Sarhad University and the Politics of Manipulation

Barrister Usman Ali
For the past few days, an altercation involving students at Sarhad University’s Islamabad campus and a military officer has dominated the media. Video clips have circulated widely, prompting conclusions shaped by political loyalties as much as evidence. Confirming one’s existing beliefs is easy; establishing the truth is harder. The episode should be examined not merely as a campus scuffle, but as evidence of institutional weaknesses that allowed an administrative dispute to become dangerous.

I have experienced university affairs from both sides: first as an elected student representative at a major university and later as an administrative officer. I learned that teachers, employees, administrators and political actors sometimes use students to advance personal or factional interests. Driven by emotion, loyalty, incomplete information or promised benefits, students can become instruments in other people’s battles. By the time they recognise the real motives, some are already facing criminal cases, interrupted studies or lasting career damage.

Peshawar’s campuses offer painful historical examples. During the 1980s, a lecturer’s conduct, political affiliations and student incitement contributed to an armed clash at Islamia College. Similar forces reportedly surrounded a fatal confrontation at Khyber Medical College. Those behind such conflicts often remained protected while students inherited the injuries, cases and educational losses. Campus violence was later used by General Ziaul Haq’s government to justify the 1984 ban on student unions, depriving generations of democratic representation.

The central question is simple: if the original disagreement was between university employees, why were students made a party to it? Who mobilised them, and why? Were they given complete facts, and were any concessions allegedly offered? If an employee encouraged students to protest to avoid disciplinary action or protect a position, that would be a serious abuse of the teacher-student relationship. Students are not foot soldiers in employees’ personal battles.

Appointments, suspensions and disciplinary proceedings cannot be determined by student approval. They require rules, evidence and due process. Yet an administration that fails to explain decisions or provide credible grievance mechanisms creates conditions in which crowds replace procedures. Students retain the right to protest peacefully over fees, examinations, harassment, safety and teaching standards. That right does not include deciding who should be dismissed, threatening individuals or physically attacking opponents.

Preliminary reports suggest that the confrontation was not one-sided. It has been alleged that the officer’s wife was harassed, after which he was surrounded, assaulted and had his uniform torn. If substantiated, responsibility will also rest with the participants and anyone who incited them. A man facing such circumstances may understandably become angry, so the officer’s decision to draw a pistol and fire into the air cannot be considered without context. Yet an understandable reaction is not automatically lawful or proportionate. His conduct must be investigated without ignoring the alleged harassment and assault. Justice cannot be selective.

Pakistan has an unfortunate habit: by the time truth reaches daylight, falsehood has already laid waste to whole villages. No comprehensive official account has yet presented the incident’s chronology and all parties’ positions. This silence has fuelled rumours. Some accounts show selectively edited footage; others invent stories attributed to unnamed sources or present opinions as confirmed reports. A short video may reveal one moment, not the complete sequence, yet online commentators quickly become witness, investigator and judge.

Pakistan’s problem is not a shortage of laws, but their selective enforcement. Provisions against misinformation often appear to target political opponents and critics. Rumours during a volatile incident can provoke violence, so prompt correction is essential. Yet combating falsehood must not become an excuse to suppress expression. The law must distinguish between criticism, investigative journalism, honest mistakes and fabricated stories intended to cause harm. Responsibility should depend on evidence, intent and consequences—not political identity.

No participant should be above the law, whether a military officer, administrator, faculty member or student. An independent committee should examine all statements, complete videos, CCTV footage and other evidence. It must investigate not only the final moments captured online, but how the dispute began, who mobilised the students, how security responded and why the administration failed to de-escalate it. Every party deserves a fair hearing, and a summary of the findings should be public.

The episode also exposes weak regulation of private educational institutions. Too many universities are treated primarily as commercial enterprises: buildings, advertising and enrolment receive attention while academic standards, governance and student welfare are neglected. Regulators should assess teaching quality, financial transparency, grievance procedures and emergency preparedness. Universities need confidential complaint systems, trained security and effective conflict-resolution mechanisms. Faculty and employees must understand that using students in personal disputes betrays their professional responsibility.

Universities should be centres of education, debate and character formation, not arenas for factional politics and displays of power. The Sarhad University incident should prompt investigation, accountability, responsible communication and lasting reform. Otherwise, the individuals may change, but similar incidents will recur, and students will again pay the highest price.

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