- By: Barrister Usman Ali, Ph.D.
Politics has a habit of confronting people with the culture they once helped create. Harsh rhetoric, ridicule and personal attacks used against political opponents rarely remain confined to the other side. Sooner or later, the same habits can turn inward.
The recent controversy involving Shaukat Yousafzai offers a telling example.
Yousafzai, PTI’s provincial information secretary in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, wrote to the party leadership suggesting that its October 4 long march be postponed in view of the security situation and increased terrorist activity. His argument was straightforward: in such circumstances, restraint, dialogue and political strategy deserved serious consideration.
In a democratic political party, that should not be controversial. Political organisations are supposed to debate competing views before reaching collective decisions. A proposal may be accepted or rejected, but disagreement itself should not become a test of loyalty.
Yet that is where the controversy shifted. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Chief Minister Sohail Afridi said that if Yousafzai’s letter reached him, he would tear it up and throw it in the dustbin. A fierce social-media reaction followed. Yousafzai later said his loyalty had been questioned, that he had been branded a traitor and accused of having been “bought off”. During a television appearance, he became visibly emotional.
His distress appeared to reflect something deeper than the rejection of a political suggestion. After years with the party, he found himself having to reaffirm his loyalty simply because he had expressed a different view.
That raises an important question: if a senior provincial office-holder must defend his political credentials after offering internal advice, how freely can an ordinary party worker speak?
PTI’s success in turning social media into a major political force in Pakistan is widely recognised. Digital platforms helped it shape narratives, mobilise supporters and communicate directly with the public on a scale rarely seen before in Pakistani politics. But the same power can become damaging when political disagreement is treated as disloyalty.
Over the years, opposition politicians, journalists and critics have often faced derogatory labels, personal attacks and aggressive rhetoric. Other political parties are certainly not innocent of such behaviour. PTI’s large online ecosystem, however, makes its internal culture especially significant.
Leadership plays a central role in setting the boundaries of acceptable political conduct. When aggressive language is rewarded or celebrated as proof of commitment, it can gradually become part of the political culture rather than remain the excess of a few individuals.
Imran Khan has frequently used sharp language for political opponents, while colleagues known for attacking rivals were at times publicly praised. Terms such as “thieves”, “traitors” and “dacoits” became familiar features of political rhetoric. Some figures who once defended PTI in equally combative terms later left the party and turned similar rhetoric against Khan. When political loyalty rests more on personalities and emotion than on principles, attitudes can swing rapidly from one extreme to another.
A culture that routinely describes opponents as thieves, traitors, enemies or conspirators trains supporters to attack rather than argue. Once normalised, that instinct does not necessarily stop with rival politicians or journalists. It can eventually be directed at dissenters within the party itself.
The role of some overseas-based YouTubers and social-media activists also merits scrutiny. Content centred on Imran Khan and PTI attracts large audiences and, for some creators, income. This can create incentives of its own: confrontation and outrage often attract more attention than moderation or compromise.
Consequently, when a politician proposes talks, reconciliation or a change in strategy, the response can become so intense that he spends more time defending his loyalty than explaining his proposal.
Serious advisers may become reluctant to speak. Those advocating negotiations can fear being branded weak, compromised or disloyal. Gradually, leaders hear more from people who reinforce existing views and less from those willing to challenge them. Internal consultation weakens, and decision-making becomes narrower.
That is why the Yousafzai episode matters. Debate moved quickly from the substance of his proposal to his loyalty. He was compelled to stress that he remained with PTI and Imran Khan and would abide by the party’s decision.
Why should such declarations be necessary after the expression of a political opinion?
The question goes to the heart of the difference between a democratic party and personality-centred politics. In the latter, unconditional loyalty to the leader can become the highest measure of political virtue. In an institutional party, disagreement is normal: members debate, challenge one another, lose arguments and continue working together.
A party’s democratic character cannot be measured merely by the size of its rallies or social-media following. A more meaningful test is whether its workers and leaders can disagree with the party chief without having to produce a certificate of loyalty afterwards.
Seen in this light, Shaukat Yousafzai’s tears represent more than one politician’s personal hurt. They raise a broader question about a political culture in which trolling, humiliation and personal attacks may be used against opponents and then, over time, against dissenting voices within the same movement.
Critics may call this political karma. It can also be read as a warning about institutional decline.
When disagreement becomes dangerous, serious voices retreat. When loyalty matters more than judgment, debate weakens. And when every difference of opinion is treated as betrayal, a political party loses part of its capacity to correct its own mistakes.
For PTI, the episode presents an opportunity for institutional reflection: greater internal consultation, stronger political education for workers, clearer boundaries against abusive online conduct and more room for disagreement without questioning a member’s loyalty.
Political parties do not become strong merely through slogans, rallies or social-media reach. Their institutional strength is tested when a worker can disagree with the leader and still be accepted as one of their own