Since the military cannot remain in an unending war with India, the future strength of Pakistan’s armed forces may depend less on military might and more on public trust; the trust that should be earned, not enforced.
Just two years separate Pakistan’s violent reckoning with its military on May 9, 2023, and the overjoyed celebrations that erupted on May 11, 2025, in support of that very institution. The contrast is not only striking, it is revealing.
The violent unrest triggered by Imran Khan’s arrest in 2023, during which military installations were directly attacked by enraged Khan’s supporters, exposed deep cracks in the military’s long-standing grip on Pakistan’s political narrative. But this month, the military was at the heart of jubilant processions across the country, hailed for its role in confronting India during a rare and dangerous military escalation.
What changed?
At first glance, the answer seems simple: war.
Nothing stokes nationalism like the threat of an external enemy. Pakistan’s latest military conflict with India, though brief, was intense. Missiles, drones and artillery fire between two nuclear-armed neighbours over four days left scores dead and an entire region on edge. In the aftermath, the streets of Pakistan lit up not with rage but with pride. Survey data backs this shift: 96 percent of respondents believed Pakistan had won, and 92 percent said their opinion of the military had improved.
This “rally around the flag” effect is neither new nor unique to Pakistan. Yet the sudden transformation from a “Black Day” of anti-military outrage in 2023 to a “Day of Righteous Battle” in 2025 suggests not just a nationalistic impulse, but a volatility in public sentiment that Pakistan’s leadership, both military and civilian, should approach with caution.
The military, long entrenched in Pakistan’s governance and societal structure, has not only defended physical borders but has shaped ideological boundaries. Its legacy includes four coups, sustained political interference and allegations of domestic repression, particularly following the crackdown on Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI), Imran Khan’s political party, after May 2023. This dominance, once upheld by reverence, increasingly came to be enforced through fear.
Indeed, the crackdown following the PTI protests marked a watershed. Hundreds arrested, some of whom were tried in military courts. The military’s image took a serious hit, worsened by the rise of social media platforms where controlling narratives is increasingly difficult. What was once silent submission gave way to vocal dissent.
Yet in times of external threat, internal dissent tends to blur. The conflict with India provided a moment of redemption for the military; a chance to reassert itself not through coercion, but through perceived heroism. Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif’s declaration of a “golden chapter” in military history and the naming of the operation as “Bunyan Um Marsoos” sought to immortalize this moment. Even Imran Khan, imprisoned and isolated, acknowledged the military’s need for public support.
But the enduring question is not whether the military earned accolades in this particular moment. It is whether the applause of May 2025 will echo into lasting legitimacy, or whether it is a fleeting reprieve in a longer trajectory of civil-military tension.
For now, the sentiment seems concentrated in Punjab and other urban centers; it is less clear whether regions like Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan, long plagued by military overreach, feel the same patriotic fervor.
Critics warn that wartime approval is almost always temporary. The real test lies ahead: whether Pakistanis can separate the military’s performance in defending borders from its role in manipulating domestic politics. Can the institution remain a national defender without becoming a political kingmaker?
The military, too, must take stock. The celebration of martial success should not obscure the deeper needs of the state: economic stability, democratic resilience and social justice. Since the military cannot remain in an unending war with India, the future strength of Pakistan’s armed forces may depend less on military might and more on public trust; the trust that should be earned, not enforced.
In the end, reverence can return as quickly as it vanished. But if the past two years have shown anything, it is that Pakistan’s relationship with its military remains a fragile pact that is fueled by fear, redeemed by force and always at the mercy of shifting winds.
Bahauddin Foizee is an analyst & columnist focusing on the assessment of threat/risk associated with business, economy and investment as well as legal, security, political and geopolitical threat/risk. His articles on these areas as well as on social, environmental, financial and military affairs in the Asia-Pacific/Indo-Pacific and Middle East regions have been widely published.
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