Imran Khan Vs Military: How Democracy Has Become A Bedtime Story In Pakistan

News18

a day ago

Pakistan's economy is faltering, its diplomatic standing is diminishing, and its society is becoming ever more divided
In Pakistan, democracy has often served as a reassuring narrative used to placate the populace, while the 'men in uniform" govern either overtly or from behind the scenes. Civilian administrations, regardless of their popularity, are allowed to function only as long as they do not threaten the vested interests of the military establishment. When they cross that line, they are removed via a well-established mechanism in which the judiciary is conveniently employed to implement the establishment's agenda.
No individual embodies this complex interplay of power more than Imran Khan, whose political ascent was not in defiance of the military's covert backing but rather a result of it. Now, like his predecessor Nawaz Sharif, he finds himself deconstructed, delegitimised, and detained.
Khan's political trajectory is steeped in profound irony. It required over twenty years, a massive cult following rooted in his cricketing fame following the 1992 World Cup triumph, and a populist discourse centred on reform, for him to attain Pakistan's premiership in 2018. However, this ascent was also contingent upon the endorsement of the very institution he now vehemently criticises—the Pakistan Army. For decades, the military establishment has acted as the ultimate power broker in Pakistani politics, assembling governments from a cadre of 'electables", pejoratively labelled 'lotas", and maintaining control through a blend of patronage, coercion, and calculated instability.
Once acclaimed by many as the military's favoured candidate, Khan's fall from favour occurred more swiftly than most had anticipated. His efforts to re-establish civilian authority and pursue an autonomous path—be it in foreign policy, intelligence postings, or internal military matters—proved intolerable for Pakistan's generals, who are unaccustomed even to the semblance of accountability. Consequently, what ensued was not simply a political rift, but a deliberate and relentless campaign of obliteration.
Since his removal from office in 2022, Khan has faced a slew of legal proceedings—an evident case of lawfare in which Pakistani courts, from the lowest levels to the Supreme Court, have become arenas for his political eradication. In a distinctly Kafkaesque twist, both Khan and his wife, Bushra Bibi, have received convictions in multiple cases, ranging from state-related corruption, such as the Toshakhana affair, to alleged violations of marriage law.
These prosecutions are not driven by any genuine commitment to accountability, which in Pakistan remains glaringly selective. Rather, the legal system has been weaponised to silence dissent and dismantle the most formidable challenge to military dominance. As Khan recently stated from Adiala Jail via his X account, Field Marshal Asim Munir had targeted his wife after she refused to support him when Prime Minister Khan dismissed him as head of the influential Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) within a year of his 2019 appointment.
Khan's incarceration since 2023 represents merely the most visible symptom of a more profound decay. His political party, Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI), has borne the full brunt of the establishment's wrath, with a transparently orchestrated effort to systematically dismantle it—particularly evident following the anti-government protests of 9 May 2023, sparked by Khan's arrest.
For the first time in Pakistan's history, demonstrators directly targeted military installations, most notably in Lahore and Peshawar, where Corps headquarters were defaced. In response, the state launched an expansive crackdown, during which senior PTI leaders were forced to resign during televised appearances, and hundreds of party members and supporters—some charged under colonial-era sedition laws, others under military codes—remain imprisoned. Many now face trial in military courts, reminiscent of the country's earlier authoritarian eras.
This is not merely a campaign against a single individual; it is an assault on the very concept of civilian authority. The establishment, now led by Army Chief Field Marshal Asim Munir, is resolute in its aim to guarantee that no civilian—whether elected or unelected—ever entertains the notion that they wield genuine power. In this struggle, the military establishment commands a wide arsenal of instruments to enforce its will.
The media, once a contested yet essential sphere, has been steadily hollowed out. For over a year, Imran Khan's name was effectively censored from television broadcasts following a directive issued by PEMRA, the national media regulator. Independent journalists, including Imran Riaz, were abducted, subjected to violence, or forced into exile. Prominent social media platforms such as X (formerly Twitter) were blocked, with access only reinstated a month ago—not in the interest of democratic transparency, but to facilitate military communication during border tensions with India. This digital blackout has functioned both as a gag and a warning: dissent will neither be aired nor endured.
Even more alarming is the proliferation of enforced disappearances—a tactic long refined in the conflict-affected peripheral regions of Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Today, activists, students, and journalists from major urban centres such as Lahore, Karachi, and Islamabad are disappearing in plain sight, accused of harbouring sympathies for opposition politics or threatening national security.
Furthermore, the February 2024 general elections, officially lauded as a democratic undertaking, in truth reflected outcomes that were preordained. With Khan and senior party figures such as Shah Mehmood Qureshi imprisoned, and PTI barred from contesting under its electoral symbol, the military-supported Pakistan Muslim League (Nawaz) and Pakistan People's Party were once more cycled into office. In reality, the elections showcased the military's orchestration of the political landscape, amid reports of ballot tampering, vote-count discrepancies, and a prolonged internet shutdown on polling day and thereafter. The message appeared unambiguous: democracy may be performed, but never permitted to yield the unexpected.
Within this system, military generals may not don political insignia or occupy parliamentary seats, yet they continue to rule through proxies, constructed narratives, and intimidation. Consequently, civilian institutions stand hollowed out—the judiciary reduced to a compliant instrument of state power, and parliament functioning as little more than a stage. In this context, political survival hinges not on popular backing, but on institutional loyalty to the General Headquarters in Rawalpindi.
To refer to a 'civil-military imbalance" in Pakistan is to significantly understate the situation. There is no equilibrium; merely the illusion of choice within a system engineered to prevent genuine contestation. Imran Khan is not the first to confront this reality, as Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto was executed, Nawaz Sharif exiled, and Benazir Bhutto assassinated. What renders the current period particularly perilous is the growing normalisation of authoritarian practices under the veneer of democracy, with the Shehbaz Sharif government fulfilling its compliant role.
It would be inaccurate to suggest that Pakistan's establishment pursues stability through consensus; rather, it demands submission through control. In doing so, it has dismantled the very notion of pluralistic politics within the country. The tragedy of Imran Khan, therefore, is not merely personal but emblematic of a wider national crisis where leaders are expendable, accountability is arbitrary, and the constitution remains subordinate to the khaki veto.
Undoubtedly, there is a significant cost to this ongoing assault on democracy. Pakistan's economy is faltering, its diplomatic standing is diminishing, and its society is becoming ever more divided. The consequences of fear, censorship, and political manipulation extend beyond moral concerns, leading to the exodus of the limited foreign investment the country attracted, increased regional isolation, and the proliferation of extremism within the socio-religious domain.
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However, it remains uncertain whether Pakistan's military leaders, along with their civilian collaborators such as the incumbent government, will ever surrender their grip on authority. Until that moment arrives, democracy in Pakistan will continue to be what it has invariably been—a mere bedtime story.
The writer is an author and a columnist. His X handle is @ArunAnandLive. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect News18's views.
tags :
Asim Munir Imran Khan nawaz sharif Operation Sindoor pakistan Shehbaz Sharif
Location :
Pakistan
First Published:
June 14, 2025, 16:20 IST
News opinion Global Watch | Imran Khan Vs Military: How Democracy Has Become A Bedtime Story In Pakistan