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.