HARIPUR: The vast Afghan refugee camp on the outskirts of Haripur—once among the largest in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa—now lies flattened and eerily silent. Where rows of mud houses and tents once bustled with life, only debris and empty ground remain after government bulldozers moved in, symbolizing a decisive phase in Pakistan’s policy to deport undocumented Afghan refugees.
The dismantling of the Haripur camp is part of a broader nationwide crackdown that authorities say is driven by security imperatives. Pakistani officials argue that the prolonged presence of illegal refugees has created serious law-and-order challenges, while refugee families and rights advocates warn that the policy is uprooting people who have spent their entire lives in Pakistan.
A senior security agency official, speaking on condition of anonymity, described the issue as “a serious matter for the security of Pakistan.”
“Investigations into recent militant incidents show that the majority of terrorist activities are being carried out by Afghan nationals who are staying here illegally,” the official said. “The government is very serious about this matter and in no way will allow illegal Afghan refugees to stay in Pakistan.”
Another government official echoed these concerns, claiming that identity fraud has complicated the situation. “A large number of Afghans managed to obtain Pakistani identity cards illegally, particularly from three districts—Dera Ismail Khan, Mohmand district and the Chaman district in Baluchistan,” he said, adding that verification drives are now under way to cancel such documents.
For refugees, however, the policy has translated into fear, uncertainty and, in many cases, sudden homelessness.
Advocate Fahad Javid, a Haripur-based lawyer who handles human rights cases, told this correspondent that he is currently representing dozens of Afghan refugees detained Hazara Division of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa.
“Many of my clients are in prison not because they are criminals, but because the provincial government lacks the resources to deport them immediately,” he said. “They are effectively stuck in jails.”
Javid urged the authorities to adopt a more nuanced approach. “Some of the people whose cases I am fighting were born and raised in Pakistan. They have never seen Afghanistan. I request the government to look into such cases sympathetically,” he said.
The human cost of the deportation drive is evident in Abbottabad, where the Amiri family’s ordeal reflects the cascading impact of arrests and evictions.
Ms. Suriya Amiri and her 16-year-old son, Israr Uddin Amiri, had travelled to Islamabad for what the family described as a routine medical check-up. During their stay, both were arrested by law enforcement authorities and later deported to Afghanistan.
In their absence, the remaining family members—Misbah Uddin Amiri (20), Sumiya Amiri (24) and Asma Amiri—were evicted from their rented home in Khwaja Muhammad Khel Mohallah, Abbottabad, after failing to pay rent. The family initially sought shelter in a local mosque before community members helped them move into another rented house.
That arrangement has also proved fragile. The current house owner, himself an Afghan refugee, has reportedly been threatened by his landlord and told to vacate the premises because of the Amiri family’s presence. As a result, the family once again faces imminent homelessness.
Meanwhile, Ms. Suriya Amiri and her minor son, now in Afghanistan, are attempting to return to Pakistan through irregular channels, according to relatives. Such attempts expose them to serious risks, including arrest, exploitation and forced return, commonly known as refoulement.
Another case highlighting protection concerns is that of Mr. Sadat, a former Afghan government official who says deportation would place his life in immediate danger.
Mr. Sadat previously held a high-profile position within the Afghan government, a role that he believes makes him easily identifiable and vulnerable following the change in power in his country of origin. “My name and professional background are well known,” he said, explaining that internal relocation within Afghanistan offers him no real safety.
In addition to his government service, Mr. Sadat has worked with United Nations agencies and in the humanitarian sector, contributing to public service and aid programs. He fears these affiliations further increase the risk to his life, as individuals linked to international organizations are often viewed with suspicion by hostile actors.
He described living under constant psychological pressure. “There is fear, anxiety and uncertainty every day,” he said, visibly distressed while speaking about his family’s future. “The threat is real and ongoing. Deportation would expose us to serious harm, if not fatal consequences.”
Citing his former role, international work and prevailing security conditions in Afghanistan, Mr. Sadat is seeking urgent international protection and resettlement. He has appealed for what he calls “immediate and compassionate intervention” under humanitarian and international protection frameworks.
Pakistani authorities maintain that national security considerations must come first, insisting that the policy targets only those staying illegally. Rights advocates, however, argue that blanket enforcement risks violating humanitarian principles and punishing families with deep roots in Pakistan.
As the dust settles over the demolished Haripur camp, the debate continues—between a state determined to assert control over its borders and vulnerable refugees caught between security policy and survival, unsure where they truly belong.