Why my mother still supports Imran Khan

Imran Khan’s followers have been called many things — cultish, radicals, trolls, fanatics. Their uncompromising support for Imran leaves many wondering how seemingly intelligent, rational people fail to see any flaws or inconsistencies in the policies and in the personality of their ‘indomitable’ leader. I have often wondered the same in the many conversations I have had with my mother over the past several weeks. Despite the dubious actions of Imran’s administration in the days leading to his ouster, she stands by her leader. While it is difficult to gauge the motivations of millions of people, I have tried to make sense of my mother’s unflappable commitment to Imran.

My mother was never interested in cricket. While she knew who Imran was, I do not think she ever watched him play. Her admiration for him developed after he opened up free, state-of-the-art cancer hospitals, and as he intensified his campaign to combat corruption and advance the rule of law.

Decades earlier, in her own way, my mother had demonstrated her commitment to the rule of law in Pakistan. In 1981, my father, a young high court judge at the time, refused to take the oath under General Ziaul Haq’s Provisional Constitutional Order (PCO). Many of my father’s friends in the judiciary approached my mother and asked her to dissuade him from walking away from a promising career. Little did they know my mother would be the one to ensure my father never wavered in his resolve.

My mother was aware this decision would come at a great personal and professional cost. She knew my father would be without a job, and they would have to give up the life they had built together. She knew their colonial-era mansion in G.O.R, their car, and all the associated amenities would be stripped away overnight. She knew they would have to pull their kids from schools they could no longer afford. She knew they would have to start from scratch in a foreign country with five young children in tow (we moved to England for four years until martial law was lifted in 1985).

And yet, she was willing to make these sacrifices because she knew it was the right thing to do. She knew my father’s decision to give up his office to uphold the constitution was critically important, not just for his own conscience, but for the soul of Pakistan. Perhaps she had hoped it would inspire others and usher in a period of judicial independence and integrity. She was to be disappointed again and again.

And so it was not until 2018 that my mother, an octogenarian, went to the polls for the first time in her life to vote for Imran. She truly believed he would root out corruption, nepotism, and cronyism, and would restore justice and the rule of law in Pakistan. She believed he was the only leader in 30 years who had offered Pakistanis a vision worth fighting for.

In the three and a half years that ensued, that vision remained unrealised at many different levels and, for a variety of different reasons (which we will not go into here), Pakistan slid in Transparency International’s Corruption Perception Index from 126^th position in 2020 to 140^th in 2021. The rule of law continued to deteriorate, with Pakistan ranking 130 among 139 countries evaluated by the World Justice Project’s Rule of Law index. Inflation soared and Pakistan’s dependence on foreign aid grew.

And yet, during that time, when Imran voiced anti-imperialist views at international fora, my mother felt some of Pakistan’s honour had been restored. When he refused to give up Pakistani bases to America, she felt Pakistan had recovered some of its lost dignity. When he spoke out against the war on terror, she felt Pakistan could finally chart its own course on foreign policy.

I realise now that my mother’s continuing support for Imran stems from her deep longing to see Pakistan become an independent, self-respecting, and confident nation. As Pakistan approaches its 75^th birthday, my mother desperately holds on to that dream, and believes its realisation is inextricably tied to Imran.

And yet, I would tell my mother, and the millions who support Imran, that one’s commitment should be to a vision, not a person. When the person propounding that vision falters or falls short, it is for his supporters to push him to do better, and hold him to account. Unquestioning loyalty to one person gets us no closer to the Pakistan we all yearn for.