A Cricketer Entangled in the Politics of Chess — Imran Khan: A Scene of Minus or a New Move on an Old Board?
By Raja Zahid Akhtar Khanzada
Politics in Pakistan is not a cricket field it is a complex chessboard. Here, victories are not won by hitting sixes, but by reading the opponent’s next move. Imran Khan, who once crowned the nation with a World Cup in cricket, entered politics with the same triumphant spirit. But he forgot that this arena is different. There are no applauding crowds here moves are made in silence, behind veils.
Imran Khan made the same mistake that many dreamers in politics have made before: in the eagerness for power, he turned away from the sunshine of democracy and sought shelter in the shadow of the establishment. That is, instead of relying on democratic principles, he put his faith in powerful quarters and like some leaders before him, his end mirrored theirs. His dream of power was buried beneath the conspiracies of power itself. But the problem wasn’t just misplaced reliance it was a flawed understanding of the game. Politics is a game, yes, but not of cricket. It is chess. And in chess, the winner plays not with their hands but with their mind. They don’t fixate on pawns, they watch the fate of the king.
In cricket, the ball comes before your eyes, the bat swings, runs are made, and victory is embraced amid roaring applause. But in politics, the move isn’t seen, it arrives quietly, written behind curtains. Sometimes, the king doesn’t even realize he’s lost until the throne slips from beneath his feet.
Imran Khan gave this nation a dream on the cricket field and that dream came true. But when he tried to bring that same dream to the chessboard of politics, he forgot that here, victories come not from sixes but from silent, strategic moves. He entered the system holding the establishment’s finger, like a new student walking to school with his teacher. But when the teacher changed course, the student was left alone, without a syllabus, without protection, and without the wisdom that is the first condition for surviving in the chess of politics.
Today, when Aleema Khan says, “Ali Amin Gandapur has minus-ed Imran Khan,” it doesn’t sound like mere emotional outburst it feels like someone has suddenly flipped the chessboard. This isn’t just a political disagreement or a complaint it’s an expression of a deep, unspoken truth: that PTI now stands at a crossroads. From here, either a new PTI will be born… or a new chapter in political history will be written.
This moment is not just a reflection of the present it echoes the past. It is that recurring tale of Pakistani politics where leaders are repeatedly “minused,” but the script remains unchanged. The characters may rotate, the dialogues might seem new but the stage, the lines, and the director never change.
Just glance at the past board where in every era, the pawns changed, but the king’s strategy remained the same. Once, there was a Prime Minister like Bhutto, brought to power on a wave of public fervor.
But in the chess of destiny, he was merely a pawn , swallowed by Zia’s silent move.
The man the people crowned a king was branded a traitor by the state, and one morning, when the world awoke, that Quaid-e-Awam was swinging from a rope wrapped in the darkness of history.
But the story didn’t end there. After this murder of democracy, Zia-ul-Haq himself sat on the throne of power, ruling every move on the board for eleven years. Cloaked in Islam and democracy, he staged the farce of non-party elections, lifting Muhammad Khan Junejo from the pawn’s row and placing him as Prime Minister a king in name only.
The PPP was cornered, political loyalties were sold, and fear permeated the air of every city.
Then, when Junejo merely hinted at asserting independence, he was removed from the throne and with that, his pawn was swept off the board. But the moves of time are higher than all others. Even Zia’s plane exploded midair, and the same sky he once saw as his fortress became his execution ground.
Then came Benazir Bhutto, returning with hopes of a new game. But she too was given the throne for only eleven months just long enough, it seemed, for the queen to show her face and be sacrificed for another move.
This is the game of chess, sir, Here, if pawns raise their heads, they are crushed, and if a king brings with him a vision, checkmate becomes his fate.
The board remains the same only the players change.
Thus, Nawaz Sharif became king three times on this board, yet each time, a horse’s leap or a bishop’s crooked move forced him into checkmate. The fortified walls of the establishment became tests for his politics. His ministers were removed like pawns; comrades who once saw the party as Noah’s Ark were cast ashore; and from the throne in Lahore to the Senate halls, all dissolved into termite-eaten dreams.
And again came Benazir Bhutto—the queen who claimed the throne time and again, yet each time, the pointing finger of accusation and the cunning moves of the judiciary forced her off the board. The accusations varied sometimes corruption, sometimes mismanagement, and sometimes, simply falling out of favor with the powers of the day.
But she was a queen neither afraid of moves nor daunted by defeat. She knew that the real king in chess is the one who stands with his pawns. And so she made her next move by reaching a Charter of Democracy with Nawaz Sharif, once her rival. For the first time in history, two kings shook hands, hoping that this time, it wouldn’t be a script, but a principle that would be written.
When she returned from exile, it wasn’t merely a political comeback it was a return of truth, courage, and sacrifice. But the scene of Musharraf’s rule was lined with swords. Multiple assassination attempts were made against her. Bomb blasts echoed through her welcome procession. Hundreds of workers turned into corpses. The land turned red. The skies filled with sobs…
Yet she did not panic. She did not retreat.
She knew every move demands a price and she was ready to pay it in full.
She was fearless— a queen not for her own rule, but for the people’s sovereignty.
But…
on the chessboard she stood upon with such resolve, the final move was made in Rawalpindi.
Her last breaths faded in Liaquat Bagh, lost amid the stomping of a bishop, the gallop of a horse, the collusion of faceless pieces.
And so the queen, who always came back was this time “minused” before she could even return.
The board turned, and the people were once again robbed of a hope.
And then…
Altaf Hussain the rook who reigned for decades over Karachi’s board.
His voice echoed through every home, every wall, every rally. Suddenly, he was silenced like a piece removed without even being checkmated.
Through court orders and media blackouts, he was cast into the pit of obscurity.
The MQM workers once ready to lay down their lives at a mere gesture from Altaf Hussain either shed their loyalty like old garments and joined new parties (changing their colors like chess pieces), or quietly walked off the board of politics altogether. No names remained. No roles.
And those who remained steadfast were made to disappear. Thousands of workers left their homes one morning and never returned.
Many of their graves still lie in Karachi’s Shuhada Qabristan, bearing witness that this wasn’t just politics.
This was war.
A war in which some soldiers were forever removed from the game.
This is the truth that the kings, ministers, and rooks of politics often forget while seated on the chessboard.
And so, a new MQM chessboard was laid, complete with everything except the rook. who once ruled the old game.
This is Pakistani politics where leaders are minused, but the move remains the same…
The board stays the same, the pieces are new, and the spectators are always left stunned.
And today… on this political chessboard stands that very pawn who once believed himself to be the king: Imran Khan.
In the intricate chess of power, he too chose the same path that many past players had to make his moves in the shadow of powerful elephants, forgetting that the same bunkers that offer protection can, when needed, encircle and crush.
In the 2018 game, he had the backing of the state’s royal steeds.
Through NAB, it was as if a minister was lifting off opposing pawns,
labeling opponents as thieves and throwing them into the jail squares of the board. But in chess, every move prepares the next. The doors he helped shut began to open against him. He forgot that the establishment’s support is never permanent , the same hands that place you on the throne, when turned, don’t point fingers… they aim barrels.
MQM too once ruled the boards of Karachi and Hyderabad like a powerful rook. But Altaf Hussain was minused from the scene overnight.
And it wasn’t just state force that erased him it was the very pawns who once sat at his feet and called him their spiritual guide, who flipped the game against him.
Today, Imran Khan’s PTI stands at that same bridge the only difference is the king has changed, but the script remains the same.
Khan Sahib mistook politics for cricket, where the ball is straight, and the strike is direct. But in chess, every piece carries a king within and every move can be a deception.
In Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, a two-thirds majority once won in his name
is now passing the budget without his consultation while he, from behind prison bars, pleads:
“The budget should not have been passed without my input!”
But in the noise of the chessboard, the voices of the imprisoned only reach the ears of a few loyal ones.
On the board, the pieces around Khan are shrinking. Bushra Bibi faces cases, party workers are jailed, and PTI’s front-line leaders are quietly plotting new moves in the corridors of Washington and Rawalpindi.
This scene reminds us of the old chapters of political chess where every piece was lifted from its square some dethroned, some smeared with accusations,
some vanished forever behind the curtain of time.
Muhammad Khan Junejo…
the appointed prime minister,
handpicked by another’s finger and placed on the throne. But the moment he hinted at independence,
it was as if a pawn had dared step beyond its bounds, and the fortress crushed him without mercy.
His kingship was revoked, and loyalty was repaid with betrayal.
Yousaf Raza Gillani…
the prime minister who dared to speak, who tried to draw a line of authority between judiciary and establishment, but the judges of this chessboard played the move of religious verdicts. He was removed from the throne and thrown out of the game.
Another silent move on the board of politics.
Rana Sanaullah…
the piece you, drunk on power, humiliated, just to break the pride of his mustache , you tried to checkmate him through a fake heroin case,
crushing his reputation and character
with the full force of the system.
But you forgot, not every pawn in chess is destined for defeat.
Sometimes, the pawn reaches the last square, and today, that same Rana Sanaullah is a key advisor to the Prime Minister, while you… behind bars, cry out, “I was wronged!”
And when he was facing cases, your lips were silent, because you were on the throne.
And from the throne, who has time to look down?
But time…
Time is the only piece on the board
whose move no one can stop.
And the same applies to Asif Zardari the man you once threw behind bars along with his sister. Investigations, references, testimonies, you brought it all forward, yet you failed to prove a single charge. The very Zardari who endured ten long years in prison during a dark age of dictatorship, never bowed his head, never compromised with the system.
But because of your politics, he chose to bend the chessboard by, compromising with the very system and today, he is once again the President of Pakistan.
Yes, personally, I do not subscribe to his philosophy of plunder,
and it’s true, he exploited constitutional loopholes to amass wealth. But still… no one could catch him. Just like Donald Trump , who scripted his own moves on the chessboard of law, and despite every accusation… he walked free.
Because in politics, crime alone is never enough.
Timing, connections, and craft, when all three align, even a pawn becomes a king.
Khawaja Asif…
whose words once struck at the fortresses of power , overnight, battlefronts were drawn, his name blacklisted, and he was thrown into a square of silence, where even if his voice tried to escape, it bounced off the walls and came right back.
Asfandyar Wali…
when he tried to shift the narrative,
it was as if his entire party was archived as a faded silhouette on the dusty pages of history.
No voice remained, no impact.
But that… was yesterday’s scene.
Today…
the same Yousaf Raza Gillani,
once declared disqualified by judicial pieces and removed from the board,
now proudly holds the chair of Chairman Senate, seated once again on the same chessboard as an advisor to the king, a stakeholder in the game.
Today…
the same Khawaja Asif,
whose tongue once lashed venom at the castles of power, now sits on the throne of the Defense Ministry.
His tone has changed, so have his moves.
He is now a preacher of the hybrid regime’s philosophy, reciting praises of the Field Marshal. It almost feels as though the king’s sword is washed each day with his very ink.
The same politicians who once dreamt of a Charter of Democracy —
today, one of them, Benazir, has been minused from the very board of life,
and the other, Nawaz Sharif, sits outside the game as a spectator.
The same Nawaz, who was once the king, is now a pawn. And his pawn now sits as king on someone else’s throne.
The heads of both parties,
once bitter rivals, are now either buried beneath the soil or bound in silent agreements.
And the Charter of Democracy…
which was built on the foundation of principles, today, even uttering its name feels uncomfortable.
Those same politicians now serve under a new pact,
playing a new game with old pieces.
They are no longer opposed to each other, nor to the establishment, instead, united in soul and purpose,
they are preparing for one shared move:
-Minus Imran Khan.
And Imran Khan…the one who, in the past, the establishment used for every task, the one they once labeled as “Father,” the one handed the rope of power and paraded before the nation
Today,
those same players,
are fulfilling those same roles, without resistance , like obedient children.
And Khan, now off the board, waits behind prison bars for his move to return.
Because the board is still the same…
The moves are still the same…
Only the king has changed.
And the old enemies
are now loyal advisors of his former kingdom.
So the question remains:
Is Imran Khan just another chapter in the same old story?
Is he another Zulfiqar Bhutto, Benazir Bhutto, Murtaza Bhutto, Altaf Hussain,
or another Nawaz Sharif in the making?
Or…
is he trying to write a new move in this ancient game of chess?
For now…
the board is silent.
And all eyes are fixed on the next move.
Today, Imran Khan sits behind the bars of Adiala. His party is scattered.
Hundreds of workers face legal charges. The caravan of Tehreek-e-Insafwanders in a cloud of disarray,
searching for its direction.
But all of this is secondary to one far greater question…
Will Imran Khan’s admirers, his workers, and the public. who once stood ready to break every door on the slogans of “thief” and “dacoit” now come to terms with this bitter truth?
That slogans, emotions, and hero worship alone are not enough?
Politics is not a cricket field. Here, the ball doesn’t come straight. There are no visible bouncers. No catches are dropped, but pieces are lost.
Imran Khan, who once held aloft the World Cup trophy on a cricket ground,
now stands at a point in the chessboard of politics where the players have changed and the board is about to flip.
In politics, success isn’t won by hitting sixes. It’s earned through patience, prudence, and understanding the moves. There is no applause here, only silent claps from hidden hands —
the same hands that lie beneath files, above call recordings, and at times, field a new team without even informing the “Captain.”
Imran Khan must now understand that in politics, being a captain is less important than recognizing the pieces
those who seem to stand beside you,
but in truth, are already placed on the altar for the next move.
He must realize:
every lost game reshapes the path to victory, but only for those who learn from defeat, not for those who ram their heads into the wall out of stubbornness.
Resistance has its place, but history is witness: those who never learned the moves of chess were either exiled, or silenced.
Sometimes they were called Altaf,
sometimes they became the symbol of Benazir’s sacrifice, sometimes they dissolved into Nawaz’s silence.
If Imran Khan truly wishes to stay alive in politics, he must leave behind the aggression of cricket, and embrace the quiet strategy of chess.
He must begin valuing every piece , not just the big names like Shah Mehmood or Pervez Khattak,
but also those unnamed workers,
whose sincerity poured out as tears on the streets, and who today can no longer see their “Gandapurs” standing beside them. Time is short. The board is shifting. Pieces are melting, some from the heat of power, some from the changing winds.
If Tehreek-e-Insaf still believes it can win this chess game, through social media, rallies, and slogans alone, then remember:
This is chess.
Every move buries the last one.
Victory belongs to the one
who, even in defeat, saves his pieces.
And if Imran Khan doesn’t learn this game, it won’t be long before PTI becomes PTI Pakistan, and Imran Khan is remembered as just another Altaf…….another chapter,
another silence, another portrait left hanging on the wall.
Who will decide that?
The people? Or those who are the true kings of this chessboard?
Remember… the rule of politics is this:
He who does not understand the language of the chess master,
remains forever a piece, never a king.
And now, it is no longer Imran Khan’s moment. it is a test of his consciousness.
A consciousness that must see beyond emotion, that must turn the crowd into a nation, and revolution into more than a slogan, into a philosophy.
If Tehreek-e-Insaf’s journey truly stands for a principle, a vision, a destination, then it must learn the laws of chess. Where being on the field is not enough, the mind must be awake.
In politics, success does not belong to those who speak the loudest, but to those who silently perceive the next move.
Otherwise, this caravan too will halt
where history often leaves those
who mistake politics for cricket.
And those who shout slogans on a chessboard, are never even noticed.
That is why
in the fog of history, one still hears the forgotten king Bahadur Shah Zafar’s lament:
“Play your move with wisdom and care — For, Zafar, the affairs of the world too are but a game of chess.”
