“Kaha tha Imran Khan ko na chhedna” (We told you don’t touch Imran Khan). If there’s a single slogan that captures the collapse of Pakistan’s state-citizen contract, this is it. Never since Pakistan’s dismemberment in 1971 has the country faced such a profound crisis. The surreal breach of the army’s General Headquarters (GHQ) is a first of its kind. Already volatile, the arrest of former Pakistani prime minister and leader of the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) Imran Khan, and the storm of consequent protests, has condemned the country’s fundamentals to chance and contingency. Khan’s moral cult status and Islamic populism, lubricated by an imploding economy, is a systemic shock.
The Pakistan army’s political supremacy, institutional cohesion, and mass popularity, have long been articles of faith. Today, all three lie in tatters. Unlike previous instances, the generals don’t have the people’s support, recently faced an acute institutional split that played out in the rivalry between former chief General Qamar Javed Bajwa and pro-Khan former chief of Inter-Services Intelligence Lt. General Faiz Hameed (the wounds of which are yet to heal), and grudgingly accept that they lack the resources to fight arch-adversary, India. Combine this with low public acceptability of traditional political parties, mass support for Khan, and forex reserves dwindling at around US$4-5 billion, and the gravity of Pakistan’s distress becomes clear.
From historically skewed civil-military relations, to strategic mistakes such as sponsoring regional terrorism, or “managing” democracy by selecting and rejecting prime ministers at will, the current state-of-play has multiple births. Given the gestation period of this crisis, the most pressing question, unsurprisingly, is not why, or even why now. It is, as many are asking, what now? After all, the army, unsure about former (elected) prime minister Nawaz Sharif, curated Khan’s rise in 2018. That Khan will become a Frankenstein’s monster similar to their other proxy, the Afghan Taliban, was, sadly, lost on the generals.
Before one attempts to answer what next, it is essential to rid ourselves of some red herrings. One, the argument that there can’t be a coup because the army doesn’t want to take the responsibility of a failing economy is disingenuous. Coups don’t always require direct military control over civilian institutions. Pakistan witnessed a judicially curated military coup when Nawaz Sharif was ousted in 2017. What we’re seeing today is that coup gone wrong, and the army already is responsible for economic dysfunction. This has substantially increased the chances of what many believe to be a “real” coup. Two, the judiciary is certainly powerful, making it a politicised pole. But, it has also been on the receiving end of the army’s manipulative and coercive power. This has rendered it more fragmented than ever in a decade. Three, this is no democratic revolution against a corrupt establishment. This is an ugly fight for power.
Instead of offering futile forecasts of an uncertain situation, the best, if suboptimal, method to understand what next is to focus on the positionality, strength, and endurance of key colliding power centres. First, there is the army with its coercive capabilities, institutional moorings, and allies in the Bhuttos and Sharifs. Opposing this formation is Khan with huge mass support, including from certain Islamic conservatives and militants, and insider allies in the establishment. If the former is politically embattled but militarily capable of unleashing violence, the latter is limited in its coercive capabilities — despite visible disruptive capabilities — but politically powerful. The direction of this battle depends on two swing factors. One, the calibre of pro-Khan protestors, and two, the army’s ability and willingness to counter it.
On the second count, the military has already stepped into Punjab. As scholar Zoha Waseem’s seminal work on Pakistani policing shows, the rangers have significant powers, are not shy to press the trigger, even when not needed. They will operate under the army’s command. This is the first of many steps that indicate an inching towards what many understand as a real coup. Even if the army succeeds in restoring the graveyard’s peace, it will continue to fail on the political front given the legitimacy deficit and its incompetence to govern. This situation portends more state-led violence than less. If regional comparisons are of any value, this is what happened in Myanmar in 2021 when Min Aung Hlaing miscalculated the support for Burman-Buddhist populist Aung San Suu Kyi, doubled down on anti-coup protestors, and is now reduced to a tinpot dictator afloat on drug profits. Pakistan’s situation, from populism to drugs, is not dissimilar.
As for the endurance of pro-Khan protests, the army is calculating that these will die down, and a faux trial followed by Khan’s prolonged imprisonment and elections will take care of the rest. This is possible. But the catch is that such political trials offer succour to even dying movements. Khan enjoys messianic appeal in Pakistan, and his trial could fuel the protests that the army wants to rid itself of. The choice then is between a short trial with violent protests, or a longer trial with, most probably, equally violent protests. Couple this with the spanner the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan — with whom Khan maintains an entente cordiale — may throw into the mix, and we’re looking at diversification of anti-establishment insurgencies in the near future.
This must make us rethink a related aspect. If one cynically views this saga as an extension of intra-army rivalries, that is, Hameed and his allies propping up Khan against Bajwa, Munir and their civilian allies, then the political value of Khan has dropped just as drastically as his popular appeal has shot up over the last 36 hours. With people out on the streets, Khan has few other cards to play. If him being alive is a pain for Munir and co., him being a martyr could be an asset for Hameed and co. This explains why Khan has been so paranoid about being killed — his political power is only matched by acute physical vulnerability.
Whichever direction the situation develops, there are no good options for Pakistan. The choice is between an Islamic populist with autocratic tendencies and few practical solutions to structural problems, and a corrupt, politicised military, which is just as clueless on policy as it is determined to remain in power. This is a dangerous situation not just for Pakistan, but also for neighbours, especially India. Pakistan may not have the fuel to fire its tanks, but the ongoing tumult could undermine the leftovers of rationality that hold a badly needed ceasefire at the Line of Control. If even top Pakistani journalists seek to “court martial” Bajwa for admitting the army’s inability to fight India, it is clear that we’re scraping the bottom of the proverbial barrel of sanity.
Avinash Paliwal teaches at SOAS University of London and is the author of My Enemy’s Enemy: India in Afghanistan from the Soviet Invasion to the US Withdrawal
