IN a democracy, parliament is not only supposed to legislate; it is also expected to safeguard the national interest and deliberate on key policy matters. That criterion does not seem to apply to our parliament. One seldom witnesses a major foreign or national security issue being deliberated by the ‘representatives’ of the people, and there is hardly any meaningful debate even on critical constitutional amendments and legislation. This ineffectiveness of the country’s highest legislative body reflects the sorry state of democracy against the backdrop of creeping authoritarianism.
Last week, both Houses of parliament approved, within hours and by a two-thirds majority, the decision to remove an elected provincial government and impose a state of emergency and governor’s rule, with no substantive debate. A highly controversial matter was disposed of within hours, with some ministers and leaders of the ruling coalition justifying the action against a provincial government that enjoyed the support of a majority of the members of the assembly, and the arrest of its chief minister and members of his government.
It was obvious that the decision had already been taken elsewhere, and that a parliament of debatable legitimacy was, as usual, expected to rubber-stamp it. Most members may not even have understood the constitutional provisions invoked to declare a state of emergency in a province, or whether those provisions applied to the conditions at hand. It looked like a puppet show. But it was not the first time this parliament blindly toed the line.
Over the past two years, it has passed the 26th and 27th Amendments, virtually destroying the essence of a Constitution that rests on the independence of the judiciary. That was perhaps the most shameful moment in our parliamentary history: ministers were shown the draft only hours before the session, and members were handed it on the floor of the House. Most had not read it when they voted for amendments of critical importance. They were passed overnight.
One can hardly recollect a foreign or national security policy being debated in parliament, nor even in its committees; one wonders whether such policies are discussed and approved by the cabinet at all. The main reason the government has given for its action in KP is that the provincial government was unwilling to cooperate in counterterrorism operations in the province worst hit by the resurgence of militant violence.
The ruling coalition is bound to pay a heavy political price for its undemocratic actions.
But a question that is never answered is whether the state has a well-defined, overarching counterterrorism policy in place, and, if it does, whether that policy has ever been discussed in cabinet, let alone presented before parliament or any of its committees for deliberation. The truth is that we have no clarity on how to deal with this existential threat.
Over the past quarter of a century I have covered and written extensively on Pakistan’s struggle with terrorism, and I can vouch that we have never had a holistic approach to an issue for which the state itself has been responsible. Even now, as militant attacks claim the lives of an increasing number of security personnel, the state is pursuing a one-dimensional policy that relies solely on kinetic operations in the affected areas, with little success. The confusion persists despite the claims of the ‘hard state’.
Balochistan, another strategically located province, has been bleeding for over 25 years with rising separatist militancy. As a result, the state has now lost control of large parts of the province, with an unrepresentative provincial government at the helm. Yet neither the cabinet nor parliament has any say in such a grave national security matter. While the ousted provincial government is being held responsible for the worsening situation in KP, who is responsible for the state of affairs in Balochistan? The reality is that the policy on Balochistan lies outside the domain of the present civilian set-up or the so-called representative parliament.
Unsurprisingly, a critical foreign policy question — Pakistan’s signing of the trilateral Makkah Joint Defence Agreement — has not been ratified, or more precisely rubber-stamped, by parliament. Turkiye, the other signatory to the pact, is still waiting for its parliament to endorse it. It is an extremely important external and internal policy issue, with long-term implications for a country already facing multiple challenges. There is also the question of whether the pact will be activated with the escalation in the Houthis’ attacks on Saudi Arabia.
While a pliant parliament has been conveniently used to rubber-stamp controversial constitutional amendments and laws that curb judicial independence and freedom of expression, there has also been much talk about resetting the country’s administrative structure. The all-powerful and ubiquitous interior minister has publicly declared that the system has collapsed and called for a complete revamp. But what does this projected resetting mean for the present hybrid power structure and for parliament?
There are strong views that emergency rule in KP could be the first step towards extending it to the entire country. Will a parliament that has endorsed emergency rule in KP also rubber-stamp any such action, even though it would further curtail its own powers? One objective of emergency rule is to clear the ground for the resetting of administrative units, an extremely volatile issue for some of the coalition parties, particularly the PPP. The Sindh Assembly has already voted against administrative changes. Still, with the legitimacy question hanging over its head, it would be extremely hard for parliament to resist a measure that would further consolidate authoritarian rule in the country.
The ruling coalition — which has feverishly supported emergency rule in KP, the controversial constitutional amendments that curb judicial independence, and the Peca laws being deployed to control the media — will pay a heavy political price for its undemocratic actions that are paving the way for the winding up of the entire system.
The shadow of authoritarianism looms over the country as a parliament with a dubious mandate has already surrendered whatever little power it had left. The collapse of a system built on a mandate seen as stolen seems imminent, with its patrons planning a new setup. It will be a further leap backward, taking an already unstable state down a dangerous path.
The writer is an author and journalist.
X: @hidhussain
Published in Dawn, October 21st, 2026