If anything, the present nexus between the military establishment and the toothless civilian leadership has shown that it is difficult to have a fair space for criticism and dissent in Pakistan.

In yet another flummoxing display, Pakistan has charged the opposition leader in the National Assembly with treason. Mehmood Khan Achakzai, Chairman of the Pashtunkhwa Milli Awami Party (PkMAP), has been booked and charged with treason for his remarks at a public meeting in Balochistan. Achakzai is the president of Tehreek Tahaffuz Ayeen-i-Pakistan (TTAP), a multi-party opposition alliance formed to protect the Constitution of Pakistan, which, according to the opposition, is under attack from the military establishment, with the support of the government.

Although a long practice in the country, using the draconian law to silence critics of the military establishment/government has picked up in recent years. One reason for that is the nature of the present ruling administration.

It is interesting to see that the scope of these laws has expanded; now the political opponents of the existing “hybrid model” of government in Pakistan, as Defence Minister Khawaja Asif calls it, have borne the brunt of the sedition laws for their criticism of the government, or the hybrid regime, to put it in its truest description. The civilian leadership is forced to mitigate the adverse effects of the model simply because it cannot be in government or run functions if it were to break ties with the military establishment. That being the case, the civilian part of the model is subservient to the military establishment. How can that be called even a “hybrid model”?   

The civilian leaders act as intermediaries, while the military establishment pulls the strings on every decision. No wonder that in the last couple of years, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif, Defence Minister Khawaja Asif, and others have been currying favour with the country’s security forces, even on the economy. Prime Minister Sharif, known for his unhinged use of praise to extract favours from powerful personnel, went beyond even his own previous injudicious acts and said on an occasion recently that “History will always remember the wise and courageous leadership of the field marshal (Asim Munir) in golden words.”

Such flattering words from the Prime Minister tell a lot about the nature of the current model of governance in Pakistan: the civilian leaders will act on behalf of or for the military generals, and critics will bear the brunt.   

Achakzai’s case is not the only one. On a similar pattern, in yet another high-profile case, former Prime Minister Imran Khan was charged with treason for a rather bizarre accusation. Several activists and political opponents have been sent to jail after being charged with the draconian law.

All these cases are nothing but a mockery of such a serious penal law. While Imran Khan was accused of wrongfully dissolving parliament in 2022, Achakzai’s case is more interesting: he is charged with treason because he questioned the law and order situation in Balochistan and said that the government had failed to provide security to the people. There is no shortage of reports, even statements from the military establishment and the government on the situation in Balochistan that would mean the same, but it coming from the opposition leader is chargeable with the harshest possible penal code in the country, underscoring the strict policy of the current administration towards its opponents.   

More importantly, the case against the Opposition Leader in the National Assembly exposes the nature of politics in Pakistan. Essentially, the crux of the issue is that the military establishment is domineering in the present ruling political system, and any criticism of an issue points towards the failures of the military establishment. And given the stakes of Field Marshal Asim Munir in the system, the Army is unlikely to tolerate that. Therefore, conformity is sought in every case, at every possible cost.

It also shows that Pakistan’s perennial political crisis has taken a life of its own. There is no sign of it getting resolved. The Pakistani State has taken a clarion call: everyone must conform to the current administration, i.e., the military establishment, the deep state and its coterie in the civilian power circles.    

Historically, the military has dominated the country’s politics. Its domestic and foreign policies have been shaped by the generals. Even domestically, it is well documented that the military has “groomed” and “appointed” leaders in the country.

In politics, it is said that nation and state function as synonyms; in Pakistan, the military establishment and the state function as synonyms. So, any criticism against the military means the state is criticised. Such criticism therefore begets a strong punitive and legal response, including the charges of sedition. 

The story does not end here. Given that the military establishment is deeply involved in the government, any criticism, therefore, against the government is interpreted as a criticism against the military, and thus against the state. And there is a long list of such cases in Pakistan. Some of these include the cases of Baloch and Pashtun activists. In such cases, the people who have questioned the government policies towards Balochistan and Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa (KP) have been accused of treason and put behind bars.  

Almost the entire leadership of Baloch Yekjehti Committee (BYC), a non-violent Baloch organisation mainly comprised of the Baloch whose relatives have been victims of enforced disappearances, is in jail. So is the former member of the National Assembly and Pashtun activist, Ali Wazir. Wazir has been behind bars for a long time on treason charges for questioning the policy of the military operations and their impact on the common Pashtun in KP. Ali Wazir has spent a good share of his life in jail. He was arrested a few hours after he was released on bail on 26 March. The cases against Wazir are various sedition cases.  

Likewise, Mahrang Baloch, a Baloch and doctor by profession, along with others, is facing multiple cases of sedition. Even if she gets some relief or bail in one case, other cases are invoked to keep her behind bars. The same method is used against the people who support or defend activists in the courts of the country. Imaan Mazari and Hadi Chattha, advocates who are fighting cases of several victims of state violence, have been booked, charged and sentenced to 17 years of imprisonment for social media posts that were critical of the country’s security institutions.  

If anything, the present nexus between the military establishment and the toothless civilian leadership has shown that it is difficult to have a fair space for criticism and dissent in Pakistan. Now, since the military establishment has increasingly taken control of the country into its hands, any civilian leadership or government is symbolic. Naturally, any criticism directed at the government will be seen as criticism of the military establishment. Therefore, in all likelihood, draconian laws like treason and others will be employed more to frighten and curb dissenting voices in Pakistan. 

In this military power grab, the role of Pakistan’s major political parties has been one of facilitation.

Pakistan is living through a quiet constitutional gerrymandering whose ramifications are not loud street protests. Rather, there is a slow and a methodical shift being orchestrated by an increasingly assertive military establishment, which is duly enabled by pliant political parties eager to comply. The objective of this change is simply to transform Pakistan into a military-dominated hybrid authoritarian system with a façade of civilian executive.

The chief architect of this new order is Field Marshal Asim Munir, inarguably Pakistan’s most powerful army chiefs ever. Under his tenure, the military has moved beyond the historical pattern of backstage control and intermittent coups. Instead, the goal now appears to be structural dominance embedded into law, bureaucracy, and constitutional text to make military supremacy not an aberration but the core of the state.

This transformation did not happen overnight though. It began with seemingly smaller amendments to Pakistan’s military laws (Army/Air Force/Navy) in 2023, which were endorsed by the political parties without protest both inside and out of the National Assembly. These changes expanded the reach of military courts, allowing civilians to be tried under military jurisdiction.

This followed the violent anti-government protests of May 9, 2023, when protestors targeted dozens of military installations across Pakistani provinces, including Lahore and Peshawar. Besides hundreds of protestors, the most high-profile target of this expanded legal control has been former Prime Minister Imran Khan, who remains imprisoned alongside his wife, Bushra Bibi, facing dozens of cases that critics argue serve political rather than judicial ends.

From there, the military’s influence has migrated deeper into civilian space. Munir’s consolidation included the time-tested policy of parachuting military officers into key civilian institutions such as NADRA, WAPDA, SUPARCO, among others. The appointment of Lt. Gen. Asim Malik, the Director-General of Pakistan’s powerful intelligence service, ISI, and as National Security Adviser marked an unmistakable shift.

This significant civilian post which traditionally functioned as the bridge between civilian governance and military command was no longer a boundary at all. But the most significant restructuring has come through constitutional amendments. The 26th Amendment, passed in late 2024, expanded the tenure of military service chiefs from three to five years, with potential extensions matching those expanded terms.

This effectively allows a single military chief to shape Pakistan’s governance for more than a decade, as is the case with Asim Munir who seems poised to be in office till 2032 at least. In parallel, the amendment broadened the government’s role in judicial affairs, tightening political oversight over judicial appointments and administration. Judiciary was the last bastion where the military establishment could not otherwise influence directly.

The latest the 27th Amendment goes even further. It formalized Munir’s new role as Chief of Defence Forces (CDF), a new title that elevates the Army Chief as the overarching commander of Pakistan’s military forces. It also granted him an enhanced role in the management of the country’s nuclear assets, otherwise overseen by the prime minister led strategic command.

While Pakistan has long been a nuclear-armed state under tight military control, the legal codification of this role marks a decisive break from earlier ambiguity. As such, the civilian oversight, which was anyway already weak, is now further downgraded.

It is true that power consolidation by military leaders is not new in Pakistan. From Ayub Khan to Zia ul-Haq and Pervez Musharraf, all have reshaped the political system in their favor but only after military coups. However, what distinguishes the current phenomenon is how seamlessly key civilian institutions, particularly political parties, have not only accepted this shift but overtly and covertly facilitated this power grab.

Moreover, the 27^th Amendment practically split Pakistan’s highest judicial institution of Supreme Court into two by creating a new Federal Constitutional Court (FCC) while significantly reducing the Supreme Court’s discretionary powers such as suo moto. The amendment’s timing and intent are unmistakable as this restructuring limits the SC’s ability to overview the military-driven changes now being encoded into law.

As such, the judiciary, which was once seen as an unpredictable check on military authority, is now practically subdued. This has made Pakistan’s courts being increasingly viewed not as arbiters of the constitution but as instruments to legitimize the very forces reshaping it.

In this military power grab, the role of Pakistan’s major political parties has been one of facilitation. Far from resisting creeping military dominance in civilian affairs of the state, they appear to be competing for its approval, demonstrating how civilian leadership remained conditional on military favor.

Take the role of Sharif family’s Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N). The party ostensibly became the biggest beneficiary of the military-backed removal of Imran Khan’s government in 2022. Shehbaz Sharif became prime minister for the remainder of the National Assembly’s tenure. Interestingly, it was during this period that the PML-N government appointed Asim Munir as Army Chief bypassing several of his senior officers.

But its reward came soon when the party received the dividends of military’s electoral engineering during the controversial 2024 general elections positioning Shehbaz Sharif to form the government once again. Likewise, the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP), once the standard-bearer of civilian resistance to military authoritarianism, is willingly playing an equal accomplice to PML-N in facilitating the military’s entrenchment.

What has consequently emerged is a political landscape where parties no longer seek to govern through popular mandate, institutional accountability, or democratic legitimacy, if at all there is any, but through proximity to the military. While the façade of democracy is still visible, but the center of gravity has shifted decisively towards military.

What this translates into is a form of managed system where rituals may remain but the outcomes are predetermined. And the consequences of this system will be far-reaching. It is true that Pakistan has long struggled with the balance between civilian authority and military dominance. But what distinguishes the current phenomenon is how its political class is willingly facilitating the establishment’s creeping dominance and how the military is shedding the façade of its backstage control.

As such, democracy in Pakistan, however fragile it was, is not fading with a dramatic collapse but is being dismantled through amendments, appointments, legal reforms, and political bargains; all in piece by piece.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

Pakistan’s pattern of dependence—on U.S. security guarantees, Chinese investment, Iranian goodwill—makes it a client state, not a sovereign actor on the world stage.

Amid the fiery conflict between Israel and Iran, Pakistan’s military finds itself walking a geopolitical tightrope: publicly aligning with Iran, even hinting at nuclear retaliation against Israel, while simultaneously clinging to U.S. military favor in its campaign against Iranian nuclear assets.

This schizophrenic stance underscores a decades‑long pattern: Pakistan’s “deep state” and its military‑intel establishment have repeatedly sold the nation’s sovereignty to whichever patron offers the greatest leverage. The result? An arrested development and chronic underachievement.

Last week, Iran’s IRGC commander Mohsen Rezaei claimed on state television that “Pakistan has told us that if Israel uses nuclear missiles, we will also attack it with nuclear weapons”. Pakistan neither publicly confirmed nor denied the claim. Yet within days, its foreign ministry condemned U.S. airstrikes on Iran’s nuclear sites—Fordow, Natanz, Isfahan—calling them “gravely concerning” and flagging possible regional escalation.

This denunciation came just after Pakistan endorsed President Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize over his de‑escalation efforts with India. In barely a 48‑hour span, Islamabad praised Trump for stabilizing South Asia and then rebuked his bombs.

Meanwhile, Pakistan’s army chief Field Marshal Asim Munir was in Washington for a lavish White House lunch—where Trump publicly lauded Pakistani restraint after the India‑Pakistan missile flare‑up in May. This whitewashing of Islamabad’s contradictions—welcoming Pakistani nuclear diplomacy while supporting the strikes—reveals much about the transactional nature of this partnership.

Deep State by Design

Pakistan’s military establishment, colloquially “the deep state,” has never seen itself as servant, but rather as master. Since 1947, it has orchestrated coups, mediated foreign policy, and directed economic as well as strategic priorities. Civilian governance remains a veneer. Power accrues through Pakistan’s full‑spectrum nuclear deterrence doctrine—designed less for defense than for bargaining over India, the U.S., and other regional powers.

The economic cost of this grandstanding is steep. Decades of diverting scarce resources into military programs—sometimes backed by Chinese or U.S. aid, sometimes clandestinely through nuclear proliferation networks like A.Q. Khan’s—have starved Pakistan of investment in education, health, infrastructure, and industry. Its economy limps under chronic debt; urban centers are choked; public services are threadbare.

Selling the Nation to the Highest Bidder

This Faustian bargain continues. Pakistan courts the U.S. when it needs military hardware, diplomatic cover, and economic relief. As soon as Washington turns, Islamabad pivots to Iran—or China, or Russia. Recent Indian‑express analysis notes Islamabad’s “delicate balancing act” shaped by anxieties over India and a need for U.S. patronage. But the result is strategic incoherence and international mistrust.

The core of the problem is corruption at the top. The deep state uses its clout to capture resources. Elite groups extract rents from development budgets, shield militant proxies, and arrogate foreign policy. Civil society and democracy exist in name only; real power resides with generals who see the nation as a chessboard. As a result, growth stalls, inequality deepens, and Pakistan’s potential remains unrealized.

The Nuclear Catch‑22

Pakistan’s flirtation with nuclear brinkmanship—hinting at retaliation for Israel, pointing B‑2 bombers at Iran—exposes the inherent contradiction: nukes are for deterrence, not diplomacy. Instead of a mature nuclear strategy aimed at securing peace and economic stability, the military uses nuclear ambiguity for maximum geopolitical returns. That has brought fleeting headlines and foreign funds, but no sustainable development.

Pakistan must ask itself: is it raising its geopolitical profile, or holding itself back through strategic schizophrenia? Its pattern of dependence—on U.S. security guarantees, Chinese investment, Iranian goodwill—makes it a client state, not a sovereign actor on the world stage.

A Way Forward: Decouple the Deep State

For Pakistan to unlock its potential, it must dismantle the deep‑state’s monopoly. Demilitarize foreign policy, entrust civilian leadership with economic and diplomatic agendas. Cut off free rides to jihadi proxies that generate short‑term geopolitical cachet but long‑term global isolation. Redirect resources from nuclear brinkmanship into clean energy, literacy, and healthcare.

Otherwise, Pakistan’s “balancing act” is nothing but a balancing of bids: play the U.S. for aid, Iran for regional rapprochement, China for infrastructure—until the next pivot. But each shift deepens instability and stifles growth. The people, not the generals, suffer.

In the end, only a break from this militarized cycle—an embrace of genuine democracy and domestic investment—can free Pakistan from being the world’s perpetual geopolitical rentier. Anything less is selling its soul, again.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.