As unfortunate as it is, Pakistan's "democracy" is stuck. It has not evolved or adjusted itself to the needs of the body politic. Our democracy is an illusion that makes us tolerate a system that is not truly democratic, and may never become so. The kind of superficial democracy that we have is part of the problem, that lacks substance and provides legitimacy to a weak political culture. In our vain imitation of the western democratic models, we exhibit the classic case of “cargo cult mentality” - reflecting a belief that by simply emulating the visible aspects of achievement, the real achievement will follow naturally.
The term had been coined after World War II, when the locals in various parts of Melanesia began organising ceremonies that mimicked the rituals of the troops, such as marching up and down, as a means to obtain the cargo from the metal birds (aircrafts). They concluded that the strange rituals of the soldiers caused all kinds of material goods to arrive at the military bases. They prepared their own landing strip in the forest, a full-sized wooden replica of an aircraft, and, undeterred, by an obvious lack of aviation technology, they raised their flags to wave landing signals. They waited. But the planes never arrived.
Similarly, the people of Pakistan have been in an endless wait for democracy to bear its fruit, just as it did in advanced industrialised countries. We long for true democracy as we endure the brutality of hollow institutions and powerful groups that take advantage of Pakistan’s security issues, position of “religion” in its national make-up and its feudal social structure. The political system, or more appropriately, a façade of democracy, that has emerged from these state of affairs has only empowered the privileged elite, and done little for the rule of law and accountability.
In a true democracy, the political class is expected to serve the public interest, maintain accountability, and uphold the rule of law. However, in Pakistan, the politicians have become emblematic of corruption, nepotism, and self-serving agendas. Despite overwhelming evidence of corruption against many political leaders, calling them out is often labelled as an "undemocratic act" or "disrespectful to the system." The democratic process, in theory, allows for public scrutiny and criticism of those in power. However, in practice, Pakistan’s politicians often shield themselves under the guise of “democratic sanctity”, making it difficult to hold them accountable.
The political system, or more appropriately, a façade of democracy, that has emerged from these state of affairs has only empowered the privileged elite, and done little for the rule of law and accountability.
Politicians who embezzle money from the state, accumulate unexplained wealth, or use their offices for personal or political gains continue to enjoy immunity from serious criticism or legal consequences. Their supporters frame any attack on their illegal conduct as a broader attack on democracy itself. This leads to one of the most obvious contradictions of our political system: while democracy is meant to encourage transparency and accountability, in Pakistan, questioning the political class is dismissed as "undemocratic" behaviour. There is no fear of accountability, and no threat to the electability of the ruling elite as the system is rigged in their favour. They do not need people, hence, they do very little for them.
Moreover, the corruption allegations are frequently politicised. Opposition members are conveniently labelled corrupt, while the government occupies itself to protect their own with the full weight of state machinery, be it the law enforcement agencies, accountability bureaus or the judiciary. Thus, while the semblance of democratic checks and balances exist, the integrity of these mechanisms is compromised by the entrenched power dynamics.
This misuse of gender as a defence mechanism reflects Pakistan’s broader cargo-cult approach to democracy—adopting the language and optics of progressive gender politics without the substantive reform that would elevate the role of women in leadership.
In recent years, a new trend has emerged in Pakistani politics—the weaponisation of gender to further undemocratic practices. This misuse of gender as a defence mechanism reflects Pakistan’s broader cargo-cult approach to democracy—adopting the language and optics of progressive gender politics without the substantive reform that would elevate the role of women in leadership.
In a functioning democracy, an independent judiciary is one of the pillars that ensures accountability of the executive and legislative branches of government. It upholds the rule of law. However, in Pakistan, the judiciary is accused of being biased, influenced by political factions, and susceptible to manipulation by the powerful elite. While Pakistan boasts of having an independent judiciary, the reality tells a different story. The courts have historically played a key role in enabling or undermining political forces, whether through controversial rulings, selective application of laws, or questionable interventions in the political process. Yet, any attempt to challenge or question the judiciary's decisions is met with the threat of contempt of court. This creates a stifling environment where the judiciary is both a player and a referee in the political game, but remains insulated from scrutiny. The contempt of court laws have been exploited to protect the judiciary from legitimate criticism, turning the courts into untouchable institutions that can operate without accountability.
The nation’s rulers continue to maintain a veneer of democracy— elections are held after every five years, politicians promise the world to their electorate and when they occupy their offices in the parliament, they conveniently forget their oaths
Pakistan’s cargo-cult democracy does not have just and representative institutions, constitutional liberalism, an equitable social order and a strong rule of law. Our democratic institutions are hollow, and lack democratic substance. Instead of acting as independent bodies of governance that foster a democratic culture, they are co-opted by ruling political parties and powerful elites to maintain their wealth and status.
The parliament, which should be a place for debate and policy-making, often becomes a battleground for personal attacks, political point-scoring, and gridlock. Legislation, that could benefit the wider public, is delayed or derailed because of political vendettas, while policies that enrich the ruling class are passed without sufficient debate. It is a mockery of the people of this state. The election process, though outwardly democratic, is almost always faced with allegations of vote-rigging, patronage, and money influence.
The nation’s rulers continue to maintain a veneer of democracy— elections are held after every five years, politicians promise the world to their electorate and when they occupy their offices in the parliament, they conveniently forget their oaths. They lack moral strength to serve the people. They may be divided in political parties but are united in their vested elite interests. Their fights are about themselves, and within themselves.
Until Pakistan forsakes the superficial imitation of democratic forms and begins to genuinely address the corruption, power imbalances, and institutional weaknesses that plague its political system, it will remain trapped in this cargo-cult version of democracy. True democratic reform requires the political will to implement deep structural changes (a complete overhaul of the system), submission and accountability to the people, and a commitment to the rule of law—values that Pakistan has yet to fully embrace.