On the 12th of February earlier this year, just four days after the contentious elections, before the final counts had been announced and before the outlines of the incoming governments were known to anyone except the small circle of overlords and their cohorts, this author had written in this space that there were two choices left for the future of our country; either a soft coup or a bloody anarchy. It had then become apparent that with the guiding chronology of breakup of Pakistan in 1971, as the elections had taken place on the 8th of February 2024, a corresponding timeframe of reckoning would be the months of June this year and February in 2025. There was still time at that juncture to hear the resounding verdict of the people and redeem the lost hopes in the future of the country. The article carried a warning that not much time was left for the masses to decide whether their soft coup would be acceptable to the usurpers or that they would be forced to opt for a bloody anarchy.
Nine months down the line, after many lost chances to find an amenable peaceful solution, political positions have hardened, peaceful ways have been abandoned and the course of bloodshed has been adopted. It is apparent that mistakes were repeated: not only those of 1971, when the country was torn asunder under the watch of an egoistic junta, but also those of 1979, when another junta, fearing the wrath of a popular political leader, had the prime minister hanged after a sham judicial process. In both cases, brinkmanship had taken the nation over the precipice.
There have been questions whether the crowd could be stopped short of D-Chowk. This author spoke to numerous people who were present in the crowd that afternoon
A detachment of armed troops facing a peaceful but spirited crowd is invariably a loser. Confronted by a determined mass of protesting people, it is a scared entity because of ambivalence about whether to open fire or be overwhelmed. That detachment, led by a remotely located commander, knows that the crowd only wants to pass by, and even cheer them while doing so, but remains apprehensive of the disciplinary consequences of letting them go through against the orders issued to them, however illegal they may be. The detachment, consisting of lowest ranked operatives, doesn't realize – and indeed is too poorly educated or informed to appreciate – that the future of his nation rests, at that precarious moment, not on the high sounding words like parliament, cabinet or generals, but on his impulsive actions at that critical juncture when the first among the shouting crowd crosses their picket line. Nations are saved or destroyed in that millisecond when the finger on the trigger of a loaded gun either applies the pressure or exercises restraints.
Civilized and well governed nations, with patriotic leaders at the top, never let that moment of crisis arrive when the question of the survival of the nation slips from the hands of the leaders to the fingers of those who are led. These situations need leaders who have a stake in the survival of the country, who do not have safe sanctuaries in foreign lands and whose liquid and static assets lie within. But birds that are ready to take to flight after a good pecking session have no conscience to prick their sensibilities.
Now a little about the crisis coming to head on that fateful day of the 26th of November. There have been questions whether the crowd could be stopped short of D-Chowk. This author spoke to numerous people who were present in the crowd that afternoon, near where blood was spilled and a few hours before it was spilled. They all, without any exception, were primed on the idea of not stopping before reaching the D-Chowk. They had already crossed innumerable hurdles, not slept for two days, and walked or hitchhiked their way through container walls, teargas shelling, rubber bullets and excavated roads. They would have revolted against their own party at the idea of a sit-in anywhere other than the destination given to them by their leader before they started the march. The TV commentators, who continue to discuss the alternate options have no idea what the crowd was intent upon achieving.
When nations are led by myopic, populist, egoistic individuals, when leaders prefer personal victories over national interest and when egos take precedent over national good, results are always ominous and perilous. The honourable prime minister, in his public address to his cabinet, has claimed victory over the invading, however peaceful, crowd, and has distributed verbal medals to those who loyally stood between the protestors and his perch. A few lives were lost, on this side or the other, but they do not care about this loss or its consequences.
Photojournalism has come to define critical junctures in modern wars and civil unrests. A vulture awaiting the death of a starving child, the monk dying of self-immolation, the lonely youth standing before a line of tanks, a protesting student with open arms daring his would be assassin policeman to shoot, a Gazan little child-girl carrying her younger sister to safety and a policeman's knee on the neck of a dying man are images that define an era. Another image that of a praying man being pushed off the top of a triple-stacked container by a soldier has now been added to that list. If the claimed ethnicities, whether true or not, of the khaki-clad, armed and uniformed soldier and of the shalwar-qameez-clad protestor are added to the narrative, it becomes an irrevocable instance heralding a turning point.
It was said of the British nation during the Second World War that in every crisis they had faced in the previous thousand years since the days of William the Conqueror, it produced a leader capable of successfully steering them out of the challenge. The exact reverse is unfortunately true for Pakistan. At every critical juncture, we have unfailingly proved our detractors right by producing a misguided clique as our rulers. The mischief, therefore, is not in our stars, as we often lament; it is we who choose to follow misaligned galaxies.
There were wise heads warning us in 1970-71 of the coming disaster. This author’s Bengali classmates were telling us in 1970 – as they gleefully remind us now – that the federation would soon collapse. No one in position to avert the disaster paid heed. There are ominous signs of another fast approaching train wreck. There are friends across Attock who speak of gathering centrifugal forces threatening to overtake whatever reservoirs of goodwill that are left. There are only some days left of the PTM ultimatum for acceptance of their demands; issued in the presence of the chief minister of KP. When anger is ignored, it elevates fear and transforms into hatred. The day of violence in Islamabad did not create fear; it intensified hatred and accentuated the already visible schism lines. Unfortunately, no one is paying any heed.
There may still be some space left for us to recover from an irrecoverable loss. Will someone listen and act?