THERE is something deeply exhausting about watching a country remain permanently trapped in political conflict. Governments change, oppositions protest, leaders negotiate and then walk away, while the same arguments return in slightly different forms. Every disagreement becomes a confrontation, every compromise is treated with suspicion and every political victory is celebrated as if the country itself has won. But beyond the speeches, television debates and rallies is another Pakistan, one that is simply trying to work, study, earn, raise children and get through the month.
The latest failure of political talks is another sign of a deeper problem. Hours of negotiations could not bridge differences over terrorism, the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa government’s role in counterterrorism and the proposed long march. The government says the KP side backed away from commitments on counterterrorism, while the opposition has maintained its own objections and demands. The result is familiar. Another opportunity for dialogue has closed and confrontation has returned.
Yet democracy is not the problem. People value it because it gives them a voice in choosing their rulers and a peaceful way to change them. Governments can be replaced through elections, oppositions can challenge those in power and citizens can hold leaders accountable. Democracy does not eliminate disagreement. It gives disagreement a peaceful way out. Pakistanis have not necessarily lost faith in democracy. Institute for Public Opinion Research Islamabad (IPOR)recent survey found that 76% considered democracy very important for Pakistan’s stability and development, while 65% saw it as the best system for the country’s future. Yet 54% were dissatisfied with the current democratic system. The message is clear that people may believe in democracy while losing patience with the way it is practised.
In established democracies, governments lose elections and leave, oppositions challenge them and parliament fights without bringing the country to a halt. Political rivals compete fiercely, but institutions continue to function. Democracy is not a permanent performance by politicians. It is the means through which people choose their government, change it peacefully and hold it accountable.
Pakistan has struggled to keep political competition within democratic boundaries. Political parties have, at different times, sought support from forces beyond the electoral arena, while powerful institutions and informal networks have continued to shape political outcomes. This has created a recurring cycle in which yesterday’s beneficiary can become today’s critic when the same system turns against them. Democratic principles are often defended most strongly when political circumstances make them useful.
The deeper cost is that political competition never fully settles through elections. Governments change, alliances shift and loyalties are rearranged, but losing power is rarely accepted simply as part of democratic life. Instead, political actors repeatedly look for other ways to gain influence, weaken opponents or return to power. Over time, this weakens the basic democratic habit of winning through the ballot, losing through the ballot and waiting for the next election to try again.
The cost is not confined to Islamabad. It reaches ordinary homes. Families experience political instability through rising grocery bills, unpaid fees, delayed medical treatment and electricity bills that consume money meant for other needs. Economic insecurity is not always a crisis. Often, it is the quiet shrinking of choices until people begin giving up things they once considered normal. A jobless graduate sees political stability not as an abstract virtue but as a chance to find work. A small trader needs functioning roads, open markets and predictable rules, not another televised political fight. A parent paying university fees cares less about who won the latest political exchange than whether the family income can meet the cost of education. For millions, national politics eventually comes down to one simple question: how to get through the month.
Political rivalry becomes damaging when every disagreement turns into a test of loyalty. Compromise starts looking like surrender, reforms are judged by who proposes them and national policies become hostage to partisan advantage. Politics can remain fiercely competitive without making the country itself pay the price.The private sector feels political uncertainty quickly. Investors worry not only about economic indicators but whether policies will survive the next crisis and businesses can operate normally. Expansion is delayed, hiring slows, families postpone major purchases and young professionals look elsewhere. These quiet decisions rarely make headlines, but together they weaken confidence in the country’s future.
The deeper cost is political fatigue. Repeated confrontation teaches citizens to accept blocked roads, angry speeches, accusations and failed negotiations as normal. Politics becomes a permanent emergency, and the public gradually stops asking whether institutions are working and starts asking only which side is winning. That is where the political theatre becomes most costly. Democracy is meant to give citizens a peaceful way to manage disagreement while they get on with their lives. If negotiators can sit for hours and narrow their differences, the remaining disagreements should become a reason to keep talking, not another excuse for confrontation. Political opponents do not have to agree on everything. They have to remain willing to compete without making the country pay for their rivalry. Pakistan does not need less democracy. It needs democracy to mean more.
People did not ask for this theatre. They asked for a government they could choose, institutions they could trust and a country in which their children could build a future. They do not need another victory speech, another confrontation or another political spectacle. They need a state that works while politicians disagree. The country is not the stage for political theatre. It is the audience that pays for it.
—The writer is PhD in Political Science, and visiting faculty at QAU Islamabad.
