In the aftermath of Pakistan’s most serious military standoff with India in decades, the country has elevated Army Chief Gen. Asim Munir to the rank of field marshal, the highest military designation in the nation’s armed forces. While such recognition for defending national sovereignty is understandable, it also underscores a deeper problem Pakistan has yet to confront: the unchecked dominance of the military over civilian leadership.
Munir, now only the second field marshal in Pakistan’s history after Gen. Ayub Khan, was promoted days after the May 10 U.S.-brokered ceasefire ended a wave of missile and drone strikes between Pakistan and India. The civilian government, led by Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif, praised Munir’s “exemplary courage” and decisive leadership during the conflict. Yet in doing so, Sharif has further entrenched a troubling legacy where civilian leaders, rather than asserting authority over the military, appear to seek its favor for political survival.
Pakistan should take pride in its armed forces’ ability to defend its borders, especially in moments of acute danger. But glorifying military leaders in a country that has spent more than half of its post-independence years under direct or indirect military rule risks repeating cycles of oppression and instability that have stunted democratic progress.
Pakistan’s military is not just a defense institution. It is an economic actor, political power broker, and gatekeeper of national narratives. The appointment of Munir as field marshal is largely ceremonial, but the symbolism is potent. The military has been repeatedly accused of manipulating elections, intimidating opponents, and suppressing dissent. In 2024, the party of former Prime Minister Imran Khan, despite facing legal and political crackdowns, emerged as the largest bloc in parliament through independent candidates. That result is widely attributed to Khan’s enduring popularity and public skepticism of military-backed political moves.
Meanwhile, the Sharif government’s continued concessions to the military signal a dangerous willingness to sideline democratic norms for short-term political security. Political analyst Cyril Almeida has rightly noted that the promotion of Munir is a strategic move to signal loyalty rather than leadership. It represents an implicit surrender of civilian supremacy in exchange for continued relevance.
Pakistan need not look far for an example of what assertive civilian leadership can achieve. In Turkey, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, despite his own authoritarian tendencies, confronted and curbed the military’s historical grip over politics. Turkey’s generals, once kingmakers, were brought under civilian control. That shift helped stabilize governance and, for a time, allowed the country to focus on economic growth and institutional development.
Pakistan must chart a similar course. Its economic potential, vast population, and strategic location mean it should be competing with regional peers. Instead, it lags behind India and Bangladesh, both of which, despite their own challenges, have benefitted from relatively stable civilian-led governments. Pakistan’s economy is beginning to recover, with inflation falling and foreign reserves stabilizing. But sustainable progress requires consistent democratic governance, not continued military dominance.
Field Marshal Munir may well be a capable leader, but the nation must remember that true strength lies not in ranks or medals, but in institutions that are accountable to the people. Pakistan’s future depends on restoring that balance, not reinforcing the imbalance that has held it back for decades.