Pavan K. Varma | Why did Imran survive the assassin's bullets?

Normally, assassins of top politicians in Pakistan rarely miss their target. The country’s first Prime Minister, Liaqat Ali Khan, was shot dead in 1951. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, a former PM, was literally murdered by Gen. Zia-ul-Haq through a kangaroo court in 1979.  Benazir Bhutto, his daughter, who also served as PM, was killed in 2007.  On November 3 this year, (an) assassin(s) opened fire at Imran Khan in Wazirabad, during his long march to Islamabad. But, although the former PM, world-renowned cricketer and leader of the Pakistan-Tehreek-i-Insaf (PTI) party received four bullets in his leg, he miraculously escaped. Why?

This seminal question has three answers — the growing backlash against the all-powerful Pakistani army and the Inter-Service Intelligence (ISI), the dire straits of the Pakistan economy, and the increasing national popularity of Imran Khan. 

Hitherto, the Pakistani army has dispensed with elected PMs with impunity. Civilian governments were formed with its approval, and removed when they incurred its displeasure. No Pakistani PM has ever completed a full elected term. Imran Khan too came to power in 2018 with the blessings of the army. But then he became too assertive, seeking to pursue aforeign policy independent of the army.  When army chief Gen. Qamar Javed Bajwa — no India lover — wanted to restore trade relations with India, Imran opposed the move for populist reasons. He was in Moscow on an official visit when Russia invaded Ukraine, but did not condemn the attack, which annoyed the army and the US. His unforgiveable mistake — from the point of the army — was when he even meddled in the army’s preserve, directly opposing army chief Gen. Bajwa and backing ISI head Lt Gen. Faizal Hameed against him. He was removed in April 2022 by a no-confidence vote brought by the Opposition, allegedly with the full backing of the army. Imran said he was a victim of a conspiracy backed by the US, a charge Washington denied. 

The army’s expectation was that once removed the former PM would fade away — as others did before him, including his immediate predecessor, Nawaz Sharif who was first disqualified and then convicted on corruption charges. But — in an unprecedented move — Imran Khan decided to take on the army itself. He specifically named three people behind the bullets fired at him — PM Shahbaz Sharif, interior minister Rana Samanulla and ISI Major Gen. Faizal. Appealing directly to the people, he made the clarion call of Haqeeqi Azadi, real democracy, targeted at the undemocratic, unaccountable and corrupt army establishment. The people, in an enthusiastic response to his campaign, chanted: Yeh jo dehshat gardi hai, iske peeche vardi hai. Three months after he was ousted, his party scored a huge victory in the provincial Punjab by-elections in July 2022 — a bastion of the Pakistan Muslim League (Nawaz) — winning 15 of the 20 seats for which elections were held. His ‘long march’ to Islamabad is drawing huge crowds. Today, he is unquestionably the most popular national leader in Pakistan. 

The irony is that Imran is no democrat himself.  He came to power with the support of the army. As PM, he was behind a spate of attacks and abductions of journalists who were critical of the army and the ISI. Nevertheless, he is a charismatic leader who has led a colourful life hobnobbing with the rich and famous across the world, and a cricket legend who has played 148 Test matches and 139 ODIs, having won the World Cup for Pakistan in 1992. The rise of his party, the PTI, has been meteoric. It was founded in 1996; in 2002 it won but one seat in the national election; in 2013 it emerged as the second largest party in Parliament; and, in 2018, the largest. Its primary plank was against the rampant corruption in Pakistan and — in a slogan similar to that in India — the promise of a ‘new Pakistan’ built around Islamic values and liberal economics. 

Ideology means little in the transactional rough and tumble of Pakistani politics. But today Imran’s call for change seems to have the support of the people especially because of the worsening economic crisis within Pakistan. The Pakistan economy is in the ICU. The devastating floods earlier this year have taken a heavy toll. There is uncontrolled inflation, fuel prices are sky-rocketing, the Pakistani rupee has plummeted, and there is a disabling energy crisis. The country is close to bankruptcy, dependent on the resumption of the International Monetary Fund’s bail package of $7.2 billion, which, again, would require unpopular economic steps to be implemented.  64 per cent of Pakistan is below the age of 30. The young, in particular, want a break from the predictable military-civilian yoyo of the past and a better future, and Imran is promising them just that. 

Given this combination of factors, the army and the ISI are on the backfoot. They could, of course — as so many times in the past — impose a military junta, but the consequences of such a step are unpredictable. This time round, the ordinary people of Pakistan may fight back, leading to unprecedented violence and bloodshed that could threaten the invincibility of the army itself. 

That is why, the assassin did not kill Imran Khan. The army-ISI combine wanted to send him a message that he should rein in his attacks on it. At the same time, they did not want to eliminate him, for fear of the popular backlash. It was a closely calibrated strategy, but does not seem to have worked.

Undeterred, Imran Khan has resumed his long march. If early elections are held — and that is his demand — the results, unless rigged, will most likely lead to his return to power. That may not mean a qualitative change in the nature of Pakistan politics. The stranglehold of the army-ISI establishment can never be really written off in Pakistan. It has been the beneficiary of power for too long, and has deep vested interests — including economic — in the perpetuation of the status quo. But a warning has been issued to Imran. The fact that he is not buckling in is what is new in Pakistan politics. In this sense, perhaps, the country is at the cusp of history. What this means for India is something I must leave for another column.