After a hue and cry over the 26th Amendment, the country is once again abuzz with debates around the proposed 27th Amendment. But let’s face it, most of what passes for “debate” in Pakistan isn’t much more than noise. Our people, even the most educated among us, have not been trained to think like social scientists. We prefer opinions to analyses, partisanship to reflection, and memory loss to historical context.
A renowned scholar was once asked: what is Pakistan’s real problem? His reply was brutally simple: we have failed to answer two fundamental questions. First, are we a nation-state or an Islamic state? Second, are we a regular state or a security state? Most people don’t even understand these questions, let alone answer them. Without clarity on these two, it is impossible to understand the power struggle that defines Pakistan’s political life.
I add another question: among the 50-plus Muslim countries, how many are true democracies? Or, among the poor nations of the world, how many have genuine democratic systems? Illiteracy, poverty, and democracy rarely go hand in hand. Muslims, historically, have been more comfortable with caliphates, kingdoms, or what we like to call “benevolent dictatorships.” Look at the Middle East or study the Muslim history; strong rulers are often remembered as saviours, not oppressors.
Since its birth, Pakistan’s power elite comprising politicians, bureaucrats, judges, and military establishment have fought to decide who is first among equals. The military, for reasons both structural and historical, gained that position early. It became the one constant in a country where all other institutions are treated as variables.
In the absence of clear national consensus on whether we are a nation-state or an Islamic state, or whether we are a regular state or a security state, the military answered at least one question for itself: Pakistan is a security state, surrounded by real and perceived threats, and therefore the guardian of its sovereignty and territorial integrity must remain central to the state’s functioning.
This does not mean that Pakistan’s military rejects democracy. It simply sees democracy as one of several moving parts in the larger machinery of national security. In Pakistan, the “trichotomy of power” does not mean what it does in the West. Ours has evolved differently. The three pillars are: (i) the political class — parliament and the executive branch within our parliamentary system; (ii) the military establishment; and (iii) the superior judiciary.
The military’s institutional worldview is shaped by its experience of wars, regional insecurity, and weak civilian governance. It does not fully trust politicians to safeguard national security interests, but it is willing to work with them side by side. Hence the “controlled democracy” or “hybrid model”, not as a conspiracy, but as a practical arrangement for a country constantly navigating internal and external pressures.
From the military’s perspective, most politicians have learned (often painfully!) that political success and survival require acknowledging the military’s central role in key state matters. Another belief the establishment holds is that Pakistan needs a long period (perhaps 15 to 20 years) of political stability to achieve sustainable economic and social progress. The hybrid model is seen as a bridge toward that stability, providing a managed environment where the state can function without recurring breakdowns.
Since 2018, the two dominant power centres — the political leadership and the military establishment — have largely been on the same page. First with the PTI (do you remember the statements like ‘Army Chief qaum ka baap hota hai’… ‘Jo fauj ko gali day woh Riasat ka dushman hai’ etc.), and now with the PML(N)-PPP alliance, the understanding remains that cooperation is better than confrontation. The third power, the superior judiciary, is being guided (some would say tamed) to allow the hybrid system to operate without unnecessary turbulence. From the military establishment’s point of view, this is less about subduing judges and more about ensuring institutional predictability and preventing policy paralysis. For a security state, constant institutional friction is not just inconvenient; it is seen as a threat to coherence and continuity.
The judiciary’s record is dismal. From the very beginning, it has danced to the tune of whoever held the baton. Occasionally, a few judges get carried away by their own sense of grandeur or self-righteousness, and that’s when the system moves to “fix” them. The recent constitutional amendments relating to the superior judiciary are just another attempt to chain the unpredictable and discipline the defiant. Interestingly, many politicians also support this Amendment, finding it exasperating to deal with unpredictable, arrogant, and at times narcissistic judges of the superior courts who can dismiss elected prime ministers on a whim or legitimize a dictator’s rule and allow him to amend the Constitution whenever he deemed it expedient.
Seen from this angle, the 27th Amendment should not be read as an assault on democracy or judicial independence. It represents an effort - whether one agrees with its method or not - to align institutions under a more predictable and less volatile system. The Amendment’s emphasis on adjusting the judiciary’s structure and discipline may, in fact, be aimed at avoiding the cyclical confrontations that have historically derailed governance in Pakistan.
The logic is simple: real development needs consistent policy. Investors, foreign partners, and citizens alike need predictability. The military believes that a carefully managed democracy can deliver this continuity without inviting chaos. This worldview is not entirely irrational.
However, the hybrid model also carries risks. It can weaken accountability if politicians rely too much on institutional backing instead of public confidence. It can dull the judiciary’s independence if checks and balances are reduced to compliance. It can create a culture where consensus is manufactured, not earned. If the system must survive and deliver, the focus should remain on strengthening governance capacity, transparency, and rule of law. Only then can the hybrid model evolve into a more organic, self-sustaining democracy.
If the 27th Amendment contributes to long-term political stability, institutional clarity, and an uninterrupted policy horizon, it will have served its purpose. If it merely reinforces old habits under new words, the opportunity will be lost. The conversation, therefore, should not be about who dominates, but how Pakistan can achieve stability and progress in a world where both are increasingly hard to come by.
Copyright Business Recorder, 2025
The writer is a Senior Partner of a law firm, RIAA Barker Gillette. The views expressed in this column do not necessarily represent the views of his firm