OPINION | How Pakistan’s new Constitutional amendment pushes the country to the brink

chief General Asim Munir | AFP

When Pakistan’s Parliament pushed through the 27th Constitutional Amendment in mid-November, the move was met with protests, legal challenges, and a wave of anxiety across the political spectrum. Yet, for many observers of Pakistan’s turbulent civil-military history, there was little surprise. The joke that “in Pakistan, the Army has a country” has always reflected a deeper truth: power in Pakistan has rarely flowed through democratic channels. The new amendment merely codifies what the military has long exercised informally.

 

But what makes this moment different is the scale and permanence of the change. The amendment does not simply tilt the balance in favour of the Army. It restructures the state around it. And at the centre of this transformation stands one man: Field Marshal Asim Munir, the Army Chief whose authority now eclipses all other institutions in Pakistan.

 

A Constitutional Coup in all but name

 

On 13 November 2025, Pakistan passed the 27th Amendment to the Practice and Procedure Act—a sweeping package of reforms that critics say amounts to a constitutional coup. The amendment abolishes the position of Chairman Joint Chiefs of Staff Committee and appoints the Army Chief as ‘Chief of Defence Forces’, extending his command over the Navy and Air Force.

 

It also creates a new Federal Constitutional Court, which will sit above the existing Supreme Court and is empowered to review or override judicial decisions. The amendment grants lifetime immunity to the President and the Army Chief, restructures judicial appointments, and revisits federal-provincial power-sharing arrangements.

 

The response has been swift. Political parties called it an assault on democracy. Civil society groups and lawyers marched through Islamabad and Lahore. And in a stunning rebuke, two Supreme Court judges resigned, warning that the amendment “undermines the Constitution and compromises the freedom of the judiciary.”

 

The government insists the reform is meant to bring “institutional clarity.” Few believe that. For most Pakistanis, this is a familiar script: power shifts away from elected representatives and back into Rawalpindi’s General Headquarters.

A military chief in the mould of Zia and Musharraf—but with a legal mandate

 

What sets Asim Munir apart from the long line of generals who dominated Pakistan’s politics since the 1950s is not simply his ambition. It is the method by which he has entrenched power.

 

Ayub Khan seized control in 1958. Zia ul Haq overthrew a government in 1977. Pervez Musharraf rolled in with tanks in 1999. Munir, by contrast, has redesigned the Constitution to institutionalise military supremacy—without staging a coup.

 

For analysts, the manoeuvre reflects a lesson the Army learned over the last two decades. Overt coups are costly. They trigger international sanctions, shrink foreign investment, and generate internal resistance. Legal engineering, however, offers the same outcome with far fewer risks.

 

The amendment ensures that Munir retains lifetime relevance, influence, and immunity—effectively placing him beyond the reach of law. And because the changes are now embedded in the Constitution, unwinding them will be far more difficult than reversing a military declaration.

 

Who is Asim Munir? The rise of “Mullah Munir”

 

Understanding Pakistan’s political trajectory today requires understanding the man now steering it.

 

Asim Munir is the first Army Chief who previously served as Director-General of the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI)—a role that gave him intimate knowledge of Pakistan’s political elite, rival factions, and Islamist networks. His abrupt removal from ISI in 2019 by then Prime Minister Imran Khan, after just eight months, is believed to have shaped his later alliances and hardened his desire to consolidate power.

 

Munir is also a Hafiz, having memorised the Quran during a stint in Saudi Arabia. His speeches often invoke religious imagery, national identity, and jihad, earning him the nickname “Mullah Munir” within political and diplomatic circles. Under his leadership, the Pakistan Army has revived a more overt ideological posture reminiscent of the Zia era, with religion increasingly woven into military doctrine.

 

For Munir, national security is not only a strategic framework but a moral and ideological mission. He positions himself as a reformer determined to “cleanse politics,” restore discipline, and defend Pakistan’s ideological borders. Critics say this worldview makes him more likely than his recent predecessors to take risks—internally and externally.

 

A leader with a harder line on India and a broader vision abroad

 

Munir’s foreign policy instincts mark a shift from the pragmatic caution shown by Generals Kayani and Bajwa. He has openly threatened retaliation against India on issues ranging from water disputes to Kashmir, even suggesting missile strikes on Indian dams. His rhetoric appeals to Pakistan’s nationalist base but raises concerns that he may indulge in brinkmanship during moments of crisis.

 

At the same time, Munir is pursuing a diversified international strategy:

 

* Deepening ties with Saudi Arabia and Turkey, including a Saudi–Pakistan Defence Pact that binds the two nations in unprecedented military co-operation.

* Maintaining Pakistan’s “iron brother” relationship with China, even as he explores openings with the United States.

* Supporting a crypto-investment deal with a US-based firm, signalling a willingness to court American capital despite anti-American sentiment in parts of Pakistan’s military.

 

His willingness to engage both Washington and Beijing is part of a broader attempt to reposition Pakistan as a strategic hinge between rival powers—a risky ambition for a country facing severe economic collapse.

 

The internal fallout: A militarised state and a silenced Judiciary

 

The most immediate impact of the amendment is domestic. By elevating the Army Chief to Head of all defence forces and placing a constitutional court above the Supreme Court, Pakistan has effectively silenced the two institutions most capable of challenging military influence: the judiciary and elected government.

 

The elected leadership appears subdued, even deferential. Many political figures fear pushing back too hard; others hope co-operation will preserve their own interests. But the cost is steep. Civilian institutions—already weakened—are now structurally dependent on the military.

 

The judiciary, once Pakistan’s last refuge for political dissent, now faces a parallel system capable of overruling it. The resignations of Supreme Court judges are a warning sign: a judiciary under pressure is a judiciary unable to check executive–military excess.

 

Provincial leaders from Sindh, Balochistan, and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa fear the rollback of autonomy. These regions have long histories of tension with the central government, often fuelled by perceptions of Punjabi-dominated military interference. Revisions to the federal structure could inflame those grievances once again.

 

The economic risk: The Army cannot solve what it does not understand

 

Pakistan’s economic crisis is severe: soaring inflation, dwindling foreign reserves, stalled foreign investment, and dependence on emergency IMF bailouts. Yet the Army’s expanding role in economic governance has rarely produced stability.

 

From Ayub’s crony capitalism to Zia’s Islamised economy to Musharraf’s debt-fuelled bubble, military rule has consistently delivered short-term optics at the cost of long-term structural damage.

 

Munir’s strategy appears no different. He supports new investment zones with Saudi and Chinese backing, expanded military oversight of key industries, and high-visibility infrastructure projects.

 

But what Pakistan urgently needs is fiscal discipline, tax reform, regulatory stability, and civilian oversight—none of which are strengths of military administrations. Analysts warn that the amendment could accelerate economic decline by concentrating authority in an institution with limited economic expertise and little accountability.

 

The external fallout: A region on edge

 

Pakistan’s neighbours have been watching the constitutional changes with concern. The last time an army chief accumulated such power—during Zia’s and Musharraf’s eras—Pakistan escalated proxy warfare, deepened its support for militant groups, and engaged in confrontational behaviour with India.

 

India: Higher risk of conflict and terror activity

 

India has long viewed Pakistan's military dominance in governance as a predictor of instability. Munir’s ideological posture and willingness to use threat rhetoric signal a harder line than that of his predecessor. Indian security officials fear a potential rise in terrorist infiltration attempts, support for anti-India militant groups like LeT and JeM, border escalations along the LoC, and nuclear sabre-rattling during crises. The concern is not simply that Munir may choose confrontation, but that his domestic political incentives may push him toward it.

 

Afghanistan: A fragile western front

 

Pakistan’s relationship with the Taliban government in Kabul has deteriorated sharply in recent years. The Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) continues to target Pakistani security forces, and Afghan officials accuse Pakistan of meddling in their internal affairs. With Munir’s expanded military authority, cross-border strikes or escalations cannot be ruled out—potentially creating a two-front security crisis.

 

The Nuclear Shadow

 

Pakistan’s nuclear development continues, despite economic collapse. Munir’s statements suggest he may be more willing than previous chiefs to resort to nuclear signalling. This raises fears of “managed escalation”—a strategy combining conventional pressure, proxy attacks, and nuclear threats to deter retaliation. For the region, this is a dangerous mix.

 

What comes next?

 

The 27th Constitutional Amendment marks a watershed moment in Pakistan’s political evolution. Three broad trends can be expected in the coming years:

 

1. Civil–military power will not rebalance in the near future

 

With constitutional endorsement of the Army Chief’s supremacy, Pakistan’s civilian institutions are more marginalised than at any point since Zia’s era. Reasserting control will take a generational shift or a major national crisis.

 

2. Pakistan’s security posture will become more aggressive

 

Munir’s ideology, institutional power, and regional alignments suggest a willingness to engage in riskier behaviour—externally through military signalling and internally through coercive governance.

 

3. Economic decline will accelerate unless civilian expertise re-emerges

 

Militaries are built to fight wars, not run economies. Unless Pakistan restores technocratic civilian leadership, economic instability will persist, which can result in the creation of cross-border security situations to divert attention.

Conclusion

 

Pakistan has experienced coups, constitutional crises, and military takeovers before. But the 27th Constitutional Amendment represents something deeper: the legal reinvention of Pakistan as a military-led state.

 

Field Marshal Asim “Mullah” Munir now wields more entrenched power than any army chief in decades—power insulated from judicial review, political challenge, or institutional restraints. For Pakistan, a country already on the brink of financial collapse and geopolitical volatility, this consolidation could have profound consequences.

 

History suggests where this leads: strategic miscalculations, internal repression, external adventurism, and the erosion of democratic life. For Pakistan and its neighbours, the stakes could not be higher. The country is standing at the edge of an abyss—and this time, the descent may be legally guaranteed.

(The writer was Vice Chief of the Indian Army)

 

(The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not purport to reflect the opinions or views of THE WEEK)​

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