Aleema Khan & the Politics of Privilege: Are Principles Only for the Commoners?

In Pakistan’s political landscape, the role of the elite has always been central and controversial. This class, with its control over wealth, influence, and narratives, often presents personal interest as public principle. Justice, sacrifice, and struggle are noble ideals, but within elite circles, these are frequently reserved for others, while convenience and personal benefit take priority when their own turn comes.

The Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) emerged as a party that challenged this very elite mind-set. It promised change, merit, and an end to dynastic control. Yet over time, cracks in this promise have become increasingly visible and no case illustrates this better than that of Aleema Khan, sister of PTI founder Imran Khan.

Over the past two years, PTI workers have faced numerous challenges arrests, legal pressures, and social fallout. Thousands of them, many nameless and faceless, endured quietly. Yet during this time, Aleema Khan remained largely silent. She made no visible effort to speak out for the party’s grassroots, no press conferences, no social media campaigns, no legal advocacy.

Despite her proximity to the leadership and media platforms, she was absent from the narrative whenever it involved the plight of ordinary PTI workers. However, things changed dramatically when her own son was reportedly arrested. Suddenly, Aleema Khan found her voice urging protests, speaking out against injustice, and calling on party workers to rise. The timing raised an obvious question:

Is injustice only worth speaking about when it affects your own family?

Her shift from silence to activism paints a telling picture of how certain “principles” in elite politics are often activated only when personal interests are involved.
One of PTI’s loudest claims has always been its opposition to family-based politics, often mocking other parties for being “dynastic.” Yet the reality inside PTI shows that key voices influencing the party today are largely those from within a specific inner circle.

Aleema Khan holds no official position in PTI. She has never contested elections, nor is she an elected representative. Yet she often speaks on behalf of the party, represents its narrative in the media, and even influences strategic decisions. This raises legitimate concerns: Is this not the same dynastic influence PTI claimed to fight against? If unelected family members are shaping political discourse and strategy, then how is PTI any different from the status quo it once vowed to dismantle?

PTI workers have always been its backbone, from organizing rallies to defending the party online and on the streets. But when it comes to real decision-making, their voices are rarely heard. Instead, they are expected to show up when called, protest when told, and sacrifice without question.

Now, when a member of the elite faces consequences, the same workers who received no support during their own struggles are suddenly being asked to protest and mobilize.
Why should workers be expected to fight for those who never fought for them?
Aleema Khan’s recent behaviour underscores a recurring issue in Pakistani politics: principles often bend when the powerful are personally affected. For the elite, the game changes when their own family is involved. What was once silence becomes moral outrage; what was once strategic patience becomes a call to action.

For PTI’s dedicated supporters especially its ordinary workers this moment should serve as a wake-up call. Are they standing for a cause? Or are they simply defending the privileges of a few elite families?