DEMOCRACY HIJACKED: THEOCRACY & UNIFORM

How Pakistan’s Unelected Power Structures Undermines a Nation’s Promise

When neither the ballot nor the citizen matters, a nation becomes a parade ground for power and a pulpit for propaganda.

The Fork in the Road

In 1947, two nations were born of the same womb—India and Pakistan—each with a shared past but differing visions for the future. India, despite its vast diversity and internal tensions, took the gamble on parliamentary democracy. Pakistan, under the guise of protecting its Islamic identity, fell into the embrace of theocracy and the uniform—one preaching divine mandate, the other enforcing martial control.

Seventy-seven years later, the outcomes speak for themselves. One is now a global economic and military power. The other stands on the brink of collapse, unable to feed its people, failing to convince the world of its credibility, and resorting to nuclear threats to remain relevant.

Theocracy: Power by Divine Proxy

Religion, when spiritual, unites. But when politicized, it enslaves. Pakistan’s religious establishment—enabled by the State—has turned Islam from a moral compass into a political weapon. Over decades, clerics have shaped education, rewritten history, and defined patriotism not by love for the land but by hatred for the “other.”

Ahmadis were the first to be excommunicated. Hindus and Christians were reduced to electoral afterthoughts. Even Shia Muslims—who once formed the elite—now find themselves under siege. Theocracy teaches not how to live with others, but how to outlive them. In Pakistan, it taught generations that their right to exist came at the cost of someone else’s.

It made citizens suspicious of thought, creativity, and dissent. It convinced mothers that martyrdom is more noble than entrepreneurship. It made poverty seem holy and war seem divine.

No theocracy—be it in Iran, Afghanistan, or pre-reform Saudi Arabia—has delivered economic development, innovation, or dignity. Why should Pakistan be any different?

The Uniform: Honest, Yet Illegitimate

The military in Pakistan has long been seen as the most “honest” institution. That may well be true. But honesty does not equal legitimacy.

Since 1958, the military has ruled Pakistan directly for over 30 years and indirectly for another 30. Every time a civilian leader has shown spine, the boots have marched in—first with tanks, then with court-backed removals.

Their argument? That civilians are corrupt, inefficient, and compromised. Even if that were true, democracy demands the people choose their leaders—and remove them. The military’s role is not to govern but to protect governance.

But in Pakistan, the military doesn’t just influence foreign policy—it is the foreign policy. It doesn’t just oversee security—it runs the economy, owns housing societies, media houses, manufacturing units, and universities. The generals aren’t just warriors; they are landlords, broadcasters, and kingmakers.

Even now, when Pakistan is deep in debt, it maintains one of the largest military budgets per capita in the developing world. The IMF lends money for bread, and Pakistan buys boots.

India: Not Perfect, But Possible

Compare this with India—not because India is flawless, but because it is a mirror of what could have been.

India has had corrupt politicians, violent riots, and deep inequality. But it also has an independent Election Commission, a functioning Parliament, a free press, and regular transitions of power. It has moved from importing wheat under PL-480 to exporting defense technology. It produces more unicorns per year than Pakistan’s GDP growth rate.

It has a thriving Muslim population of over 200 million—many of whom lead businesses, win elections, and star in films. They aren’t told to prove loyalty. They are India.

Indians and Pakistanis are genetically the same. What divides them is not culture or courage—but constitution.

The Real Enemy: Silence

In Pakistan today, the average citizen is not the problem. They are the victims. The real enemy is silence—forced, or worse, chosen. A society where no one dares to speak up against sermons and salutes is a society already surrendered.

Even journalists are either jailed, disappeared, or forced into exile. Civil society is crushed. TikTokers now lead political protests—not because of their wisdom, but because all others have been gagged.

A Future Built on Consent, Not Command

Pakistanis must ask themselves: what has 75 years of theocracy and military command given them?

• Has it ended poverty?

• Has it brought regional respect?

• Has it empowered its youth?

• Has it given them global standing?

  
  

No. What it has brought is suspicion, censorship, war, isolation, and an obsession with nuclear blackmail.

If there is a future for Pakistan, it lies in returning to consent over command. Religion must return to the personal sphere. The military must return to the barracks. The people must return to the ballot.

Pakistan must become a country where the mosque preaches faith, not foreign policy; and where the military defends borders, not business deals or ballots.

Conclusion: Dismantling the Dual Tyranny

Theocracy corrupts by teaching one truth, one identity, one enemy. The military crushes by silencing many voices in favour of one command. Together, they create a nation where people no longer dream—but survive.

To the Pakistani people: You are not India’s enemy. You are the victims of an elite that fears your awakening. But the world is watching. And history is patient. Nations fall, but they also rise—when their people remember they are citizens, not subjects.

It is time to rise. Not against your neighbour. But against those who pretend to be your saviours.