Sep 20, 4:01 PM
Rawalpindi’s Reckoning: Imran Khan and the Mechanics of Military Revenge
Incarcerated in a tiny cell and losing his sight, Pakistan's former prime minister learns the true cost of falling out with the generals.
In Rawalpindi’s Adiala prison, political reality is measured in inches: six feet by eight, to be precise. That is the size of the solitary cell where Imran Khan, once the golden boy of Pakistani politics and international cricket, now sits serving a 14-year corruption sentence.
From London, his sons, Kasim and Sulaiman Khan, describe a slow-motion execution orchestrated not by impartial justice, but by military malice. At the center of their accusation stands General Asim Munir, Pakistan’s chief of defence forces. The bad blood between the two men is no secret; during his tenure as prime minister, Khan unceremoniously demoted Munir. Since Munir assumed the military helm in 2022, the state’s pursuit of Khan has transformed from routine political harassment into an uncompromising campaign of isolation.
According to his family, the 73-year-old former prime minister is being subjected to conditions that amount to psychological and physical destruction. Denied human contact, new reading material, and independent medical care for over six months, Khan has suffered severe medical neglect. A blood clot in his retinal vein has left him with an estimated 85 percent vision loss in his right eye. When Pakistan's Supreme Court ordered private hospital treatment, the authorities responded with bureaucratic defiance: a brief stint in a state facility, a few injections, and a prompt return to isolation.
The government in Islamabad brushes these accounts aside as fake propaganda, insisting that the prisoner enjoys home-cooked food, nuts, bottled water, and exercise equipment. It is a quaint picture of administrative benevolence that sharply contrasts with international assessments. UN rapporteurs have pointed out that such solitary detention violates international law and borders on psychological torture.
This drama highlights the enduring mechanics of power in Pakistan, where the military establishment remains the ultimate referee. Khan himself ascended to the premiership in 2018 with the army's quiet endorsement, only to fall out with his benefactors in 2022. Having faced over a hundred charges ranging from corruption to sedition, Khan now finds himself on the receiving end of the very iron fist he once navigated.
The state's anxiety over its famous prisoner remains palpable. When Khan's sons mentioned their father's plight on British television, the Pakistan Cricket Board—headed by the country's interior minister—issued formal complaints and threatened match disruptions. Yet, despite being denied visas for over nine months, Khan's sons insist they have no intention of entering the family business of Pakistani politics, citing the very dynastic nepotism that has crippled the nation's governance for decades.
As Khan’s party, Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf, prepares for nationwide demonstrations, the supreme court faces yet another test of its authority regarding court orders routinely ignored by the state. In Pakistan, civilian leaders come and go, but the military’s appetite for settling old scores remains remarkably constant.
Written by Christiane Hofreiter christiane.hofreiter@alpineweekly.com
