DND Report
On Saturday, the angry PTI leaders and workers blocked the Peshawar-Islamabad Motorway at Swabi’s Anbar Interchange, Khairabad Bridge connecting Punjab, Dera Ismail Khan-Bhakkar Road, Lakki Marwat-Mianwali Road and Hazara Motorway at Abbottabad-Havelian Interchange.
PTI’s political history reveals a consistent pattern: when out of power, it chooses paralysis over participation; when challenged, it opts for confrontation over compromise. Its long rule in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP) provided ample opportunity to demonstrate governance excellence, yet the province has repeatedly been used as a political battering ram against Islamabad.
Khyber Pakhtunkhwa’s strategic location and PTI’s prolonged hold over the province have made it the party’s most reliable base for agitation. From KP, caravans of protesters have repeatedly marched toward Islamabad, disrupting highways, interprovincial trade, and supply chains. Several of these mobilizations resulted in clashes with law enforcement, damage to public and private property, and prolonged suspension of traffic in major urban centers.
Rather than prioritizing governance indicators such as health, education, employment, and security in KP, the province has frequently been politically instrumentalized. Critics argue that administrative machinery has, at times, been indirectly used to facilitate protests, while provincial stability has been compromised to pursue federal-level political objectives.
This approach has also carried serious security implications. KP, already struggling with terrorism and militancy, can ill afford prolonged political instability. Yet PTI’s protest-driven strategy has often diverted attention away from counterterrorism efforts, development initiatives, and institutional capacity-building.
Some voices are now celebrating the shutdown of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, even though these same voices previously argued that suspending trade with Afghanistan was unjust and harmful. This contradiction exposes a troubling lack of principle. If cutting trade was considered wrong, how can paralyzing an entire province suddenly be justified as wise or necessary?
The reality is both simple and uncomfortable: the burden of this shutdown will fall almost entirely on the people of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Daily wage workers, small traders, students, patients, and transport workers will be the first to suffer. Economic activity will slow, essential services will be disrupted, and thousands of families will face unnecessary financial stress, while those enjoying political comfort will feel little to no impact.
There is also a stark imbalance that must be acknowledged. People from KP regularly travel to hospitals in Punjab for medical treatment; the flow is overwhelmingly one-sided. Very few people from Punjab travel to KP for healthcare. Closing highways and blocking key routes such as the Torkham corridor only deepens this inequality, further isolating KP from already limited opportunities and services.
Moreover, blocking routes makes little strategic sense. Trade with Afghanistan is already largely restricted. Shutting down the Torkham highway does not punish Kabul; it punishes Peshawar, Landi Kotal, and ordinary Pakistani citizens who depend on movement, trade, and connectivity for survival.
This is not resistance; it is self-inflicted damage disguised as politics. Real leadership alleviates suffering—it does not manufacture hardship for slogans and political optics.
Since its emergence as a major political force, Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) has largely defined its political identity not through sustained governance reforms or institutional strengthening, but through agitation, protests, and confrontation with the state. Over the years, PTI’s politics has evolved into a predictable cycle of road blockades, trade disruptions, suspension of daily life, and direct clashes with state institutions—often justified in the name of accountability, justice, or “real freedom,” but frequently resulting in economic loss and social instability.
A defining feature of this protest-centric approach has been PTI’s consistent use of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa as a political launching pad. Having ruled the province for nearly twelve consecutive years, PTI has repeatedly leveraged its control over provincial resources, administrative structures, and political workers to mobilize protests aimed at Islamabad. Instead of presenting KP as a model of governance, economic growth, and social development, the province has often been reduced to a staging ground for political pressure tactics against the federal government.
PTI’s reliance on street agitation is not new. As early as 2014, the party staged a prolonged sit-in (dharna) in Islamabad, effectively paralyzing the federal capital for over four months. Roads were blocked, businesses suffered, and diplomatic activity was disrupted. The protest culminated in the storming of Pakistan Television (PTV) headquarters—an unprecedented attack on a state institution that set a dangerous precedent.
In 2016, PTI again attempted to “lock down” Islamabad, openly calling for the suspension of the capital’s functioning. Schools were closed, transport was halted, and economic activity slowed amid fears of violence. Similar tactics were repeated in 2017 and 2019, when PTI supporters blocked highways, shut down cities, and disrupted trade routes in the name of political pressure.
Even after forming the federal government in 2018, PTI did not abandon its confrontational style. Governance failures were often masked by blaming institutions, opposition parties, or alleged conspiracies. When PTI lost power in 2022, it returned aggressively to the streets, organizing long marches, road blockades, and sit-ins—once again largely mobilized from KP.
Another hallmark of PTI’s politics has been its persistent contradiction in dealing with state institutions. From election bodies and courts to the police and military, PTI’s narrative has frequently oscillated between praise and vilification, depending on political convenience. Institutions are embraced when decisions align with party interests and dismissed as “biased” or “compromised” when they do not.
This selective respect for institutions undermines democratic norms and erodes public trust. Politics rooted in perpetual confrontation leaves little room for dialogue, compromise, or constitutional processes—the very foundations of a functioning democracy.
Perhaps the most damaging aspect of PTI’s political trajectory is its excessive centralization around its founding chairman, Imran Khan. Over time, the party has failed to evolve into an institutionalized political organization with second-tier leadership, policy continuity, or internal democracy. Instead, decision-making, strategy, and mobilization have revolved almost entirely around a single personality.
Since Imran Khan’s imprisonment in corruption-related cases, PTI’s political focus has narrowed even further. The party’s rhetoric, protests, and brinkmanship increasingly appear aimed at securing personal relief rather than advancing national stability. Pakistan’s economy, governance, and international standing have repeatedly been placed at risk through calls for shutdowns, civil disobedience, and institutional paralysis.
A responsible political party distinguishes between personal legal battles and the national interest. PTI, however, has struggled to draw this line, often holding the country hostage to the fate of one individual.
The consequences of PTI’s politics of disruption are tangible and far-reaching: loss of investor confidence, damage to infrastructure, missed economic opportunities, and deepened political polarization. Road blockades choke trade. Protests disrupt the livelihoods of daily wage earners. Damage to public and private property further burdens an already fragile economy. Most critically, repeated assaults on institutional authority weaken the state itself.
Pakistan’s democratic future depends on political maturity, respect for constitutional boundaries, and the prioritization of public welfare over personal or party-centric agendas. Protest is a democratic right—but when it becomes a permanent substitute for policy, governance, and dialogue, it turns into a liability rather than a strength.
For Pakistan to move forward, politics must evolve beyond street power, road blockades, and personality cults. National interest cannot remain subordinate to individual legal battles. Democracy demands responsibility—and the time has come for all political forces, including PTI, to reflect on the damage caused by a politics that thrives on disruption rather than development.
