Diaspora's paradox

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What is it that defines reform in a country like Pakistan, where institutions are historically entangled, democratic transitions are routinely interrupted, and politics is a constant struggle between memory and manipulation? Can meaningful change come from diaspora-led advocacy, often rooted in legitimate grievances but shaped by partisan experiences? And more importantly, can it do so without fuelling further division in an already fractured polity?

These are questions that merit consideration as the Pakistani-American diaspora increasingly asserts itself in Washington. With growing influence in US congressional circles, this diaspora has successfully pushed for resolutions and policy conversations that centre Pakistan's human rights violations and democratic backsliding — particularly since the ouster and imprisonment of former prime minister Imran Khan.

While this activism has led to unprecedented congressional engagement, including bipartisan letters and proposed legislation such as the Pakistan Democracy Act, the movement also raises difficult questions about motive, method and memory. Are these efforts truly in pursuit of institutional reform and democratic continuity in Pakistan? Or do they risk becoming selective reckonings — seeking justice for some while ignoring the political complicity of others?

There is no denying that Pakistan's power structures have historically influenced political outcomes in ways that undermined democratic norms. Yet, the current wave of diaspora-led critique — largely emerging after the fall of Imran Khan's government — tends to overlook the fact that PTI itself, now the symbol of resistance, was a significant beneficiary of the same military establishment it now seeks to hold accountable.

For three years, the PTI government governed with the overt support of the powers that be. Its lawmakers — some of whom are now actively lobbying in US Congress — were accused of using state institutions for partisan gain, silencing dissent and maligning political rivals using the same instruments they now decry.

Take Qasim Suri, for instance, whose victory in 2018 was widely criticised as rigged and upheld only through a favourable court stay. Today, he is among those engaging US lawmakers, raising concerns about electoral manipulation and institutional overreach. Where was this alarm when courts, law enforcement agencies and the establishment were allegedly tilted in PTI's favour?

To ignore this context is not just intellectually dishonest — it risks turning a pro-democracy movement into a partisan campaign for selective justice.

Pakistan's political history is littered with instances of civilian governments seeking power through military backing and then lamenting its interference once out of favour. Imran Khan is not the first to have walked this path. From Nawaz Sharif's initial rise in the 1980s to Zulfikar Ali Bhutto's complex relationship with the army, the civilian-military dynamic has always been defined by transnationalism rather than principled governance.

This cycle thrives on institutional breakdown giving way to democratic disruption, compromised judiciary, and accountability becoming a tool of revenge. Calling these abnormalities out is right. But the remedy cannot be one that externalises all blame to a single institution while exonerating politicians who not only enabled but benefited from the system's distortions.

There is also a moral and strategic question about how far diaspora groups should go in inviting foreign intervention in Pakistan's internal affairs. While American citizens have every right to influence US foreign policy - especially when it involves countries of origin - there's a fine line between advocating for human rights and inadvertently undermining state sovereignty.

Pakistan is already grappling with internal fault lines — from rising militancy in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa to insurgent discontent in Balochistan. Calls for targeted sanctions, visa bans or broader punitive measures — particularly those aimed at one institution while ignoring systemic civilian failures — risk deepening instability. More so when these calls come from individuals who were part of, or benefited from, the very system they now seek to dismantle.

In a nutshell, reform must be comprehensive, not convenient.

True democratic reform in Pakistan demands introspection, not just indictment. It must start with recognising that no institution — military, judiciary or civilian — has been immune to abuse of power. The political class must be willing to relinquish its dependence on unelected institutions for electoral success. Civil society, including diaspora activists, must aim to build inclusive narratives rather than polarising ones.

Pakistan's Constitution provides a framework for civilian supremacy, judicial independence and human rights. The battle is not to rewrite that Constitution through lobbying in foreign capitals but to restore its primacy within Pakistan. This is a battle best led by Pakistanis themselves — at home and abroad — but through means that heal rather than harden divisions.

The diaspora's advocacy may have opened space in Washington for a long-overdue reckoning with Pakistan's civil-military imbalance. But it must now choose: will it become a movement for structural reform or remain a campaign for partisan redress? If it is the former, then the focus must shift from personalities to principles, from vendetta to values. Only then can it lay claim to the mantle of democracy and act as a catalyst for genuine transformation in Pakistan.

However, before calling for democratic reforms or rallying the diaspora against Pakistan's power centres, the PTI must first confront its own past. It owes the people — both at home and abroad — an honest admission of how it came to power, the compromises it made, and the support it received from the very institutions it now criticises. It must seek forgiveness from its voters for betraying the ideals of transparency and integrity, and apologise to political opponents whom it vilified in the name of political expediency. Only after this reckoning can its call for reform carry any moral weight.

True democratic change cannot be built on selective memory and partisan narratives — it begins with truth, humility and accountability.