It is a very ordinary official photograph that tells the full story. Pakistan Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif stands alongside Azerbaijan’s President Ilham Aliyev during an official visit to the landlocked Caucasian country. But there is a third person in the photo: Pakistan’s newly minted Field Marshal Asim Munir.
The message is very clear – Munir is not letting Sharif out of his sight.
It was much the same story in Washington. First, Munir had an exclusive meeting with President Donald Trump – the first Pakistani military leader to get a one-on-one meeting with a US president. But Munir also made sure he tagged along when Sharif made his own trip to the White House a few months later.
Now, with Pakistan’s 27th constitutional amendment, the message is coming across loud and clear: the army is muscling its way to centrestage and pushing the civil government to the margins.
Most crucially, the 27th amendment, approved by the Pakistan Senate on Monday afternoon, decrees that the army chief, now to be known as the Chief of Defence Forces (CDF), will from henceforth also be the overall commander of the air force and navy.
That provision is thought to be sparking deep resentment, particularly in the air force, which believes it played a key role both in the 2019 India-Pakistan clash and the Four-Day War in May.
Commented Dawn newspaper: “The plan collides with entrenched institutional cultures, long-standing inter-service rivalries, and the delicate balance between civilian oversight and military autonomy that has, at least in theory, defined Pakistan’s power structure since 1973.”
The air force’s frustration with the latest events runs deep. Its officers argue that modern warfare is shifting decisively towards drone, missile and air-based operations, making air power far more central than conventional land forces. The Pakistan Air Force has long prided itself on being a professional and relatively apolitical service – in sharp contrast to the army, which has repeatedly intervened in governance and politics.
The 27th constitutional amendment also contains an even more extraordinary clause: it originally proposed granting lifetime immunity from prosecution to both the army chief and the sitting prime minister – yes, even after they have left office.
The provision provoked an immediate backlash, and Sharif appeared to realise belatedly that no prime minister could credibly claim such immunity. He hastily distanced himself, saying the provision had not been in the original draft of the bill and vetoed it just before it was about to be passed.
“I have learnt that some senators belonging to our party have submitted an amendment regarding immunity for the prime minister,” he insisted, adding: “The proposal was not part of the cabinet-approved draft. I have instructed that it be withdrawn immediately.”
Whether Sharif truly knew nothing about the provision before returning from Azerbaijan is another matter – one that stretches credibility.
The army, which is the muscular force pushing for the 27th amendment, is not content merely to take control of the three wings of the military. Under the 27th Amendment, a new Federal Constitutional Court (FCC) will come into being. The FCC is almost certainly being created to cut into the Supreme Court of Pakistan’s power, and it is not even clear which one will have the last word on major legal issues.
And that is not all: even at the high-court level, any case with the slightest constitutional implications must go before a special bench. The executive will also take away a large chunk of the judiciary’s powers via a newly formed body, the Judicial Commission of Pakistan, which will decide who hears constitutional cases. The executive will hold a majority in the JCP.
In a blistering editorial, Dawn starkly described the changes to the judicial system: “This is not an essay on the impact of the 27th constitutional amendment bill on the judiciary. It is not even a comment. It is an obituary of the Supreme Court and the high courts that we once knew.”
That brings us to the obvious question: why does the Pakistan Army, which already controls most levers of state power, feel the need to accumulate even more and to control every line of the new narrative that is being written?
Some analysts suggest that Munir’s aggressive centralisation signals not confidence but insecurity – a fear of dissent within the ranks or resistance from other services. There are rumblings of discontent within both the air force and navy, and resentment among senior officers affected by his self-granted extension of tenure.
There might be the possibility that the army chief is not as invincible as he seems at first glance. Munir’s moves to seize control of everything are ascribed by some as an indication of his possible inability to control attacks that may come at him from factions both in the armed forces and amongst civilians.
Above all else, there are groups within the air force and navy which are deeply against the 27th amendment changes.
The Islamabad Post put out a tweet bluntly ripping into the general: “The ongoing debate over the proposed position of chief of defence forces is no longer a matter of simple administrative reform but has evolved into a contest of influence, power and strategic anxiety.”
The tweet, perhaps unsurprisingly, did not make it to the main paper.
General Yasin Malik, a former chief of Pakistan’s intelligence and defence minister, was also scathing about the changes: “By placing an army officer as the chief of defence forces with authority over the army and navy, the proposed system invites institutional imbalance and potential disaster.”
Not unexpectedly, forces aligned with Imran Khan’s Tehreek-e-Insaaf have denounced the entire 27th amendment as an attempt to centralise all authority in the hands of the army chief.
Pakistan has always alternated between civilian governments that are forced out of power by the armed forces. The current 17-year stretch of democracy is the longest the country has ever had. But the 27th amendment may well mark the end of that fragile experiment. It could be time, once again, to write the obituary of Pakistan’s democracy.