Another familiar chapter has unfolded in Pakistan’s long and tangled political story. On July 31, 2025, an Anti-Terrorism Court sentenced 108 members and supporters of the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) to 10 years in prison in connection with the events of May 9, 2023, while eight were acquitted. In another recent verdict, 28 out of 32 accused were also handed convictions under similar charges.
The sentences were handed down in cases relating to attacks on military and state installations following the arrest of Imran Khan last year. Those convicted include senior party leaders such as Dr. Yasmin Rashid, Omar Ayub, Omer Cheema, and Zartaj Gul. The charges—incitement, arson, and terrorism-related offenses—fall under Pakistan’s criminal and anti-terrorism laws. Under Article 63(1)(g) of the Constitution, these convictions, unless overturned, result in disqualification from holding public office.
While the legal consequences are immediate and grave, they are not without precedent. Pakistan’s political history is littered with similar episodes. Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif both experienced arrest, exile, and political disqualification—only to return, contest elections, and hold office again. This cycle of downfall and return has become almost structural, giving rise to what some might call a political rite of passage in Pakistan.
In this context, the May 9 verdicts should not be viewed in isolation. They are not merely about punishing acts of violence, but also about how the state chooses to assert its authority, and how political parties choose to resist—or reform. For the PTI, the road ahead hinges less on street mobilization and more on legal navigation. The temptation to return to confrontation is strong, but history shows that the more lasting victories in Pakistan’s political arena have been earned in courtrooms, not on container tops.
To PTI supporters and leadership alike: this is not the end of the road. Political relevance in Pakistan is not determined solely by conviction or disqualification, but by strategy, perseverance, and a readiness to work within the constitutional framework. If the party hopes to restore its democratic standing, the path lies in appeals, not agitation.
Yet one aspect of this entire episode remains disturbingly under-discussed: the fate of ordinary PTI workers. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of foot soldiers have been convicted alongside their leaders, but they receive little attention in party statements or media narratives. They face the same sentences, the same stigma, and often with less legal support. In the political theatre of Pakistan, the leaders may return; the workers often do not. Their silence is the loudest part of this story.
What happens next will largely depend on how PTI chooses to respond to these developments. Will it pursue legal remedies and political reconciliation? Or revert to a politics of confrontation and victimhood? The answer will shape not only its own trajectory but that of Pakistan’s democratic evolution. In moments like this, the nation is tested not just by verdicts, but by responses. Let the courts function. Let the democratic process take its course. Let Pakistan remain the cause.
