The curious case of Lifetime Everything!

Raju Korti
I have always been fascinated by humanity’s incurable obsession with the word “lifetime”. Lifetime achievement, lifetime immunity, lifetime appointment, lifetime access, lifetime this and lifetime that. Say it slowly and it sounds less like a concept and more like a lucky charm sold at a traffic signal. Wear it, wave it, and hope mortality looks the other way.

The latest reminder comes from Pakistan’s 27th Constitutional Amendment of 2025. In one masterstroke, power is centralised, the Supreme Court is brusquely nudged aside, and the Army Chief is elevated to a position that comes with lifetime status, immunity and sweeping control over all armed services. It is as if the nation collectively decided that if something must be permanent, it should be authority. Democracy, accountability and judicial independence can manage with a renewable plan.

It is amusing how eagerly we distribute permanence in a world that refuses to guarantee tomorrow morning. Life itself has a shelf life, strictly non-negotiable, yet we behave as if a constitutional clause or a citation can outwit biology.

Centurion for a lifetime: Yours Truly!

The value of these lifetime honours is worth examining. A lifetime achievement award, for instance, often arrives at a stage when the recipient’s knees creak louder than their accomplishments are remembered. It is less a celebration and more a ceremonial closing time announcement. Thank you for your services, please collect your plaque, and kindly vacate the stage before memory does it for you.

Lifetime immunity is even more entertaining. It assumes that power, once granted, will be exercised with monk like restraint forever. History suggests otherwise. Immunity does not improve character; it merely removes consequences. It emboldens the worst instincts while politely informing accountability to wait outside.

Then there are lifetime appointments. These rest on the touching belief that wisdom, integrity and relevance age like fine wine. In reality, some age like milk left out in the sun. Institutions stagnate, fresh thinking is locked out, and loyalty to the chair replaces loyalty to the Constitution or the organisation.

What fascinates me most is the psychological comfort these lifetime labels provide. They are talismans against insecurity. When leaders fear the uncertainty of public approval or legal scrutiny, they reach for permanence. Lifetime is not about honour; it is about insulation. It is a padded cell for power.

In Pakistan’s case, the lifetime elevation of the Army Chief into a supreme military role is less about efficiency and more about entrenchment. It sends out a clear message. Power is not to be questioned, rotated or reviewed. It is to be preserved, preferably forever, or at least until nature intervenes.

The irony is brutal. No amendment, award or immunity clause has ever stopped time. Empires crumble, statues are pulled down, and lifetime honours end up as footnotes, sometimes embarrassing ones, in history books. What survives is not the duration of power but the quality of its use.

Perhaps we should retire the word “lifetime” altogether. Replace it with something more honest, like “for as long as it works” or “until reality kicks in”. Life, after all, is the only entity that truly understands the concept of lifetime. And it has never offered immunity to anyone.