US Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg once famously remarked, “Real change, enduring change, happens one step at a time”. In Pakistan, those steps aren’t just obstructed but actively cemented in place by rules designed to preserve the old guard’s grip on power.
For instance, after tightening its hold on the judiciary through the 26th Amendment and curbing the media through the Peca Amendment law, parliament has now turned its sights on the legal profession with a proposed amendment to Section 5 of the Legal Practitioners Act 1973, raising the minimum experience for provincial bar leadership from 15 to 20 years.
The irony is staggering: a 25-year-old with zero experience can contest the national elections, yet a lawyer must wait two decades to even contest for bar leadership. The hypocrisy is not just barefaced but it’s a deliberate effort to keep the legal profession frozen in time, ensuring that its future remains firmly in the hands of the past.
Originally, the experience requirement for bar leadership was just seven years, but over time, it has been incrementally increased – first to 10 years, then to 15 in 2018, conveniently just before the 2020 bar elections. Now, with a proposed jump to 20 years, these changes are not about professional merit but about consolidating control within an elite circle of lawyers.
Contrarily, other jurisdictions acknowledge the importance of fresh voices in legal governance. To quote a few, the United Kingdom sets the minimum experience at just five years for Bar Council positions, while India’s Advocates Act 1961 fixates the minimum experience to contest bar polls at 10 years. Recognising the need for younger professionals to participate in legal leadership, India has even seen a progressive wave in favour of fresh perspectives, with the Punjab and Haryana High Court Bar Council reducing the requirement to just five years for bar association elections.
This starkly contrasts with Pakistan’s legal system, where leadership remains in the hands of a privileged few, opportunities are reserved for generational lawyers, and the profession operates at the behest of politically connected chambers. Instead of fostering inclusivity and modernisation, parliament seeks to shut out competent, dynamic young and women lawyers from leadership roles, ensuring that the same entrenched figures continue to wield power.
Disguised as a technical requirement, this amendment is a calculated manoeuvre, strategically positioned around critical bar election cycles. What is presented as an effort for professional development serves to consolidate provincial bar leadership into the hands of a select group of ‘senior’ lawyers, predominantly of the already dominant male gender. Far from advancing the bar, this shift is more about empowering a faction that has long used its influence within bar councils to further political interests.
This manipulation, especially in a country where the political elite often aligns with the legal establishment, accelerates the decay of the legal profession. Rather than a forum for transformative legal advocacy, the bar risks becoming a breeding ground for power struggles, stifling change and innovation. By embedding politically aligned individuals within the bar councils, the establishment gains disproportionate control over the judiciary, guiding legal outcomes to serve political agendas.
This not only undermines judicial independence but also allows these senior lawyers to bolster their own political influence through strategic involvement in high-profile cases. The bar, instead of being an impartial regulating body, remains in danger of becoming an instrument of political consolidation, eroding the very principles it is meant to uphold.
Fixing the experience threshold to 20 years for bar leadership entrenches power within a narrow demographic while also exacerbating the gender imbalance within the fraternity. Women in law already contend with systemic barriers, including exclusion from key professional networks, limited mentorship opportunities, and deeply ingrained biases that hinder their career progression. Imposing an experience requirement of two decades effectively locks them out of leadership positions, disregarding the structural challenges that have historically limited their representation.
Such a provision serves as a deliberate reinforcement of existing hierarchies, making it virtually impossible for women to overcome the historical and institutional barriers to leadership. This runs counter to the state’s constitutional obligations under Article 25, which guarantees equality before the law and prohibits discrimination based on gender, and Article 34, which mandates affirmative measures to ensure women’s full participation in national life. By creating a leadership framework that inherently disadvantages women, the amendment subverts the constitutional imperative of gender equality.
Similarly, creating space for young lawyers in top leadership roles would usher in a much-needed shift in priorities. These younger professionals are in tune with the struggles of their peers (many of whom face limited career opportunities, financial instability, and an exclusionary legal market controlled by a select few). Unlike the entrenched leadership, which often favours political manoeuvring over professional growth, young lawyers are committed to driving structural reforms. They would advocate for equal income opportunities, improved mentorship programmes, and broader access to the profession.
A leadership that is in touch with the challenges of today’s legal economy is more likely to foster change, rather than maintaining a system that disproportionately benefits generational lawyers and politically connected chambers. Moreover, preventing young lawyers from contesting bar elections robs the profession of future-focused leadership. As the legal landscape evolves with advancements in AI, digital tools, and tech-driven dispute resolution, young lawyers are uniquely positioned to integrate these innovations. Their exclusion hampers the modernisation of the profession and perpetuates a stagnant, resistant hierarchy.
However, under the current structure, young lawyers are reduced to mere campaigners, mobilised during elections but sidelined once power is consolidated. Instead of being given the opportunity to lead, they are expected to watch as the privileges of bar leadership remain confined to those with the right connections or family name.
In summation, the proposed amendment undermines the profession’s ability to evolve and serve the public. Parliament is failing its constitutional duty to ensure equality under Articles 25 and 34. The legal community cannot afford to remain passive. Just as the bar councils have opposed the likelihood of an appointment of an outsider as the chief justice of the Islamabad High Court, they must reject this amendment with equal conviction.
As American civil rights activist Ella Baker said, “Strong people don't need strong leaders.” The bar must empower its people – young, diverse, and capable – to lead the profession forward.