Dr Khalid Mufti/ Dr Afzal Javed
WHEN a person reaches a point where death seems easier than life, the essential question is no longer whether the law has been broken.
It is what depth of suffering has made life itself appear unbearable. The courtroom examines an offence, religion condemns a sin, but medicine encounters a human being whose hope has all but disappeared. It is at this point that law, morality and science are called upon to engage in a meaningful dialogue.
The recent judgment of Pakistan’s Federal Shariah Court has revived a longstanding debate: should a person who attempts suicide be treated as a criminal deserving punishment or as a patient in urgent need of care? While the issue appears legal, it is fundamentally a question of public morality and social responsibility. The law responds to wrongdoing with punishment; medicine responds to suffering with treatment.
A suicide attempt is rarely an impulsive act born in isolation. More often, it is the final consequence of prolonged despair. Poverty, unemployment, debt, domestic violence, mental illness, loneliness, social neglect and the loss of hope gradually erode a person’s resilience until death appears to offer the only escape from unbearable pain. According to the World Health Organization, hundreds of thousands of people die by suicide each year, while many more attempt it. Experience across the world shows that criminalizing attempted suicide neither prevents suicide nor saves lives. Instead, it drives vulnerable individuals into silence, discourages them from seeking medical help and leaves families reluctant to disclose the truth for fear of legal consequences.
Like many former British colonies, Pakistan inherited colonial legislation that treated attempted suicide as a criminal offence. That provision was repealed four years ago to ensure that survivors were directed to hospitals rather than prisons. The Federal Shariah Court has now restored criminal liability, reasoning that since suicide is prohibited in Islam, its attempted commission cannot be removed from the category of crime.
The judgment nevertheless raises an important jurisprudential question. Does every sinful act necessarily require criminal punishment by the state? Islamic jurisprudence has never rested upon punishment alone. It is equally founded on justice, mercy and public welfare.
Classical Muslim jurists recognized that severe mental illness and impaired judgment affect legal responsibility. Intention, mental capacity and human circumstances have always been central considerations in Islamic law. Mental health professionals do not argue that suicide is morally acceptable. They argue that those who attempt it are usually overwhelmed by psychological distress. They seek not death itself, but an end to unbearable suffering. With timely intervention, treatment and compassionate support, many recover and regain the desire to live.
Should a young person who survives a suicide attempt be met with handcuffs or with psychiatric care? Should the family face criminal proceedings or receive counselling and rehabilitation? These questions reveal not only the purpose of law but also the character of society. Punishment may create fear, but it cannot restore hope. Treatment tells a suffering person that life still has value and that help is available. At a time when Pakistan faces growing economic hardship, social anxiety and an expanding mental health crisis, the country needs more psychiatric services, trained professionals, crisis Helplines and public awareness—not more prosecutions.
—The writers are psychiatrists.
