Iqrar Ul Hassan launches Awami Raaj Party — Now waiting for the Awam

TV host Iqrar Ul Hassan has launched the Awami Raaj Party, but questions remain over public support, electoral viability, and whether media fame can translate into political success.

Khul Kay Bol | By Imran Malik
Pakistan’s political marketplace has received yet another brand launch, this time from television’s most travelled man, Iqrar Ul Hassan, who has officially stepped out of the crime scene and into the crime… sorry, political scene.

The Awami Raaj Party was unveiled at the Lahore Press Club, because where else do political experiments begin if not among journalists who have seen enough launches to last several lifetimes. Balloons were metaphorical, slogans were ambitious, and the awam — curiously — was missing.

The first unanswered question is refreshingly basic:

Which constituency will Iqrar Ul Hassan contest from?
The second is even more brutal:
Can he win even that?

For weeks, social media audiences noticed a carefully curated anti-Khan narrative, seemingly designed to test political waters. Unfortunately for the planners, the launch felt less like a mass movement and more like a press conference that accidentally declared independence.

History, that unkind teacher, offers precedent. Singer Jawad Ahmed once launched the Musawaat Party with similar sincerity, similar passion, and identical results — a forfeited deposit and a polite exit. Pakistan’s politics, it turns out, is not a reality show where ratings guarantee votes.

Iqrar Ul Hassan Syed, already famous for his three marriages and relentless field reporting, now faces a tougher challenge: building a party without borrowed outrage, rented narratives, or studio lighting. Politics, unlike television, does not run on TRPs.

Without grassroots support, ideological clarity, or visible public demand, Awami Raaj risks becoming another entry in Pakistan’s long list of “well-intentioned announcements.”

For now, the party exists. The awam, however, remains unaccounted for.

Honestly, it might have worked better if Iqrar Ul Hassan had merged his party with Jawad Ahmed’s Musawaat Party. Two zero vote-banks combined could at least look like a starter pack. Who knows, maybe the deposits would survive this time.

Or better yet, imagine a Gen-Z Grand Alliance:

Iqrar Ul Hassan Syed, Shahid Afridi, Rajab Butt, and Ducky Bhai — united not by ideology, but by follower count. Throw in a hashtag, a podcast, a YouTube thumbnail and boom: Pakistan’s first algorithm-approved political movement. There’s even a faint hope that Gen Z might briefly glance away from Imran Khan’s PTI — briefly.

But politics, inconveniently, is not a collaboration video.

What made the whole episode more puzzling was the deadly seriousness of the launch. Dark suits, heavy speeches, grave faces — as if a revolution was being announced, not a party without visible workers, voters or weather-appropriate attendance.

The cold was unforgiving. The crowd matched the temperature.
Participants were as few as the talking points.

In Pakistan, parties are born either from movements, sacrifices, or public pressure. Launching one like a product demo — without demand — is risky. Very risky.

Still, time will tell. Politics has surprised us before.
But for now, Awami Raaj feels less like a movement and more like a trailer released before anyone asked for the movie.

And in Pakistan, elections are won by votes — not followers, hashtags, or prime-time fame.