Plato’s theory of forms makes a clear distinction between what it holds are two parallel worlds – a world of forms (or original ideas) and a world of their material manifestation. The practical manifestation, says Plato, is a shadow or inferior copy of the original form. The original form or essence of something may have been perfect, but the same cannot be said of its material manifestation, which invariably falls short. Plato concludes that brining something from the realm of forms to the material world involves a degenertion of the form. Considering there is always going to be a substantial gap between the essence of things and their practical manifestations, I propose here to deal with the original form of Prime Minister Imran Khan’s political rhetoric regarding the ‘change’ he wished to bring about. For one thing, there is a patent gap between Mr Khan’s ideational change and its material manifestation. His detractors would say that even the (degenerate) practical manifestation of the ‘change’ has been degenerating. That, however, is a subject for another day. Mr Khan’s rhetoric of ‘change’ is an ideational complex of his political philosophy. It was perceived by his followers and supporters as a panacea for all Pakistan’s ills. Many, including some opposition leaders, appreciated Azam Swati’s removal from the cabinet after he was summoned by the Supreme Court. However, he is back in the cabinet although a judgement has yet to be passed in the case. So was Mr Khan right in excluding Swati from the cabinet or right in allowing his inclusion? It startred gaining large numbers of adhrents towards the start of the second decade of the 21st century and eventually became exceedingly influential among political activists in Pakistan. However, these activists were watching politics from a distance. They were also looking for some immediate relief which they believed an honest politician could deliver. They supported Mr Khan’s rhetoric of ‘change’ in the hope of holistically rooting out all the country’s problems, once and for all. Most of them might not have understood that politics is a complex and painfully resilient system. In what has come to be called the Old Pakistan, the promised ‘change’ was attractive. It charmed many. The restoration of the true spirit of democracy, strengthening of national institutions, depoliticizing of police, eradication of corruption, devolution of political power to the provinces, reinstatement of Pakistan’s enlightened image in the world, economic stability, opening of new vistas for trade, investment and employment were some of the themes in Khan’s ‘change’ highlighted by his supporters. After Mr Khan won the 2018 elections and took power, the ‘change’ underwent a definite shift. It became more complex and sometimes confusing. It would sometimes appear that Mr Khan’s own perception of the ‘change’ was of a deviation from his political agenda and public statements. Hence, the general impression that U-turns were indeed a policy. In today’s (Naya) Pakistan, the policy making echelon lacks a clear vision regarding the administration of the state. As such, the Naya Pakistan seems to have a lot more of the irregularities one did not like about the Old Pakistan. The suspension of police officer Rizwan Gondal and the ousting of the Islamabad Police IG came to symbolize the PTI government’s failure to live up to its talk of delivering an apolitical and independent police force by refusing to interfere in its administration. Many, including some opposition leaders, appreciated Azam Swati’s removal from the cabinet after he was summoned by the Supreme Court. However, he is back in the cabinet although a judgement has yet to be passed in the case. So was Mr Khan right in excluding Swati from the cabinet or right in allowing his inclusion? Before he formed the government, Mr Khan had been a great supporter of empowerment of the citizens and devolution of powers to provinces. Since acquiring power, however, his team has been calling for a roll-back of the 18th Amendment which is seen to have restored the true spirit of the 1973 Constitution. National institutions get stronger when power is repeatedly transferred democratically (through an electoral process). Historically, the deep state has not taken kindly to the parliamentary form of government and rere have been several interludes by military dictators. Today, Mr Khan and those he finds like-minded are again thinking of ways to centralize power. The ouster of Asad Umar, their first finance minister, has been a great blow not only to the government but also the credibility of the PTI leadership. Can the great stir in the cabinet be the starting point for those who dared go against the interests of the power elite? There is a great risk that economic instability will lead to political instability, that national institutions will not be found improving and that the ‘change’, exposed in a degenerte form, will lose all relevance. The writer is a freelancer