it is akin to depriving them of fundamental rights.

Governments worldwide sometimes limit rights in particular situations; for instance, they may revoke passports, freeze bank accounts, or deny services based on court orders. But there is little evidence of any country adopting a system where a foundational identity credential is administratively “switched off” across all sectors simultaneously.

That distinction matters.

Pakistan's CNIC is more integrated than most other countries' identity systems. Blocking it creates a cascade failure across the entire economy and governance system. Consider the risk of a slippery slope: policies justified in the name of national security often begin narrowly but rarely remain so. Today, the target may be undocumented foreigners or criminal suspects; tomorrow, it could expand to political dissenters, marginalised communities, and citizens caught in bureaucratic errors. The Hamdullah case demonstrates that even a parliamentarian is not immune from arbitrary classification.

What, then, is the protection for an ordinary citizen? Rule of law or a rule by the NADRA database? At its core, this debate is not about identity cards. It is about the nature of the state. Is identity a right that the state guarantees? Or a privilege the state can suspend? When a digital ID system becomes a tool of enforcement without robust judicial oversight, it risks transforming from an enabler of inclusion into an instrument of control.

The state’s objectives, such as ensuring security, preventing fraud, and enforcing the law, are very legitimate. However, the methods must adhere to constitutional values. A more balanced approach would include judicial authorisation before CNIC suspension, service-specific restrictions instead of blanket blocking, immediate and accessible appeal mechanisms, and independent oversight and audit trails. Digital identity should empower citizens, not make them invisible.

Pakistan has built one of the most sophisticated identity systems in the developing world. It has enabled financial inclusion, social protection, and electoral integrity. But the true test of any digital system is not its efficiency. It is whether it strengthens trust or erodes it. Because the moment a state acquires the power to switch off identity, it acquires something far more consequential: the power to decide who counts and who does not. Parliamentarians should shackle the leviathan instead of unleashing it on the people who voted them into parliament!

© The Friday Times