On September 9, 2025, Amnesty International released a report that sent ripples through the global human rights community: Pakistan, the world’s fifth-most-populous country, has rapidly escalated its surveillance capabilities, merging cutting-edge Chinese and Western technology to monitor millions of its citizens in real time. The report, covered by both Amnesty International and Reuters, paints a chilling portrait of a nation where dissent is increasingly risky and privacy is swiftly vanishing.
At the heart of this expanding surveillance network are two powerful digital tools: the Lawful Intercept Management System (LIMS) and a Chinese-built firewall known as WMS 2.0. According to Amnesty International, LIMS enables Pakistan’s intelligence agencies to tap into at least four million mobile phones at any given moment, intercepting calls and text messages with remarkable efficiency. Meanwhile, WMS 2.0 can block or slow up to two million active internet sessions simultaneously, censoring social media and websites across the country. Together, these systems form one of the most comprehensive state surveillance architectures outside of China.
The implications are profound. As reported by Reuters, the surveillance network was developed using a blend of Chinese and Western technology, with the explicit aim of cracking down on dissent and curbing free speech. This crackdown has intensified since the military’s break with former Prime Minister Imran Khan in 2022—a political rupture that led to Khan’s imprisonment and the detention of thousands of his party’s activists. Political and media freedoms, already under strain, have tightened further, with the government’s gaze now reaching deeper into the private lives of ordinary Pakistanis.
The technical backbone of this system is as international as it is sophisticated. The firewall, WMS 2.0, is supplied by Geedge Networks, a Chinese company. It incorporates equipment from US-based Niagara Networks, software from Thales DIS—a subsidiary of the French multinational Thales—and servers from a Chinese state information technology company. Previously, the system relied on Canada’s Sandvine, whose successor, AppLogic Networks, claims to have grievance mechanisms to prevent misuse. Niagara Networks, for its part, told Reuters that it abides by US export regulations and does not know who the end users of its products are, stating that it sells only tapping and aggregation gear.
The phone tapping system, meanwhile, was manufactured by Germany’s Utimaco and deployed through monitoring centers operated by Datafusion, a company based in the United Arab Emirates. Datafusion has stated that its centers are sold exclusively to law enforcement and that it does not produce LIMS itself. Yet, as Amnesty’s report makes clear, the integration of these technologies has created a formidable apparatus for mass surveillance.
How does this system work in practice? LIMS allows intelligence agencies to tap into calls and text messages, while WMS 2.0 inspects and filters internet traffic, blocking or throttling websites and social media platforms at will. Amnesty International’s technologist, Jurre van Bergen, told Reuters that all four major mobile operators in Pakistan have been ordered to connect their networks to LIMS—potentially driving the number of phones under surveillance even higher than the four million already cited. The result is a society where, as Amnesty’s report warns, “mass surveillance creates a chilling effect in society, whereby people are deterred from exercising their rights, both online and offline.”
The scale of online censorship is staggering. Amnesty’s findings reveal that Pakistan is currently blocking around 650,000 web links and restricting access to platforms such as YouTube, Facebook, and X (formerly Twitter). The impact is most acutely felt in Balochistan province, where years-long internet blackouts have become the norm. Rights groups accuse the military of orchestrating disappearances and killings of Baloch and Pashtun activists in this restive region—charges the military denies. Still, the blackout of digital communications has made it all but impossible for local communities to organize or seek help.
The origins of Amnesty’s investigation are rooted in a 2024 Islamabad High Court case filed by Bushra Bibi, the wife of former Prime Minister Khan, after her private phone calls were leaked online. In court, Pakistan’s defense ministries and intelligence agencies denied running or even possessing the capacity for phone tapping. However, under questioning, the country’s telecom regulator admitted it had already ordered phone companies to install LIMS for use by “designated agencies.” Despite repeated requests from Reuters, Pakistan’s Technology, Interior, and Information ministries—as well as the telecom regulator—did not respond to questions about the Amnesty report.
Foreign suppliers play a critical role in sustaining Pakistan’s surveillance apparatus. Amnesty International reviewed licensing agreements, trade data, leaked technical files, and Chinese corporate records to tie the firewall supplier directly to state-owned companies in Beijing. The report raises uncomfortable questions about the global trade in surveillance technology and the responsibilities of companies whose products can be repurposed for repression.
Dr. Ben Wagner, a professor of human rights and technology at Austria’s IT:U, told Reuters that while monitoring centers for mobile calls are common worldwide, public internet filtering at this scale is rare. “Having both in Pakistan constitutes a troubling development from a human rights perspective,” he said, “and suggests greater restrictions on freedom of expression and privacy will become more common as such tools become easier to implement.”
Despite official denials and a lack of transparency, the evidence is mounting. The integration of LIMS and WMS 2.0 into Pakistan’s telecommunications infrastructure is not just a technical feat—it represents a fundamental shift in the relationship between the state and its citizens. Amnesty International’s report underscores the global dimensions of this surveillance, highlighting how a network of foreign suppliers enables the Pakistani government to tighten its grip on the flow of information and the boundaries of dissent.
For many Pakistanis, the chilling effect is already tangible. As the government’s digital dragnet expands, the space for free expression, political activism, and even private conversation shrinks. The world, meanwhile, is left to grapple with the uncomfortable reality that the tools of surveillance, once the preserve of the world’s most powerful states, are now available to any government with the means—and the will—to use them.
As Pakistan’s surveillance state grows more sophisticated, the debate over privacy, human rights, and the global trade in digital technology is only just beginning.
