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Mixed signals

By Editorial Board
August 05, 2026
This undated image shows a woman casting vote in ballot box. — AFP/File
This undated image shows a woman casting vote in ballot box. — AFP/File

The acrimonious campaign that marked the Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK) elections has laid bare the contradictions at the heart of Pakistan’s ruling coalition, with the PML-N and PPP attacking each other in a manner unseen since they came together to form the federal government after the February 2024 general elections. Supporters of both parties argue that Gilgit-Baltistan and AJK are unique political arenas where the coalition partners naturally become electoral opponents. There is truth to that. Yet the intensity and tone of the exchanges witnessed during the AJK campaign cannot simply be explained away as the rough and tumble of local politics. Even the GB elections, where the parties also competed against one another, did not witness the kind of deeply personal and often juvenile attacks that have dominated the AJK contest. By accusing each other of corruption and invoking allegations surrounding Form 47 and electoral manipulation, both parties have armed their political opponents with ready-made campaign material. These are not criticisms coming from the opposition; they are charges being levelled by members of the same governing arrangement.

What makes the spectacle even more damaging is its predictability. Once the AJK elections are over, both parties will resume their partnership at the centre as though nothing happened. The transition from bitter adversaries on the campaign trail to cooperative allies in Islamabad risks deepening public cynicism by reinforcing the perception that political hostilities are merely electoral theatre rather than genuine ideological or policy disagreements. The PPP, in particular, faces a difficult balancing act. While it has sought to present itself as distinct from the federal government by remaining outside the cabinet, this argument has become increasingly difficult to sustain. The party occupies some of the country’s most significant constitutional offices, including the presidency, the chairmanship of the Senate and two governorships. It has also stood alongside the PML-N on key legislative and constitutional matters. Attempting to portray itself as detached from decisions taken by the coalition government is unlikely to convince an electorate that sees it as an indispensable pillar of the current political arrangement. The contrast with the parties’ campaign strategies in Gilgit-Baltistan is striking. There, the PML-N largely highlighted its record on infrastructure and governance while the PPP emphasised political rights and legislative reforms. The parties remained competitors, but the debate was centred on governance rather than mutual delegitimisation. The AJK campaign abandoned that approach in favour of personal attacks that may deliver short-term political gains but inflict lasting damage on both parties’ collective credibility.

This broader communication failure reflects a deeper problem. The government appears to believe that political challenges can be managed primarily through controlling narratives rather than addressing underlying issues. Whether it is responding to unfavourable international media coverage by restricting access, issuing notices to journalists under the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act (Peca) or treating criticism as a public relations problem, the emphasis has too often been on managing perceptions instead of improving governance. The coalition has also squandered opportunities to engage in more meaningful debates. Instead of using moments such as Interior Minister Mohsin Naqvi’s remarks on governance to initiate serious discussions on institutional reform, the political discourse has frequently descended into point-scoring and image management. For now, the coalition may be spared the full political consequences of these missteps. The PTI’s constrained political space and the broader absence of a coherent opposition strategy have limited the immediate electoral costs for the government. Under different circumstances, such persistent contradictions and self-inflicted damage might have posed a far greater challenge to the coalition’s survival. But relying on a fragmented opposition is hardly a substitute for political coherence. If the PML-N and the PPP believe they have no alternative but to remain partners in government, then they must also recognise the responsibility that partnership entails. They can choose to distinguish themselves before the next general election, when voters expect competing visions for the country’s future. In the middle of a governing term, however, relentlessly undermining one another without offering much by way of solutions seems futile.