After he was ousted in April 2022, Imran Khan planned to lead a ‘long march’ that was supposed to storm Islamabad and force the new government to resign.

He named the march ‘Azaadi March’ (freedom/liberation march). Azaadi from what, one might ask? Of course, on the surface it meant freedom from the government that replaced his regime. But underneath the surface lay something a bit more psychological.

Despite the fact that the march was a failure, he has continued to tell his followers to support him if they want azaadi. Since his core constituency is made up of the urban middle classes, one can posit that azaadi in this context means freedom from political complexities that Imran and his constituency feel are restrictive and pitched against them.

Imran’s supporters were largely puzzled by the manner in which his opponents used the Constitution to corner him in the parliament. It won’t be an exaggeration to suggest that, till the day Imran was ousted, the Constitution was nothing more than just a word to most of his supporters. Remember, this is the same class that had supported military dictators such as Gen Ziaul Haq and Gen Pervez Musharraf. Both these gentlemen had dismissively described the Constitution as nothing more than a piece of paper.

Leaders such as Gen Ziaul Haq, Gen Pervez Musharraf and, now, Imran Khan have all fed their followers the idea that they should be ‘liberated’ from constitutional and parliamentary ‘restrictions’

Speaking to an Iranian journalist in 1977, just a month after coming to power, Zia had said: “What is a Constitution? It is a booklet with 12 or 10 pages. I can tear them away and say that tomorrow we shall live under a different system …”  Musharraf, who came to power in October 1999, announced, “I think the Constitution is just a piece of paper to be thrown in the dustbin.” 

Both men saw the Constitution as an impediment to a glorious future that they had envisioned for Pakistan. Indeed, the two generals did eventually find the need to construct new national and provincial assemblies, but these were put in place through unabashed political engineering, and then navigated by amendments to the Constitution that gave the two men extraordinary powers as ‘presidents’. 

In other words, these amendments freed them from being accountable to the processes of checks and balances inherent in the Constitution. To their supporters, the two men were all that mattered. Both also encouraged the depoliticisation of society, especially the youth.

During the first general election held after Zia’s demise in 1988, one often came across young, urban, middle class men and women who had no clue how the parliamentary system actually worked. They could not comprehend the fact that now there was not just one man calling the shots. 

After Benazir Bhutto became prime minister, they complained that she was too ‘indecisive’ and too dependent on the parliament. Therefore, in 1995, during Benazir’s second stint as PM, a ‘pro-middle class’ group led by an organisation called Pasban, and former ISI chief Hamid Gul, began to lobby for a presidential system. They saw Imran as the man who could be brought to power through this system. The parliamentary system was seen as being too complex and restrictive. Not very azaad. 

Pasban and Gul wanted to see the coming to power of a decisive ruler who could be elected as president on the basis of popularity and, more so, would not be hindered by nuisances such as the parliament and the Constitution.

Of course, this was utter naïvete because, even in presidential forms of government, there are parliaments/congresses, senates, robust constitutions, etc. During Imran’s 2014 sit-in (dharna) against the third

Nawaz Sharif regime, a well-known ‘showbiz’ celebrity tweeted “Imran Khan needs a free hand to turn the country around, and for that we need a presidential system.” 

Therefore, when anyone starts to speak about the presidential system, they often mean something close to a dictatorship, in which a single leader at the top wields power that can’t be checked by a parliament or a constitution and/or both are engineered to simply allow the ruler the freedom to do as he/she pleases. 

Imran, on numerous occasions when he was PM, more than implied an opinion that Pakistan needed to be a one-party-state (like China). But here’s the irony. The more he and his supporters talk about azaadi, the more it seems they are talking about a closed, one-dimensional set-up that eschews diversity and difference of opinion.

To those looking for this azaadi, authority must flow from a charismatic leader and is then dutifully dispensed by all state and government institutions. Seeking a consensus through negotiations and debate should be discouraged because this slows things down, or worse, may contradict the wisdom of the leader. 

In this context, azaadi is therefore the freedom to wield power without running into impediments such as constitutional and parliamentary considerations. This azaadi results in instant gratification which populists such as Imran crave. It is also about creating a sense of certainty which, in turn, creates a ‘self’ and identity that is confident and assuring.

Pakistani middle classes are at the core of our version of the consumer society. So, basically, the nature of the aforementioned power, gratification and identity doesn’t really go any deeper than the feeling of power, gratification and identity which is provided by consumer brands. In all likelihood, the middle classes consume politics as they would do consumer products. The leader becomes a product, marketed as a brand that promises to make the consumer feel powerful, gratified and identifiable.

Therefore, all talk of ‘freedom’ in this regard is really as superficial as an advertising slogan. It is a fantasy which promises a freedom which is ‘felt’ and is entirely conceptual. When one smoked a Marlboro, he ‘felt’ like a rugged cowboy, just as IPhone users ‘feel’ they are ‘creative’ folk, and just as buying a one litre bottle of Coke makes one feel he/she is part of a happy joint-family system. 

All this takes place in a conceptual reality, as opposed to a more tangible empirical reality. Conceptual reality can be harmless. But when it is put forth as a political expression, though, things can get complicated. The result is not a Utopia, but a dystopia.

This is what happened in Italy, Germany and Spain between the two World Wars, with the rise of fascism. Repressive, violent dystopias emerged in which, for years, people were made to believe that they were ‘liberated’ from restrictive ideas such as democracy and pluralism. 

This is what Imran’s azaadi is really about. Its materialisation is unlikely but, hypothetically speaking, if it does manage to materialise, it would be about the ‘liberation’ from constitutional and parliamentary considerations, and about the creation of a ghettoised collective ‘self’. 

Published in Dawn, EOS, March 5th, 2023