The mere suggestion that the Government of Pakistan is considering increasing the voting age from 18 to 25 is so fundamentally anti-democratic that it is difficult to treat it as a serious policy proposal.
Yet statements attributed to Adviser to the Prime Minister Rana Sanaullah suggest the government is at least “discussing” such a move. Defending the potential legislation, Sanaullah has sought to link the voting age with the minimum age for Parliamentarians. If the government has an actual issue with the age a Pakistani can enter Parliament, it should consider reducing it. What it should not do is adopt a naked attempt at electoral engineering in a vain hope for incumbency.
At 18, a Pakistani citizen is legally recognized as an adult, can marry, sign contracts, work full-time, join government service, and even enlist in the armed forces to defend the country. A state that is perfectly willing to hand young adults rifles, responsibilities, taxes, and lifelong obligations cannot suddenly deem them too immature to stamp a ballot paper. The contradiction is absurd. Adulthood cannot be selectively recognized only when it suits the state’s interests.
Let us also not pretend the public does not understand the political calculation behind this “discussion.” The widespread perception is that the ruling Pakistan Muslim League (Nawaz) believes younger voters overwhelmingly support the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf and seeks to dilute that influence before future polls. Whether or not polling data fully supports this assumption is beside the point; the perception itself is deeply damaging. It reinforces the growing belief that electoral rules are being shaped not around democratic fairness, but around preserving incumbency.
The right to representation is not a privilege handed out conditionally; it is a constitutional principle. Denying millions of adults the right to vote because their choices may discomfort those in power strikes at the very foundation of representative government.
Ironically, the government is likely misdiagnosing the source of its political troubles. Youth dissatisfaction—and it is by no means limited to the youth—is not the product of social media manipulation or political branding. It stems from lived economic reality. Young Pakistanis face crushing inflation, stagnant wages, soaring unemployment, and shrinking prospects. Households are buckling under unbearable electricity and gas tariffs. Petrol prices continue to climb thanks to taxes and levies the government has started utilizing as a source of revenue. Purchasing power has eroded dramatically while the government repeatedly congratulates itself over diplomatic maneuvers abroad.
Diplomatic wins, however, do not fill empty kitchens, reduce utility bills, or restore economic dignity to struggling families.
It would also be disingenuous to fail to acknowledge that this controversy may serve another purpose: distraction. While public attention remains fixated on the outrageous notion of disenfranchising young adults, far more consequential discussions reportedly surrounding the proposed 28th Amendment risk escaping scrutiny. Reports of plans to reduce the provincial share under the NFC Award, redraw provincial boundaries, create new provinces, and introduce sweeping alterations to the office of the presidency would fundamentally reshape Pakistan’s constitutional structure. These are matters requiring national debate and maximum transparency, not quiet negotiations behind closed doors.
Ultimately, this entire episode highlights a government increasingly disconnected from the public. Instead of focusing on governance, economic relief, institutional reform, and democratic confidence-building, the leadership appears preoccupied solely with preserving political control.
A confident government seeks votes. An insecure one seeks ways to limit who can cast them.