“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”
(Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities)
Parliament is dead.
In all instances, the state the political leaderships continue to let down the people of Pakistan. Like cowards, they left the scene before the state rained down mighty wrath upon the hopeful masses. Watching and gathering information in the age of information bans and disruption was difficult, but some brave journalists such as Asad Toor, Matiullah Jan et al were reporting from ground zeros – instead of the unending uninteresting opinions of studio warriors.
Direct conversations (via VPN) were brought to our phones, and we heard the families, men, women, elderly, children, from Hunza, Swat, Dir, Peshawar, and half a dozen KP districts, along with locals from Rawalpindi, Islamabad, and some from Mianwali, Faisalabad, and as far away from Azad Kashmir and Balochistan – all telling us why they came to Islamabad. We didn’t need interpreters. We heard them tell us directly what made them travel to Islamabad under dangerous conditions.
What we heard was that they wanted PTI leader Imran Khan, who has been incarcerated since May 2023, to be released, the mandate of the February 2024 elections to be restored and the 26th constitutional amendment to be rescinded.
What I read in-between and wrapped in these demands is that the protesting citizens want freedom from dispossession, poverty, wars, conflict and hopelessness. It is not a coincidence that the protestors primarily come from areas where conflict of every manifestation exists and is becoming more protracted.
Parliament is dead.
Sindh, glaringly absent from the national sea of protesters, watched as the others crawled towards Islamabad; traveling for days through an obstacle course laid out by the state using funds from three provincial budgets – against its own people.
Containers were placed, roads dug out, highways blocked, paramilitary Rangers and police from three provinces (deployed in aid of PDM government), including snipers, welcomed the citizens from three corners of Pakistan into the capital of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. This has become an unfortunately common sight in Islamabad, whether it be for PTM’s Manzoor Pashteen from the ex-FATA districts of KP, Dr Mahrang Baloch leading women from the far corners of Balochistan, or the PTI supporters from three corners of the federation. They all meet the same fate from the Permanent Powers.
Parliament is dead.
We witnessed a sea of people from many corners of Pakistan come to plead their case to change the priorities of a praetorian state in their favour. Many have come before them no doubt. And many will come after them. There is no doubt in my mind
Discussion of the ‘cost’ of what the KP government spent on bringing the PTI supporters to Islamabad is aplenty. Can we have an account of the funds spent by the federal government, Punjab government, Sindh government, and de-facto-occupied Balochistan governments also, please? All these resources were deployed to block, ban, fire upon, teargas, kill, threaten and push back tens of thousands of citizens exercising their right to protest. Islamabad, Lahore and all surrounding cities and towns found themselves locked out of work, schools, hospitals, travel, commerce, trade and online work.
Parliament is dead.
We have an illegitimate government backed by the Permanent Powers who remain in a bubble independent of the wishes of the people of Pakistan. For how long is this sustainable? The constitutional legal mechanism to adjudicate electoral disputes, the tribunals have been illegally suspended from their duties. Without determining who actually won the 8th February 2024 elections, we remain in a situation of parliamentary abeyance. What we have is an illegitimate parliament, an incomplete parliament without the constitutionally required members from reserved seats to reflect the totality of the federating citizens. This illegal parliament has seen it in its wisdom to pass an amendment to the constitution (the 26th) which effectively further disables the last vestiges of appealing to the judiciary for justice.
Parliament is dead.
In this context, we witnessed a sea of people from corners of Pakistan come to plead their case to change the priorities of a praetorian state in their favour. Many have come before them no doubt. And many will come after them. There is no doubt in my mind.
Citizens in anguish have choices: we always do. Continue the struggle for change or become part of the disintegration that is inevitable.
We see the fires of anguish burn in Kurram, and in far too many parts of Balochistan. And we see the signs in Punjab and Sindh too, now.
An overpopulated malnourished semi-literate disgruntled populace: where should they turn to? The premodern-inspired movements and mindsets are signs of an illness and anguish in mind and society. What avenues has the praetorian state left for the people to turn to? Parliament? The judiciary? What should they do?
Parliament is dead.
The loud voices in Pakistani discourse are focusing on the inane. Fiery premodern-style self-centred speeches atop containers, demanding undying loyalty where there was none from themselves, really isn’t inspiring. The lady behind the veil hasn’t won any brownie points with many quarters. And there are many quarters.
In her two main speeches, her use of religion as a tool of inspiring civil protest clearly cannot be the way forward, especially since it was focused towards only freeing Imran Khan rather than Pakistanis in general from the clutches of our praetorian state managers.
Most importantly, it might be argued that it is politically acceptable to be riling up citizens in deep distress from war, conflict, economic plight and social upheavals, and for them to remain steadfast for a sit-in protest – but when you sit with them too! From what I understand, KP chief minister Ali Amin Gandapur and the lady in the veil escaped first, leaving the sit-in folks to bear the lethal brunt of the state apparatus. This is cowardice in any language and in any era. “We do not fear our army, why should I fear my own brothers?” proved to be naïve last words for many.
There is deep respect for those in uniform who keep the nation safe, but no respect for those who harm citizens and act with impunity.
Parliament is dead.
The 26th of November is a date many will not forget. The PDM and its backers will smirk with glee as they used taxpayers’ monies to water-cannon, teargas, shoot and snipe to push back anti-government protesting citizens. For those who were merely watching on the sidelines, such as myself and millions of others in semi-safe spaces, what do you think their thoughts are today if not a mixture of disinterest, apathy, disgust and loathing? The embers remain on slow burn.
Pakistan is hurtling towards a situation similar to that of Myanmar, where the generals and their cohorts have no tolerance or interest in the welfare or the voices of the disenfranchised citizens. Human rights organisations in Pakistan remain silent. Statements on X and pressers in conference halls really do not cut it.
Parliament is dead.
The people need to mobilise safely and effectively within the state’s tattered constitution to regain some semblance of hope. There is a sad possibility of furthering the cleavages of provincialism as well, turning into something much more dangerous. We already speak in terms of how the Punjabis never turn up when the walking requires more than the talking. This time, the PTI’s “Final Call” was largely unheeded by Punjab, but there were pockets of individual groups who under dire circumstances managed to get through.
The real absence was from Sindh, where the leaders are far away, but who traditionally sit on the fences to remain the B-team of the Powers That Be. If people from Balochistan managed to come from an already strife-ridden part of the country with probably the most challenges to register their support for a federation in disarray, then it is a matter of shame for those closer to Islamabad who did not even try. Or maybe they live in harmony, away from the maddening reality of the rest?
The silence is deafening from the (fake) defenders of democracy and the Charter of Democracy coterie.
Parliament is dead.
“The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear,” as Nelson Mandela reminded us.