The Constitutional Bench of the Supreme Court has accepted a review of the apex court’s July 2024 ruling, effectively denying the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) any share in reserved seats for minorities and women and strengthening the position of the ruling coalition in Parliament.
The short order announced by Justice Aminud Din Khan was in many ways predictable, especially after the court’s previous ruling remained unimplemented for nearly a year. This, however, does not dampen the perceived miscarriage of justice, marking yet another sorry chapter in Pakistan’s judicial history. A major political force has once more been sidelined after falling afoul of the country’s establishment—and a series of missteps that continue to haunt it long after the Feb. 8, 2024 elections.
Since Imran Khan’s ouster as prime minister in 2022, the PTI’s strategy has appeared reactive and shortsighted, vacillating between defiance and disengagement. In 2023, the party dissolved the Punjab and Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa assemblies, relinquishing its control over two key regions. As elections neared after a lengthy delay, they opted to boycott key processes, issued ambiguous directives to their candidates, and failed to navigate the post-election legal terrain with the clarity and cohesion required of a party seeking national leadership. Instead of pursuing a unified legal front, the PTI allowed confusion to fester, initially opting to join the Majlis Wahdat-e-Muslimeen before jumping ship to the Sunni Ittehad Council. Ironically, the former has a presence in Parliament, making it eligible for reserved seats—a mistake admitted by Secretary General Salman Akram Raja during the Supreme Court proceedings.
Not helping the PTI during the proceedings was its lawyers’ tense exchanges with judges. Rather than adopting a posture of institutional respect and legal rigor, the legal team often resorted to provocations and thinly veiled attacks on the judiciary. Throughout the livestreamed proceedings, the party’s lawyers appeared less interested in persuading the bench than in playing to a gallery outside the courtroom. This confrontational tone, red meat for the party’s support base, undermined the party’s credibility before the very judges it was trying to convince.
The spectacle of lawyers insinuating bias and openly needling judges only reinforced an already strained relationship between the party and the judiciary—the same institution it had once lauded when verdicts favored it. Today, the tables have turned, and with them, PTI’s rhetoric. Victimhood narratives sell well with the public; they are far less affective In legal forums.
In the end, the denial of reserved seats is not merely a setback for the PTI, but also a betrayal of its supporters and their right to representation. Rather than learning from past mistakes, the party doubled down on them. But while the PTI is down, it’s not entirely out just yet. The party must now recognize that institutions cannot be browbeaten into submission and work to engage with them strategically and respectfully if it hopes to once again regain its political standing.