New York, Oct 3 — It has become predictable for the leaders of Pakistan to sell a concocted narrative that hardly has any buyers. The saying that best describes this commonplace practice of the country's ruling elite from different parties is – the more things change, the more they stay the same.
As domestic politics remains gravely polarised and the economy is in shambles, the ruling alliance has been trying its best to utilise international platforms for its unsubstantiated polemics, which are unlikely to have any impact. No foreign visits to peddle a specific narrative can obscure the ruling alliance's domestic political instability, economic collapse, and skyrocketing inflation.
The grim situation at home makes it exceedingly difficult for this "hybrid" regime — as Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif's government is labelled by some — to convince international commentators and global actors to buy into its rhetoric.
Sharif’s address at the United Nations (UN) followed this exact, predictable trajectory.
In his speech to the 81st Session of the United Nations General Assembly, Sharif maintained his strategy of placating and courting the country’s powerful military establishment. This pattern originally took root during the fallout between then-Prime Minister Imran Khan and the military. The alliance was cemented when the military ensured that the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N) took power through a coalition, while successfully keeping Imran Khan’s Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf — sidelined.
Furthermore, Prime Minister Sharif has not even attempted to conceal the imbalance within this nexus. Whatever the military decides, the civilian government ensures it is implemented. This subservience is evident in the introduction of the radical and sweeping 26th and 27th Amendments, which undermined judicial independence and further consolidated the military's authority. Ultimately, the role of the civilian administration has been reduced to overseeing execution and laundering the policy narratives dictated by the military establishment.
Critics frequently question which world leaders would praise the country’s military at an international forum — meant to address global challenges and project national integrity — for such narrow domestic purposes. Yet, civilian leaders in Pakistan find themselves compelled to do exactly that. They know it well that if the true masters are displeased, no civilian leader can expect to remain in power.
While Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif may have attempted to downplay the stark imbalance in Pakistan's military-dominated power structure, this submission became glaringly obvious during his UNGA address. Referring to the May 2025 border clashes — which erupted after India launched a military riposte to a heinous terrorist attack in Pahalgam that claimed the lives of 26 civilians — Sharif deliberately highlighted the military's supremacy. Even on this global platform, he went out of his way to praise the Chief of Defence Forces (CDF), stating, “Our brave and valiant armed forces, under the courageous leadership of Field Marshal Asim Munir, responded with precision and professionalism.” In May, on the occasion of Eid, the Premier had personally called Field Marshal Asim Munir to greet him.
Far from being an aberration, this subservience has been a defining feature of the Sharif administration: maintaining power by capitulating to the military's dictates and systematically validating its supremacy on the global stage.
Furthermore, Sharif’s declaration at the UN — warning that “any attempt to stop, impede or divert Pakistan’s share of the waters will be treated as an act of war” — is riddled with such glaring contradictions that it has lost all credibility on the global stage. Consider the most obvious dissonance: first, India has never threatened to weaponise water as a punitive measure regarding cross-border terrorism. Second, the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) has merely been placed in abeyance, not abandoned or formally terminated.
Third, and most critically, 16 months have elapsed since New Delhi suspended the treaty in April 2025. Throughout this extended period, Islamabad has continuously claimed that it would consider "weaponisation" of water as an act of war; yet, no tangible retaliatory action in the sixteen months exposes its claim that India was “weaponising” water.
Ultimately, the world is left to question what should be taken seriously: Pakistan’s claim that India is “weaponising” water, or its warning that it will wage war over the issue? As it turns out, neither narrative holds weight, and global observers treat them accordingly.
Had India actually begun “weaponising” water — a move Pakistan has repeatedly labelled a definitive red line — Islamabad would have actively gathered empirical evidence to mobilise international opinion, even if it abstained from military conflict. It has failed to do so because its claims lack substantiation. Furthermore, if India had crossed this supposed red line and Pakistan still hesitated to take kinetic action, it merely implies that its military leadership understands it cannot match India—a perfectly logical conclusion.
This stark contradiction highlights the deep irony within the regime’s dual messaging: issuing severe ultimatums while simultaneously attempting to project an aura of peace and a preference for diplomacy. Siding with the Prime Minister, an editorial in a prominent Pakistani daily, The Express Tribune, argued that “the PM's insistence that dialogue must retain primacy is both prudent and consistent with Pakistan's own interests.”
Yet, this external plea for prudent dialogue stands in stark contrast to the ruling alliance's domestic behaviour. At home, the regime rejects the very concept of negotiation, preferring instead to ruthlessly suppress its political opponents, dismantle democratic checks, and deploy state machinery to crush any dissent—proving that its international calls for "peaceful dialogue" are merely a theatrical performance for global consumption.
This domestic repression is perfectly illustrated by the targeting of Pakistan’s most popular political leader, Imran Khan, who remains incarcerated under a 14-year prison sentence on what independent monitors widely condemn as fabricated charges. Simultaneously, the federal government is engineering an aggressive campaign to impose Governor's Rule — or a state of emergency — in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP), the only province outside the ruling alliance's grip.
While the federal regime disingenuously points to a surge in regional militancy to justify this overreach, its actions expose a massive institutional contradiction: the military has spent years conducting high-profile operations and claiming it completely eradicated these terrorist networks. By training the spotlight exclusively on the provincial administration, doesn’t that imply that an attempt is being made to shield the military establishment from scrutiny?
Ultimately, empty proclamations cannot absolve the Shehbaz Sharif government from the reality that it has been thoroughly incapacitated by the military establishment. The military has adroitly leveraged a triad of crises—Imran Khan’s surging popularity, a deteriorating security architecture, and the civilian administration's failure to steer the economy—to instil existential fear within traditional political entities like the PML-N and PPP.
Convinced that their survival depended entirely on capitulation, these parties entered a Faustian bargain to secure power, only to find themselves completely toothless. By transforming elected representatives into obedient functionaries, the military has systematically insulated itself against any semblance of accountability.
Consequently, Pakistan's current political landscape and strategic policies reflect the institutional mindset of the GHQ, entirely divorced from the will of civilian leaders or the aspirations of the common people.