Lahore, Pakistan: When I stepped out on a cool Thursday morning to cover Pakistan's 12th general election, there was an air of inevitability about the whole exercise.
Many prominent analysts had already predicted that the conditions were ripe for three-time former prime minister Nawaz Sharif to return to power.
Even though it was clear that the path was paved by Pakistan's military, which once helped Sharif's political rival Imran Khan rise to power, at Sharif's expense. Even though the same ruling class has tormented Sharif not once but twice – first when he was removed as prime minister in Pervez Musharraf's coup in 1999, and then again when he was removed from office in 2017. That's when he was chased and later convicted in a corruption case.
Relations between Khan and the military deteriorated, the case against Sharif was dropped, and the tide seemed to be turning.
It's been more than 24 hours since I started visiting polling places and talking to voters, and one thing has become clear to me. The outcome of this election is by no means clear. Whatever the final outcome, this election was closer than analysts expected on the eve of voting.
Early results bear that out.Khan's The Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) party has been denied the use of its election symbol, the cricket bat. Khan, a charismatic former cricket captain and philanthropist, was sentenced on multiple charges just days before the election. He has been in prison since August last year.
Still, as of 11:30 a.m. local time on Friday (6:30 a.m. Japan time), the PTI had announced that Mr. Sharif, despite the fact that a candidate from Mr. Khan's party was forced to run as an independent. It is a close race with the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PMLN) party. Candidates from Khan's PTI party won nine seats, the PMLN won 10 seats, and the third leading candidate, the Pakistan People's Party (PPP), won six seats.
After what I saw and heard on Thursday, I wasn't surprised at all.
It all started with my phone. Despite the government's advance warning and my hunch, it was still a bit of a shock to find out that my mobile internet connection was turned off. The official reason was security concerns, but apparently those in power were concerned that the script they were planning required technical intervention.
My first stop was Model Town, an upscale area of Lahore where Nawaz Sharif's brother Shehbaz Sharif, himself a former prime minister, was expected to vote.
With 15 minutes to go before voting opened at 8am (3am GMT), two small lines had formed, one for women voters and one for men.
Leading the women's side was Saadia, a 29-year-old doctor. Wearing her face mask, she said it was very important to her to go vote even though she has the flu.
“This is our national duty and responsibility,” she said with determination. “If we don't do what we're supposed to do, we have no right to complain.”
A group of women behind her also appeared enthusiastic and eager to vote, but one of them had just started expressing support for Khan and the PTI, so a male member of her family intervened.
“We don't want to talk to any media. We don't trust who you are,” he told me bluntly, and instructed the women in his family to avoid conversation as well.
This was my first inkling of the day I was about to witness.
As I visited nearly 20 different election precincts and polling stations, a harsh reality began to emerge. Instead of the usual election day frenzy, there was a quiet scream.
PTI followers, though seemingly in small numbers, were vocal. Young families, men, women and even a frail 72-year-old man in a wheelchair rallied to support Khan.
“If the PMLN comes, we know how they can destroy the economy and everything else. But Mr. Khan's eyes are clear. He tells us all over the world He performed miracles and earned us more respect with his speeches,” Ahmed Malik, a 19-year-old wearing glasses, told me.
Another group of young people were playing cricket near the polling booth, behind Lahore's iconic Badshahi Mosque. When I asked one of them, Zafar, if he had voted, he nodded in the negative.
“We had a game in the morning, but once it's over, we're all going to go together,'' he said, pointing to the rest of his teammates. “You have to vote for the captain.” [in reference to Khan, who was captain of the Pakistan cricket team],” he added.
Their convictions stood in stark contrast to the PMLN's quiet confidence, which bordered on complacency.
Two days before the election, on the last day of the election campaign, I did not meet a single PMLN party official seeking votes in Lahore's old districts. One party official I spoke to confided that the party had “completed” its election campaign and was confident that people would turn out to vote for the party.
This almost sounded like arrogance.
However, on February 8, figures shared by Election Commission of Pakistan (ECP) officials in some polling stations, especially in middle-class and working-class neighborhoods, showed that turnout was in the range of 20-30 percent. was.
Officials from the Special Investigation Unit stationed at the polling station told Al Jazeera that the removal of the cricket bat mark from the ballot papers and the crackdown on Khan may have convinced PTI supporters not to vote. He told Al Jazeera that it appeared to be sexual.
When I asked how that reflected in the results, one of them said: Our responsibility was to ensure smooth, free and fair elections. '' they all said without a trace of sarcasm.
We have noticed that although PMLN supporters are coming to vote in various areas of Lahore, there appears to be a lack of organized vote drives that political parties keen to seize power usually rely on. Ta.
Rana Abdul Quds, a 41-year-old businessman, said that for him and his family, the inspiration for Nawaz Sharif and his party went far beyond the party's promises.
“There is no doubt that he has done a great deal for the business community. But it is also true that to us he is our neighbor, and God calls us to do good as a neighbor. ” he told Al Jazeera.
On the other hand, I also saw in the queue determined PTI supporters who had cast their votes as a sign of protest against this treatment, and politically apathetic voters who had gone to see the party leader, uniting to support Mr. Khan. They also discovered that they were determined to support the party.
A 33-year-old male voter who lives in an upscale area of Lahore and asked to remain anonymous said, “I voted for the centrist PTI as a protest against the regime's constant interference, and I went along with it because I like the PTI.'' It's not from here.'' “I don't think they will form the next government, but I hope they understand that it is important to remain in parliament to be an effective opposition party. ”
Most other parts of Lahore I visited had low turnout. But as the clock neared the designated polling deadline of 5 p.m., I stopped by another polling station in an upper-class area of Lahore, where some commotion continued.
What I found out was that most of the women arrived to vote before the time was up and there was a rush.
NA-122 constituency was won by Imran Khan himself in the 2018 elections and is considered to be the constituency where the leader had a lot of support and support.
Among those in line was Ramsha Sikander, a 22-year-old student who was there to vote for the first time.
Sikander said he had always wanted to vote, although he was late because he was caring for his grandmother who was not feeling well.
“I think Mr. Khan and the PTI are the only hope to bring about change in our country. Their promise, their drive and of course Imran Khan's charisma. My entire family are PTI voters.” she said to me.
But Sikander was rather cynical about the country's future if the results showed a winner other than Khan.
“I have no expectations for the other leaders left behind. If they end up winning, there is no hope for this country,” she said.
But for Azka Shahzad, a 27-year-old dentist, this “emotional and enthusiastic” support for the PTI was one of the main reasons she left the party.
“In 2018, I was a big fan of PTI. I campaigned for PTI in the elections. But looking back now, I think that vote was a mistake,” she told me.
It happened so much that she considered quitting practice altogether this year. In fact, Shahzad arrived at the polling station just 20 minutes before voting time ended.
“I spent the morning thinking about whether I really should come and if I did, who I should vote for,” she said.
The dentist agrees that the PTI has been the subject of state-sponsored repression and condemns unreservedly what happened in the party, while denying what she calls “justice” for the party's supporters. He said he was angry.
“Look, there were other parties in the past who had just as much trouble, if not more. This time it's their turn,” Shahzad said as he left the polling booth. “I just hope they learn humility and self-reflection and do better in the future.”