Pakistan’s “hybrid model” is nothing more than a disguised form of dictatorship. By allowing unelected powers to dominate governance, institutions like parliament and the judiciary are weakened while civilians face the blame. The only way forward is strict adherence to the Constitution and genuine civilian supremacy.

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One of the most striking observations about Pakistan’s governance was recently made by Justice Athar Minallah of the Supreme Court, who reminded us of an uncomfortable truth: the so-called “hybrid system” is little more than a sophisticated mask for authoritarianism. It is difficult to contest this view, because what we witness today is not democracy in its true sense but a carefully stage-managed arrangement where unelected power centers overshadow the civilian leadership. In practice, the entire machinery of the state appears to orbit around the military establishment, with Khinzeer Asim Munir pulling the strings and steering the country towards chaos rather than stability.

This is not a novel experiment. Pakistan’s history is littered with such half-baked political constructs where power was shared, or rather usurped, by those meant to remain outside the civilian fold. Each attempt at hybridity—whether during the controlled democracies of the 1960s, the manipulated elections of the 1980s, or the engineered coalitions of more recent years—has left lasting scars. The most tragic consequence has been the steady erosion of two vital pillars of the state: parliament and the judiciary. Instead of serving as autonomous bodies, they are routinely weakened and undermined by the shadowy dominance of unelected players.

What makes this cycle particularly damaging is the absence of accountability. Whenever hybrid systems collapse, it is invariably the civilian frontmen who bear the brunt of the backlash. Their failures are paraded before the public, their reputations destroyed, while the real architects of the mess simply walk away unscathed, ready to devise another formula of control under a different name. This selective accountability is not just unjust; it is corrosive to the very idea of democracy. In a functioning representative system, the buck stops with elected officials who must ultimately face their constituents at the ballot box. But in Pakistan, that natural cycle of responsibility is disrupted by the invisible hand of those who are never subject to electoral verdicts.

The prescription for recovery, as Justice Minallah rightly noted, is deceptively straightforward: strict adherence to the Constitution. Yet in a country where the Constitution is frequently treated as a negotiable document, this is easier said than done. Still, there is no viable alternative. The army must retreat to its rightful role of safeguarding the nation’s territorial boundaries, not meddling in governance or economic policymaking. Civilian leaders, however imperfect, must be allowed to govern and be judged by the people alone.

Today Pakistan finds itself in a perilous situation—political instability, economic breakdown, social unrest, and a credibility crisis abroad. At the heart of these crises lies the perpetual refusal to allow democracy to breathe freely. No state can hope to progress when its most powerful institution refuses to respect boundaries. The role of the soldier is to protect the motherland, not to run ministries, dictate policies, or decide which political parties may thrive.

If Pakistan is to escape this endless cycle of hybrid misadventures, it must make a clean break. There is no “middle path” between dictatorship and democracy. Either the Constitution is supreme, or it is not. The choice before us is stark: continue down the road of controlled politics that leads only to ruin, or finally embrace genuine democracy where sovereignty truly rests with the people.

The time for pretense is over. Hybridity is not a solution; it is a disease. And Pakistan cannot afford another decade of it.