On November 13, Imran Khan, the incarcerated founding chairman of Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf, gave the final call for his release, among other demands. Since it was the final call, expectations were high that the PTI leadership would emerge, descend on the capital and stay put until their demands were met. Party workers hoped that the leadership would come up with a different plan to achieve the objectives this time around and would not abandon them like the previous occasion.
Usually, it takes a couple of hours to reach Islamabad from Peshawar. But given the blockades set up with heavy containers, teargas shelling and clashes with law enforcers deployed on the way, the party workers led by Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa Chief Minister Ali Amin Gandapur accompanied by Imran’s wife, Bushra Bibi, took almost three days to finally reach the edge of the planned destination: D-Chowk. Some even entered the Red Zone, forcing the law enforcers to briefly retreat.
For a brief period, they captured the high-security zone, roamed freely and even sat on the containers placed there, leaving the government red-faced. However, the batch of protestors soon realised that they were the only ones standing face-to-face with the security officials as the party leadership had stayed at a distance from the promised venue. This lack of coordination between the workers and PTI leadership allowed the government to regroup. The scene quickly changed as the authorities wrest back control of the situation.
By then, it was evident that the much-touted final call would soon fizzle out. The absence of key party leaders and any reasonable strategy added insult to injury – which the party leaders have questioned, asking where were all those who have been sitting in the assemblies after winning the elections in the name of Imran Khan. And, as the sun set, the lights were switched off and an operation was launched on the capital’s Blue Area road. Next, the protestors were not only pushed back but faced betrayal once again as they were abandoned by the leaders present in the rally as well as those who had urged them to come out. As Gandapur along with Bushra disappeared from the scene, the protest quickly fizzled out amid an onslaught by the law enforcers. Within hours, the government ministers showed up at D-Chowk and announced that PTI leaders had “fled” the scene.
Since then, the discussion moved back into the virtual space where both sides have their own versions of the event, especially, on the reported tragic deaths of PTI workers as well as security officials. What is more tragic is that the number of deaths keeps on changing with different PTI leaders putting the number from 12 to over 250. The government side not only denies the same but seeking proof of firing at the protestors and details of the deceased persons, accuses PTI of spreading ‘false’ narrative through, what it has called, old posts of footage.
Nevertheless, the reported deaths of PTI workers in Blue Area and security officials in other areas during clashes between PTI protestors and government forces serve as a grim reminder of the dangerous path Pakistan’s politics has taken. What has emerged is not only a protest spiralling out of control but a reflection of a deeper crisis: the transformation of political rivalry into hostility where opponents are no longer seen as rivals to be debated but as foes to be eradicated.
Democratic engagement has taken a back seat. Leadership and their supporters have started to see the opponents through the lens of existential threats. Polarisation, populism and rhetoric of destruction are dominating the political chessboard and have become a hallmark of the political discourse. This divide has not just added fuel to the aggression on the streets as well as in the virtual world but led to a deeper division in society as well as in the political arena; both in and outside the Parliament.
The reason is simple: the political forces have a keen desire to align with the powerful stakeholders, no matter the price. The competition has intensified the crisis as the political players keep on seeking proximity to the influential players, believing this is the only way to secure power. This has also promoted the culture of political enmity, occasionally leading to political violence in democratic periods. Moreover, another dangerous aspect of the whole situation is that political forces are not even trying to find a common ground beyond optics.
The belief that opposing viewpoints can peacefully coexist is either vanishing or being replaced by other ideas, such as using force to make ones demands met. The desire to become victorious often equates to eliminating the other side completely from the scene, taking the political rivalry to another level having devastating consequences. The result is an unending cycle of confrontation where no one seems to be willing to take a step back and normalise the tense situation.
Competitors turned enemies
What Pakistan is experiencing is not an isolated phenomenon. Across democracies worldwide, polarisation and populism are on the rise, creating conditions where political violence is no longer a distant possibility but becoming a reality. Michael Grant Ignatieff, a Canadian political thinker, author, academic and former politician, warns of the dangerous threshold societies cross when political opponents are viewed as enemies.
In his essay ‘The Politics of Enemies’ published in Journal of Democracy, Ignatieff states that a politics of enemies treats political opponents as threats who must be eliminated or destroyed, saying the core accusation is that the opponents aim to lay waste to democracy itself. “Since the threat they pose is existential,” he writes, “all means that might be used to combat them are fair.” Restraint becomes a sign of weakness, he adds, saying the goal is “to crush your enemies and see them driven before you” while winning total victory for your own side.
“A politics of enemies is venomously personal,” Ignatieff maintains before adding that its purpose is to deny the opponent standing, that is, the right to be believed or even to be taken seriously. He explains that the attacks on the past, the character, the financial assets, and even the family of an opponent are designed to ensure that when an opponent speaks, listeners do not listen, because they have been persuaded that the opponent cannot be trusted. “Attack a candidate’s standing and you do not have to bother with their ideas or campaign agenda,” he stated, adding the crucial way to deny standing is to question the patriotism of the opponent, to raise doubts about their commitment to widely shared values. “When standing is effectively denied,” he writes, “the opponent is no longer a competitor: They have become an enemy.”
This philosophy, rooted in the idea that political opposition is a threat, is dangerously alive in Pakistan. Surprising as it may seem, it mirrors world’s most influential writer George Orwell’s insight into political language: “Political language... is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable,” Orwell writes, arguing that the manipulation of language and rhetoric has created a climate where violence is increasingly justified as a necessary response to political adversaries. The Blue Area clashes epitomize this dangerous cycle. They were not just a moment of unrest but also the culmination of years of inflammatory rhetoric and growing populist fervour. Each side—government and opposition—sees the other as an existential threat, leaving little room for dialogue or reconciliation.
A way forward
The erosion of dialogue amid growing politics of enemies is eroding public trust in not just politicians but in the very structures of governance. Using violence, once a last resort, as a legitimate tool to achieve political goals has far-reaching consequences. As opposed to countries where institutions are strong and functional, Pakistan’s democratic structure is already fragile, thus, the stakes are even higher. The recent violence highlights how quickly a political contest can devolve into chaos, leaving death and destruction in its wake.
In Pakistan, the political elite faces a critical choice, raising questions if they will continue down the path of polarization and populism, or will they take steps to rebuild trust and restore democratic norms. The answer lies not just in policy or rhetoric but also in the willingness to see political opponents as rivals, not enemies.
The events in Blue Area are a warning: the politics of enemies leads only to destruction. If this moment does not serve as a wake-up call, Pakistan risks plunging further into a cycle of violence that could irreparably damage its democratic fabric. Political leaders must rise above the fray and prioritize dialogue, compromise and the greater good. Otherwise, the politics of enemies will claim not just lives but the future of democracy itself.