Tag: PTI

In May 2023, something happened that most of us thought we’d never see. Protesters didn’t just chant slogans or wave flags—they stormed military installations. In Pakistan. It was bold. Dangerous. And deeply symbolic.

On the surface, it was a reaction to the arrest of former Prime Minister Imran Khan. But look closer, and it felt like the breaking of a long-held silence. A public that had, for decades, tiptoed around the army’s role in politics was suddenly confronting it head-on.

The Fall of a Fragile Alliance

It’s ironic. The very party leading the charge—Khan’s PTI—was once seen as being hand-in-glove with the military. That relationship cracked wide open in 2022, after Khan was ousted through a no-confidence vote. He claimed it was a stitch-up—foreign hands, domestic betrayal, and yes, the army lurking in the background.

From that moment, his tone changed. The jabs became punches. He accused generals of trying to silence him, even blamed them for a failed attempt on his life. When the 2024 elections rolled around, the establishment hit back. His party symbol—a cricket bat—was taken away. His candidates ran as independents. And even though they won more seats than anyone else, they were boxed out of government.

PTI cried foul. The phrase “mother of all rigging” made the rounds. But some asked: is this really a battle for democracy—or just anger at no longer having the military’s blessing?

A History We Pretend to Forget

Let’s be honest. This tension isn’t new. It goes back to 1947. Pakistan was born in a hurry, with no deep-rooted civilian institutions ready to lead. The military, organized and visible, stepped into the vacuum. The first coup came in 1958. Since then, generals have ruled directly for about half of the country’s history—and pulled the strings during most of the rest.

Even in “democratic” periods, foreign policy, national security—even parts of the economy—have often been shaped in Rawalpindi, not Islamabad.

And it’s not subtle. Not really.

Civilian Faces, Military Hands

Over the years, civilian governments have often been little more than polite cover for military influence. Some were toppled. Others quietly coexisted. But few had the space—or the spine—to govern independently.

Why? Because every time there’s a political crisis (and there’s always a crisis), politicians turn to the military for mediation. They think the army is the adult in the room. The fixer. The referee. And by doing that, they invite the referee to play the game.

The Army’s Other Uniform

But the military’s reach doesn’t stop at politics. It runs businesses. A lot of them. Real estate projects. Construction companies. Banks. Farms. Its economic empire is estimated to be worth over $20 billion.

Officially, it’s about helping the families of fallen soldiers. In reality, it’s also about control. When an institution becomes this financially independent, it’s nearly impossible to reform. It doesn’t need to ask. It tells.

Security as a Trump Card

Whenever critics push back, the military has a simple response: “We’re the only thing keeping this place together.” And in a country where extremist violence, separatist tensions, and unstable borders are real threats—that argument lands.

Take the hostage crisis on a train in March 2025. Militants stormed it. The army stepped in, resolved the standoff. But afterward, the army chief warned that the real problem wasn’t terrorism. It was weak civilian governance.

The message was clear: if the politicians can’t run the country, we will.

The Same Old Loop

This isn’t just about Imran Khan. Or PTI. Or one general. The same thing happened to Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. To Benazir. To Nawaz Sharif. Leaders rise, clash with the military, fall. New ones are lifted up—until they, too, forget who really holds the leash.

And here’s the kicker: many of today’s top politicians were once propped up by the military. They didn’t just tolerate it—they benefited from it. That’s what makes talk of resistance ring hollow sometimes.

Is There a Way Out?

Can Pakistan change course? That depends on whether its politicians are ready to grow up. To stop turning to the army every time there’s a dispute. To respect elections—win or lose. To build institutions that aren’t waiting for a general’s nod.

The truth is, the military won’t back off just because someone shouts at a press conference. It will take time. Discipline. Unity among parties who usually can’t stand each other.

But if that doesn’t happen? The cycle will repeat. Again. And again. And again.

The Real Test

This is about more than politics. It’s about who gets to define Pakistan’s future. Will it be voters—or men in uniform? Can institutions finally work within their boundaries? Can power be exercised without backroom deals or quiet threats?

The answer isn’t obvious. But whatever it is—it’s going to shape this country for a long, long time.

The Referee Who Owns the Stadium

The images from May 2023 remain etched in the collective memory of a nation: smoke rising from cantonments and protesters breaching gates that were once considered untouchable. It was a moment of unprecedented audacity. For the first time, the public did not merely whisper about military influence in Pakistan; they confronted it with physical force. This was not a standard protest: it was a shattering of the “fear barrier” that has defined the state since its inception.

The Fall of a Fragile Alliance

The irony of the current friction is almost poetic. Former Prime Minister Imran Khan, once the golden child of the establishment, found himself cast as its primary antagonist after his 2022 ousting. The subsequent 2024 elections served as a brutal masterclass in institutional control. Candidates were stripped of their symbols, yet they emerged with a plurality of seats, only to be sidelined by a coalition that appeared choreographed from behind the scenes. The scene exemplifies that influence, particularly the military, is still potent in Pakistan’s political dynamics.

Is this truly a democratic awakening, or is it simply the fury of a partner who was suddenly ghosted? This relationship resembles a high-stakes poker game where the house always wins because the house owns the cards, the table, and the oxygen in the room. The “mother of all rigging” became a popular refrain, but it masks a deeper systemic failure. The avoidance of genuine structural reform by all political parties has ensured that the military remains the only cohesive entity in a fractured landscape.

A Century of Strings and Shadows: The Deep Roots of GHQ

To understand the present, one must acknowledge that military influence in Pakistan is not an aberration; it is the foundation. Since 1947, the lack of robust civilian institutions allowed the army to position itself as the sole guarantor of stability. Generals have held the gavel for half of the nation’s life, and even during civilian intervals, the “red lines” regarding foreign policy and the nuclear program remain firmly drawn in Rawalpindi.

1. The Economic Empire: The military operates a corporate conglomerate valued at over $20 billion, spanning real estate to banking.
2. The Mediator Trap: Politicians frequently invite the army to settle domestic disputes, effectively giving the referee a jersey and a spot on the field. This dynamic highlights the influence of the military in Pakistan’s socio-political fabric.
3. The Security Narrative: By framing every crisis as an existential threat, the establishment justifies its presence in every sector of public life.

Why do civilian leaders fail to break this loop? The answer lies in the “habit of dependency.” Like a climber who refuses to let go of a frayed safety rope, the political class fears the fall more than the constriction.

The Narrative Arc: A History of Recycled Revolutions

We have seen this film before. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, Nawaz Sharif, and now Imran Khan have all followed the same trajectory: rise with a nod, rule with a struggle, and fall with a crash. Each leader believes they are the exception to the rule until the leash tightens. In March 2025, during a tragic train hostage crisis, the army’s swift resolution was followed by a chillingly familiar critique: the failure was not tactical, but a symptom of “weak civilian governance.”

This rhetoric serves a dual purpose. It validates the army’s necessity while simultaneously eroding the legitimacy of the ballot box. The military does not need to seize power when it can simply wait for the civilians to fail under the weight of their own contradictions. The steady grip of influence the military holds over Pakistan adds another layer to this intricate political landscape.

Conclusion: Breaking the Perpetual Loop

The path forward requires more than just fiery speeches or digital activism. It demands a collective “growing up” of the political elite. Can the parties finally agree to respect the sanctity of the vote, even when it doesn’t favor them? Real change will not come from a single leader’s defiance, but from the quiet, disciplined construction of institutions that do not require a general’s blessing to function.

The military will not retreat simply because it is asked; it will only step back when the civilian vacuum it fills no longer exists. Until then, the cycle of rise and ruin will continue to spin. The ultimate test for Pakistan is whether it can transition from a state managed by men in uniform to a nation governed by the rule of law, free from military influence.

Read more : Ceasefire on the Brink: Why Pakistan’s General Phoned India to Halt the Cross-Border Fire