Democratic values, not technical legalism

On October 11, 2026, the federal government imposed an emergency and governor's rule in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa, bringing the PTI-led administration to an end. The federal government cited the deteriorating security situation to justify its actions. Critics, however, denounce it as a direct assault on provincial autonomy. The situation also raises a question greater than the interpretation of constitutional clauses: can democracy flourish without democratic conventions and restraint?

Driven by PTI's Long March toward Islamabad and deep-seated disagreements over counterterrorism, the confrontation rapidly reached a point of no return. The federal government denounced the protest as a threat to public order, accusing the provincial administration of offering only lukewarm cooperation against regional militancy. Conversely, PTI rejected these allegations, asserting that freedom of movement and peaceful assembly were its fundamental constitutional rights.

Peaceful protest is a democratic right, subject to reasonable restrictions prescribed by law. Similarly, providing security, maintaining peace and acting against violence is an equally vital constitutional duty. Yet, public order must not become a pretext for suppressing political dissent, just as the right to protest cannot justify disregarding public safety.

Although Articles 232 and 234 of the Constitution contain exceptional remedies for emergencies and failures of constitutional machinery, the fundamental question remains whether exercising such power aligns with democratic norms and is democratically justified.

Unfortunately, the political history of Pakistan presents a sobering commentary on the country's democratic development.

On August 22, 1947, just eight days after the independence, the elected government of Khan Abdul Jabbar Khan, popularly known as Dr Khan Sahib, in the then North-West Frontier Province was dismissed on the Governor-General's directives. The Governor of the province, Sir George Cunningham, acted under Section 51(5) of the adapted Government of India Act, 1935, and Khan Abdul Qayyum Khan subsequently formed a Muslim League ministry. Dr Khan Sahib's government had enjoyed the support of the majority.

While Partition, the referendum and deep political mistrust created exceptional circumstances that were used to defend the dismissal, the central question remains: should an elected ministry be dismissed by an executive order, rather than being tested on the floor of the legislature?

That event revealed an enduring weakness: constitutional authority could be exercised having no regard for parliamentary conventions. In 1953, Governor-General Ghulam Muhammad dismissed Prime Minister Khawaja Nazimuddin despite the latter enjoying parliamentary support. In 1954, he dissolved the Constituent Assembly. In 1958, the first Constitution was abrogated and a martial law was imposed. Collectively, these dismissals and the abrogation eroded the democratic fabric and undermined the culture of constitutional restraint. As a result, Pakistan's political history became plagued by repeated disruptions, suffering the routine suspension, abeyance and abrogation of its supreme law.

The Constitution of 1973 is not the provisional framework of 1947. Article 232 addresses specified emergencies; Article 234 concerns circumstances in which provincial government cannot be carried on in accordance with the Constitution. Each is subject to constitutional conditions and safeguards, including parliamentary scrutiny. Their application must be judged by evidence, necessity and compliance with prescribed procedures.

Exercise of authority under the extraordinary provisions also requires careful separation. A security emergency under Article 232 is not synonymous with a constitutional breakdown under Article 234. Each has its own legal touchstone. Regarding the current steps, it is for the parliament and the courts to examine whether the circumstances genuinely satisfy those touchstones, whether other political alternatives were truly unavailable, and whether the measures remain proportionate and temporary. Otherwise, exceptional authority risks becoming routine. That safeguard protects citizens beyond party affiliations.

The federal government asserts that worsening militancy and lack of cooperation warranted intervention. PTI disputes that assessment and sees the decision as negating its electoral mandate. Both claims require independent examination. Had the provincial constitutional machinery really broken down? Had the situation been worse than from 2005 to 2014 when the merged districts were directly administrated by the federal government? Does a political confrontation alone establish constitutional failure?

Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa has remained in the grip of militancy, displacement and economic devastation for decades. Counterterrorism demands cooperation among institutions, professional policing, public confidence and political legitimacy. The 18th constitutional amendment strengthened provincial autonomy precisely because excessive centralisation had developed a sense of deprivation and alienation. But, now, autonomy is circumvented through other means.

The UK presents a useful democratic norm, wherein "His Majesty's Government" and "His Majesty's Most Loyal Opposition" are recognised as legitimate participants in the same constitutional framework. Formal powers are restrained by conventions; political conflicts are ordinarily resolved through Parliament and elections. Opposition is not disloyalty, and governing authority is not a licence to silence opponents.

Such a culture does not occur merely by legislative measures but evolves through sound political traditions. It requires political actors to respect limits even when they possess legal power, and to defend principles regardless of which party governs. Would today's federal parties accept similar intervention in a province they controlled? Would PTI, if governing federally, afford its opponents the autonomy it demanded?

The solution lies in dialogue and political reconciliation. Federal authorities must respect provincial mandates; provincial leaders must meet legitimate security responsibilities. These obligations reinforce, rather than cancel, one another.

The lesson from 1947 to October 2026 is not that constitutional arrangements are identical, but that repeated reliance on extraordinary powers will erode democratic dispensations. Legality is indispensable. Constitutionalism lives in values, conventions, political attitudes and institutional restraint. Without them, even the most carefully written Constitution remains vulnerable whenever power becomes the ultimate objective.