Asif Mahmood
The conviction of Imran Khan and his wife in the Toshakhana case is a stark reminder of how power, when mixed with arrogance and moral grandstanding, often circles back on itself. In politics, as in life, history has a way of delivering its own verdict. This moment is less about partisan rivalry and more about the principle of accountability and the harsh logic of moral consequence.

For years, Imran Khan built his political identity on the language of purity. He did not merely accuse his opponents of corruption. He branded them thieves, looters, and certified criminals. He presented himself as morally superior, as the sole custodian of honesty in a nation he repeatedly described as morally compromised. Politics under his leadership was not a contest of ideas but a moral trial in which he was the judge and everyone else stood in the dock.

Today, the roles have reversed. The man who promised to jail others now finds himself behind bars. The leader who spoke of accountability with near religious zeal has been declared guilty by the very judicial system that once appeared indulgent toward him. Courts that once certified him as honest and trustworthy have now convicted him for corruption. The symbolism is unavoidable.

This is what makes the episode a classic case of moral retribution. Not divine punishment, but political and ethical consequence. When leaders weaponize morality, they raise the standard by which they themselves will eventually be judged. Imran Khan did not merely fail to meet that standard. He collapsed under its weight.

The Toshakhana case is significant not only because of the legal outcome but because of what it exposes about political culture. Khan normalized the idea that opponents were not rivals but criminals. He popularized humiliation as a political tool, boasting about imprisoning adversaries and denying them basic comforts. Today, when he complains about the lack of facilities in jail, the irony is painful and instructive. Power feels different when it is no longer absolute.

This moment also punctures the myth that institutions exist to serve personalities. For a long time, there was a perception that certain courts were sympathetic to Khan, that favorable verdicts followed favorable narratives. His supporters treated judicial remarks as proof of his righteousness. Now that the same system has ruled against him, the narrative has shifted toward victimhood and conspiracy. The institution has not changed. The individual standing before it has.

More importantly, this episode should serve as a lesson beyond one individual. Pakistani politics has long suffered from moral absolutism. Leaders promise accountability but practice vengeance. They speak of justice but demand immunity for themselves. The fall of Imran Khan should remind all political actors that the law eventually catches up, and rhetoric cannot permanently shield reality.

This is not a celebration of anyone’s downfall. It is a warning. Politics built on self righteousness is fragile. Sooner or later, the mirror turns inward. What we are witnessing is not merely a legal judgment. It is the closing of a moral circle. A textbook case of accountability, consequence, and yes, makafat e amal.