Asif Mahmood

PTI has made narrative-building into a full-time job. Not just to push their point of view—but to erase facts, twist events, and label everything against them as a conspiracy. Whether it’s fake news, selective outrage, or flat-out lies, they’ve turned it all into a political weapon.

The method is simple: attack opponents, bully institutions, and cry “persecution” when caught. Every time the police arrest a PTI leader, it’s suddenly an “abduction.” Every corruption case becomes “political revenge.” They want courts to act only when it suits them—and to stay silent when it doesn’t.

But let’s look at the record.

All the major cases against Imran Khan and Bushra Bibi—the Toshakhana scandal, the £190 million NCA settlement—were filed through legal channels. Courts didn’t jump to convict. In fact, defence lawyers did everything to delay proceedings: technical objections, repeated absences, even refusal to appear. Trial courts gave them every opportunity. And when sentences came, appeals were allowed—and in some cases, even suspensions. Is this how dictatorships work? Or does it look more like a system bending over backwards to accommodate them?

Even in jail, Imran Khan is no ordinary prisoner. He has seven cells to himself, a walking corridor, an exercise bike, books, newspapers, a television. In Pakistan’s jails, most inmates don’t even have clean water. But PTI still plays the victim card.

From jail, Imran runs a full media campaign. His X (Twitter) account is as active as ever—over 400 posts since his arrest. He comments on elections, legislation, national policy—while claiming he’s being silenced. His statements appear regularly in newspapers, especially in the English press. Just in the past year, he’s made front-page news 45 times.

Foreign media lines up to interview him—Reuters, Fox News, The Telegraph. You’d think they were covering a dissident locked in solitary confinement. But the truth is, he’s a political leader convicted under corruption laws, living more comfortably than most prisoners in the country.

Inside PTI, the drama continues. In just three months, 66 visitors have come to see him in jail—lawyers, family, party workers. Factions are fighting, loyalties are shifting, and power games are underway. But even that gets spun into a victim story. According to PTI, they’re being crushed. According to facts, they’re alive and kicking—and plotting their next move.

Let’s be clear. This is not political revenge. It’s not a crackdown. It’s long-overdue accountability. The same accountability PTI promised for others but never applied to itself. Now that the process has reached their own doorstep, they’ve turned it into theatre.

But no matter how loud the noise, how dramatic the slogans, or how many times they shout “victim,” the facts don’t change.

The law is finally catching up. And that’s not persecution—it’s justice.