Dignity Beyond Death: The Forgotten Fate of Executed Pakistanis in Saudi Arabia

In April 2025, Abu Zar, a Pakistani migrant worker, was executed in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia alongside another unnamed Pakistani national, both accused of drug trafficking. What followed his execution was not only a legal event but a humanitarian rupture. His family received no prior notice of the execution, no confirmation of burial arrangements, no opportunity to claim his body, and no information about where he was laid to rest. When they approached the Pakistani Embassy for assistance, they were reportedly told to “forget about it.”

This response, devoid of empathy or responsibility showcases a disturbing pattern in the treatment of Pakistani prisoners in the Kingdom. As Pakistanis continue to form one of the largest foreign worker populations in Saudi Arabia, their rights, even in death remain unprotected. This article draws upon first-hand legal research conducted at Justice Project Pakistan (JPP), examining Islamic teachings, international treaties, and consular practices to investigate a question both legal and moral: Do executed prisoners lose their right to dignity after death? And what about the rights of their grieving families do they not deserve answers, closure, and the chance to say goodbye?

Saudi Arabia remains one of the world’s most prolific executioners, particularly in cases involving drug-related offences. Foreign nationals, including a significant number of Pakistani migrant workers, constitute a substantial portion of those executed each year. Over the past decade and a half, more than one hundred Pakistani nationals have reportedly been executed in the Kingdom, with many more incarcerated and dozens believed to be on death row. Executions often occur without timely notification to families or effective communication with consular authorities. In numerous cases, the remains of executed individuals are not returned to their families and are instead buried in unmarked graves in remote locations. Families are denied closure, deprived of funeral rites, and left in a state of indefinite grief.

At the heart of this issue lies a foundational legal and moral inquiry: does the execution of a prisoner extinguish his or her right to dignity? Islamic jurisprudence, which forms the normative backbone of Saudi Arabia’s legal system, offers a clear and consistent answer. The Qur’an proclaims, “We have certainly honoured the children of Adam” (Qur’an 17:70).¹ This verse establishes the inherent dignity (karāmah) of every human being, a status not contingent upon innocence, social standing, or moral perfection. Classical Islamic jurists across the major schools of thought have affirmed that criminal punishment does not nullify the right to dignified burial and funeral rites.

Historical precedents from early Islamic history reinforce this principle. After the Battle of Badr in 2 AH, when the Muslim community defeated their persecutors from Mecca, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ ordered that the bodies of the enemy dead be buried respectfully. There was no mutilation, no public humiliation, and no denial of burial. Even in the aftermath of armed conflict, dignity in death was preserved. In the case of the Banu Qurayza in 5 AH, although certain members of the tribe were sentenced to death for treason, their bodies were not desecrated. They were buried, and their humanity was not denied post-mortem. These precedents reflect a consistent ethic: punishment does not erase the intrinsic worth of the deceased.

Classical juristic texts further confirm this position. Imam al-Nawawi, representing the Shafi‘i school, stated that an executed Muslim must be washed, shrouded, prayed over, and buried like any other Muslim.² Ibn Qudamah of the Hanbali school similarly held that there is no distinction in funeral rites between ordinary Muslims and those executed pursuant to legal punishment.³ Imam al-Kasani of the Hanafi school affirmed that the family has the right to claim the body; failing that, the state bears responsibility to ensure proper burial.⁴ Ibn Taymiyyah emphasised that even grave crimes do not strip the deceased of funeral rights.⁵ These opinions reflect a consensus grounded in the broader legal maxim that the dead must be honoured (al-mayyit yuhtaram) and that harm should neither be inflicted nor reciprocated (la darar wa la dirar).

Given that Saudi Arabia grounds its legal system in interpretations of Sharia, the practice of withholding bodies, conducting secret burials, or failing to inform families stands in tension with foundational Islamic principles. Even where capital punishment is lawfully imposed, the obligation to respect the deceased remains intact. The denial of burial information or refusal to release remains is not easily reconcilable with the established corpus of Islamic jurisprudence.

Beyond Islamic law, international legal obligations provide an additional framework for assessing state conduct. Saudi Arabia is a party to the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations 1963.⁶ Article 36 of the Convention requires that consular authorities be notified without delay when a foreign national is detained and guarantees the right of consular officers to communicate with and assist their nationals. While Article 36 is most commonly invoked in detention contexts, its spirit and purpose extend to situations involving death, particularly where consular assistance in burial or repatriation may be required. By ratifying the Convention in 1988, Saudi Arabia assumed binding legal obligations to respect these procedural safeguards.

Saudi Arabia is also a party to the Arab Charter on Human Rights 2004.⁷ Article 6 affirms the right to life and the necessity of strict legal safeguards in capital cases. Article 8 prohibits cruel, degrading, or humiliating treatment. Article 10 mandates humane treatment of detainees and those facing execution. While the Charter does not explicitly address the repatriation of remains, the cumulative reading of these provisions underscores the requirement of dignity and humane treatment throughout the process of punishment, including its aftermath. Secret executions without family notification and the denial of burial information may fall within the scope of degrading treatment, particularly when viewed through the lens of family suffering and psychological harm.

In addition to treaty obligations, customary international law and soft-law instruments reinforce the principle of dignified treatment of the dead. The United Nations Body of Principles for the Protection of All Persons under Any Form of Detention or Imprisonment affirms the right of families to be notified of detention and, by implication, death.⁸ The humane treatment of the deceased, even in conflict or capital punishment contexts, has crystallised as a basic norm of international conduct. While Saudi Arabia is not a party to certain global human rights treaties such as the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights or the Convention against Torture, it remains subject to periodic review by the United Nations Human Rights Council and is expected to adhere to core customary principles.

Comparative state practice further illustrates that the denial of post-execution dignity is not an inevitable feature of capital punishment regimes. Several migrant-sending states have developed formal policies to secure the repatriation of remains and to protest secret executions. The Philippines, through the Migrant Workers and Overseas Filipinos Act 1995 (Republic Act No 8042), imposes a clear obligation on its authorities to assist in the return of remains of overseas workers.⁹ The Department of Foreign Affairs has actively protested executions carried out without notice and has, in certain jurisdictions, succeeded in securing repatriation. Indonesia has similarly demonstrated diplomatic assertiveness. In the 2018 case of Tuti Tursilawati, executed in Saudi Arabia without prior embassy notification, Indonesia formally summoned the Saudi ambassador and lodged a protest. India’s Ministry of External Affairs regularly intervenes in capital cases involving its nationals, coordinates burial arrangements, and informs Parliament when rights are denied. Sri Lanka has also used diplomatic channels to request the return of remains and to seek assurances of transparency.

Pakistan, by contrast, lacks a formalised consular framework specifically addressing post-execution procedures. There is no publicly articulated protocol mandating the pursuit of remains, no statutory obligation akin to RA 8042, and limited evidence of formal diplomatic protest in cases of secret execution. Families often report encountering silence, procedural delay, or discouragement when seeking information. This absence of policy creates a vacuum in which accountability dissipates. The failure to invoke treaty rights under the Vienna Convention or to raise concerns under regional human rights instruments represents not only a diplomatic shortcoming but a potential dereliction of consular responsibility.

The execution of Abu Zar exemplifies the human consequences of this policy void. His family received no meaningful notice, no opportunity for final contact, and no access to burial information. The reported advice to “forget about it” encapsulates a broader institutional resignation. In Islamic terms, it deprives the family of the chance to perform janāzah prayers and to mourn at a known grave. In legal terms, it reflects a failure to assert available consular rights. In humanitarian terms, it prolongs grief and compounds trauma.

The denial of burial rights carries psychological and social implications that extend beyond immediate family members. Funerary rites serve as mechanisms of closure, communal solidarity, and spiritual fulfilment. In many cultures, including within Pakistani society, the physical presence of the body and the performance of rites are integral to the mourning process. The absence of a grave site can result in ambiguous loss, a form of grief characterised by uncertainty and unresolved attachment. The state’s role in facilitating or obstructing closure thus has tangible consequences for mental health and social cohesion.

Addressing this issue requires coordinated legal and diplomatic reform. Pakistan should adopt a formal written policy outlining mandatory consular steps in capital cases, including immediate verification of charges, access to legal counsel, family notification, and persistent requests for the release or at least identification of burial sites. A bilateral memorandum of understanding with Saudi Arabia could establish procedural clarity regarding notification timelines and the handling of remains. Pakistani missions in Riyadh and Jeddah require adequate resources and explicit mandates to follow up on every capital case. A national registry documenting detained and executed nationals abroad, with periodic public reporting, would enhance transparency. Pakistan could also raise the issue before multilateral forums, including the United Nations Human Rights Council and the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation, framing the matter as one of shared Islamic values concerning dignity in death.

Ultimately, the question transcends technical legality. It concerns the moral obligations of states toward their citizens and the consistency of proclaimed values with lived practice. Islamic law affirms the inviolable dignity of the human person, even in punishment. International law demands procedural fairness and humane treatment. Comparative diplomacy demonstrates that protest and negotiation are possible. The continued denial of burial information to families of executed Pakistanis thus stands at odds with multiple normative frameworks.

Death does not erase humanity. Whether guilty or innocent, affluent or impoverished, citizen or migrant worker, every individual remains entitled to a dignified farewell. The refusal to provide bodies or burial details converts punishment into prolonged suffering for families. It transforms legal sanction into social erasure. For Pakistan, a nation that relies heavily on the remittances and labour of its overseas workers, silence in the face of such practices risks signalling that citizenship protection ends at the border. A meaningful response would honour not only the deceased but also the living who await accountability.

In confronting this issue, Pakistan has the opportunity to align its diplomatic practice with its constitutional commitments, its international obligations, and its Islamic heritage. The dignity of the dead is not a negotiable courtesy but a legal and moral imperative. Without burial, there is no closure; without closure, there is no justice.

Bibliography

¹ Qur’an 17:70.
² Al-Nawawi, Al-Majmu‘ Sharh al-Muhadhdhab (Dar al-Fikr 1997).
³ Ibn Qudamah, Al-Mughni (Dar al-Fikr 1985).
⁴ Al-Kasani, Bada’i al-Sana’i fi Tartib al-Shara’i (Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyyah 1986).
⁵ Ibn Taymiyyah, Majmu‘ al-Fatawa (King Fahd Complex 1995).
⁶ Vienna Convention on Consular Relations (adopted 24 April 1963, entered into force 19 March 1967) 596 UNTS 261.
⁷ Arab Charter on Human Rights (adopted 22 May 2004, entered into force 15 March 2008).
⁸ UN Body of Principles for the Protection of All Persons under Any Form of Detention or Imprisonment, GA Res 43/173 (9 December 1988).
⁹ Republic Act No 8042 (Philippines) (1995).