The military grapevine in Rawalpindi is buzzing with rumors of Army Chief Asim Munir’s alleged secret affair with Maryam Nawaz. Among military families, there is a growing consensus that this alleged relationship bears a striking resemblance to a past affair—when former Army Chief Yahya Khan, involved with a woman famously known as General Rani (Akleem Akhtar), lost half the country in 1971 while indulging in wine and women. Such scandals are not new in Pakistan’s history.
Army Chief Asim Munir with Chief Minister Punjab Marriam Nawaz
Army Chief Asim Munir with Chief Minister Punjab Marriam Nawaz
Sources within Pakistan’s military and intelligence community claim that Army Chief Asim Munir favours Maryam Nawaz, to the extent that it could even be described as taking dictation from her. Allegedly, there have been multiple private meetings between the two, lasting several hours on more than one occasion. The military’s alleged rigging of the February 2024 elections, which led to the current government and has drawn serious concerns from world leaders, further lends credibility to these claims. After all, there is no smoke without fire. However, despite obvious signs, the affair remains discreet.
This picture of the Army Chief Asim Munir was published in the Command and Staff College Magazine, when Munir was a student there, and he was termed as THE DECEIVER in the military publication.
However, Asim Munir differs from Yahya Khan in one key aspect—he is known among his colleagues as “The Deceiver” and, therefore, keeps his affairs highly secretive. A critical analysis of his career reveals a consistent pattern of poor performance in every role he has undertaken, whether within the Army, as Director General of Military Intelligence (DGMI), or as Director General of the Inter-Services Intelligence (DG ISI). His actions have severely tarnished the image of the Pakistan Army, a fact that does not surprise many officers. Numerous international observers, including former U.S. Ambassador Zalmay Khalilzad, have also raised concerns about Munir’s psychological fitness for his position.
Ambassoder Zalmay Khalilza (left), General Asim Munir (Right)
Khalilzad recently posted a series of tweets condemning Munir’s volatile temperament, arguing that such an unstable individual should not have access to nuclear weapons. He also criticized Munir’s use of abusive language and threats against critics’ families in the military, citing a leaked speech in which Munir allegedly warned that if he “goes down,” he will take others with him. Khalilzad emphasized the need for Pakistan to have a responsible and politically neutral military leader—an opinion widely shared among military officers. However, despite their agreement, these officers lack the moral courage to challenge Munir’s authority.
The greatest fear I encountered in my discussions with senior military officers and their families—particularly among Brigadier Generals and above—is that of a “Colonels’ Revolution.” This fear stems from the prospects of losing their authority and benefits to their junior officers, in a constipatedly rank-conscious culture of the Pakistan Army
As a third-generation officer of the Pakistan Army myself, I have directly questioned senior military officials regarding this situation. Their response? A robotic reference to “military discipline” as their reason for staying silent. In my view, this is nothing more than self-preservation at the cost of national interests. Speaking out against tyranny comes at a steep price—one that I have personally paid.
My case is frequently cited as a warning to any officer considering standing on the right side of history. For daring to speak out, I was court-martialed in absentia, sentenced to 14 years of rigorous imprisonment for allegedly violating the Official Secrets Act—seven years after my retirement. My assets were seized, my pension was blocked, and my mother was abducted by ISI operatives while attempting to leave the country via Islamabad Airport.
To understand how such unchecked power operates, I draw the reader’s attention to Section 199 of the Pakistan Army Act, introduced by General Ayub Khan in 1952. This provision grants the Army Chief absolute authority to dismiss personnel without due legal process. In particular, Clause 11 and Clause 176 have been especially severe, leading to the arbitrary removal of countless officers over the years. This practice continues today, fostering a climate of insecurity among military personnel, who often perceive the Army Chief as an unquestionable authority.
As a result, many officers feel compelled to remain silent, even in the face of unconstitutional actions. This culture of fear and submission erodes the principles of justice and accountability within the institution. General Asim Munir appears to be no exception, with reports of authoritarian behaviour further deepening these concerns.
To bring real change to Pakistan’s system—where the Army dominates power dynamics, undermining democracy and obstructing the devolution of power at every step—Section 199 of the Pakistan Army Act must be abolished and replaced with appropriate legislation. Additionally, judicial oversight of the Army Chief’s decisions must be ensured in the Constitution of Pakistan.
The greatest fear I encountered in my discussions with senior military officers and their families—particularly among Brigadier Generals and above—is that of a “Colonels’ Revolution.” This fear stems from the prospects of losing their authority and benefits to their junior officers, in a constipatedly rank-conscious culture of the Pakistan Army. It is true that Colonels and lower-ranking officers are the most discontented, and furious over the current state of affairs. This group, which makes up more than 80% of the officer cadre, relies heavily on their moral standing and reputation for post-retirement opportunities. Maintaining the Army’s moral superiority and public image is crucial for them. However, under the current Army Chief—who, according to various surveys, is the most hated person in the country—this reputation has been severely tarnished. As a result, Colonels and lower-ranking officers feel aggrieved and increasingly desperate for change.
Despite this grim reality, history reminds us that there have always been “a few good men” in the Pakistan Army—those who have dared to stand up against tyranny. And it is in these men that our hope lies. After all, what is life worth living without hope?
