Fathoming PTI protest fiasco through the lens of history

There is an air of despondency among supporters of the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI). Imran Khan’s “Final Call” was meant to deliver a decisive victory against the current government, including forcing the release of Imran Khan from prison. Yet, the draconian measures — including suspension of internet and mobile services, “containerisation” of roads, mass arrests, and the ugly scenes of direct violence on the day of the dharna — displayed the efficiency of the counter-insurgency mechanism of the state, a skill inherited from colonial times. Combining state repression with the spectacular failure of PTI’s Punjab leadership to mobilise for the events meant that the much-hyped dharna petered out without changing the balance of forces on the country’s political landscape.

Nevertheless, passing impediments for protest movements cannot be equated with a permanent defeat. The fact that a large number of people were rallied, unnerving the government and putting the country to a halt, suggests that the status quo remains haunted by a crisis of legitimacy. Popularity alone, however, is insufficient in pushing back a neo-colonial state that has accumulated over two centuries of experience in crushing dissent. How can one think about the violent impasse in Pakistani politics without losing hope? Perhaps history can provide a few lessons as we strategise for the future.

Let us distinguish between two forms of mass protests: spontaneous and planned. The PTI’s march was in the latter category, where a political organisation gave a public call for action. On the other hand, spontaneous ones erupt on specific issues that trigger years of pent-up rage of the masses against the status quo. The Arab Spring was a classic example of a single trigger unleashing the wrath of the masses against authoritarian regimes across the region, a feat no political movement was able to achieve.

Yet, for spontaneous movements, a serious limitation arises on the question of how to proceed after the accomplishment of the immediate task (usually the resignation of the government). The lack of an organised base and the absence of a programme mean that such movements are far more successful in negating the status quo as compared to building an alternative in the aftermath of a fallen regime. Instead, groups that have an organised base in society often fill the vacuum left by the “ancien régime.” In the Arab world, it was the military and the clerics, and not the democrats, who filled this vacuum, often with generous aid from the US military (for example, in Libya).

The ability of the status quo to crush resistance and reproduce itself stems from the fact that modern states have an in-built mechanism for engaging in counter-insurgency measures against any threats. For instance, the anti-colonial movement in India, transformed into a mass force in 1919 after the Jallianwala Bagh Massacre in Amritsar. The colonial state lost its legitimacy as hundreds of thousands of Indians joined the cause under the twin banners of the Khilafat Movement and the Non-Cooperation Movement, propelling Mohandas Gandhi to global stardom. Yet, a vast, mobilised country could not defeat the occupiers who wielded guns and an iron discipline, leading to the collapse of the upsurge. It took nearly three decades from the Jallianwala Bagh Massacre before the British finally left the subcontinent, ending almost two centuries of colonial rule.

From anti-colonial to socialist to pro-democracy, all significant political movements have emphasised building mass organisations with internal discipline, ideological training of cadres, and support networks/alliances that go beyond the immediate circle of support for the group. In India’s case, the Congress Party, the Muslim League, the Communist Party, and a host of other organisations appeared on the political stage to mobilise the public around ideological lines. The spontaneous uprisings gave way to the hard labour of training cadres, writing manifestos, building alliances, and giving repeated calls for disobedience that eventually made governance impossible for the colonial state.

The impetus for organising mass organisations was the realisation that popular appeal was not enough to defeat the colonial machine, which was designed to crush any desire for freedom. Let’s take two more examples of great emancipatory struggles in the 20th century: the Russian and the Chinese Revolutions. In 1902, Vladimir Ilyich Lenin, the leader of the Russian Revolution, wrote his remarkable text called What is to be Done, in which he contrasted spontaneous and sporadic protests with campaigns led by a disciplined organisation made of trained cadres.

The latter, he believed, was necessary to prolong the struggle against capitalism, resist exhaustion or cooptation at the hands of the ruling classes, and build ideological clarity in the face of enemy propaganda. The failed uprising against the Tsar in 1905 confirmed Lenin’s thesis on the untenability of momentary outbursts of anger from the masses, as the demonstration of accumulated rage was followed by mass passivity. The necessity of organised politics became more obvious and reached a crescendo as Russia entered the First World War, a conflict that crippled the country’s economy and tore apart its social fabric.

The result of Lenin’s thesis was the formation of the Bolsheviks, a well-organised group of revolutionaries, determined to topple the reign the Tsar Nicholas II, bringing an end to the Romanov dynasty, and ushering in a socialist government. Despite being branded “traitors” by the Tsar during the World War I, the Bolsheviks continued to win over large sections of society through patient but consistent work among the downtrodden. The collapse of the Tsarist regime in February 1917, the failure of bourgeois parties to provide a legitimate alternative, and the revolts in the military made the status quo indefensible. On the other hand, the Bolsheviks, hardened by years of ideological and practical training, were prepared to strike the final blow, overthrowing the ancien régime with the “October Revolution” that paved the way for the formation of the Soviet Union.

The Chinese revolution, perhaps, was the most significant and successful anti-colonial revolution of the 20th century. In 1927, the Nationalist Kuomintang broke its alliance with the Communist Party and engaged in a brutal massacre of labour activists and communists in Shanghai. The Shanghai Massacre provided the impetus for the long-term rebuilding of the communist movement, including the formation of the People’s Liberation Army and the search for stable base areas for the Chinese Communist Party. This search, plus the brutal tactics of the Kuomintang, propelled the Long March led by Mao Zedong, an event now etched in the popular memory of the Global South.

Yet, when the Japanese forces invaded China, the same Mao made an incredible proposal: reunification with the Kuomintang to defeat the foreign invaders. His proposal was mocked by his enemies and was heavily criticised by his own comrades. Yet, Mao insisted that the “Principal Contradiction” had dramatically shifted after the Japanese invasion, since the very existence of the Chinese people was now at stake — an alarming situation that required the recreation of the United Front between Kuomintang and Communist forces. Mao’s wisdom prevailed, and a united front between all “Patriotic Forces” was able to inflict a historic defeat upon the mighty Japanese military, eventually paving the way for the Chinese Communist Revolution in 1949.

Returning to Pakistan, what lessons do these historical events contain for those yearning for democracy in our country? First, fighting the state is like fighting history itself, since the state is an expression of the accumulation of power of the ruling classes for decades, if not centuries. Thus, states do not automatically melt away when confronted with an insurgent population, since the state contains counter-insurgency mechanisms against such challenges. Consequently, movements require deep organisational and ideological work to transform momentary heroism into an enduring long-term struggle for social and political transformation.

Second, these examples show that no enmity or alliance is fixed in a long-term battle for change. Mao’s ability to view political antagonisms as “moving contradictions” allowed him to formulate the correct alliances that propelled his movement forward. Lenin, in his famous work titled Left-wing Communism: An Infantile Disorder, stressed how the forms of struggle continue to change, at times requiring a hardline position while on other occasions necessitating a compromise.

In each case, the decision is subordinated to the task of strengthening people’s unity and building a large coalition that can resist the counter-insurgency measures of the state. It means no single party can build hegemony without engaging with potential allies (or even opponents) as it confronts the ruling power. Firmness of principles and flexibility of tactics are both necessary in this fight.

Finally, the need for a sufficiently imagined idea of an alternative order is necessary to generate confidence in broad sections of the masses. In Pakistan, even people who support political parties tend to believe that their victory will not signal any systemic change. This pervasive cynicism can only be overcome through clear programmes and plans of action that can resonate with the masses beyond their admiration for specific individuals — a form of celebrity worship that has stalled political debate in the country over the past four decades.

As per the laws of history, the PTI, despite its immense popularity, is unable to dislodge the government on its own. Its own record in dealing with the establishment and refusal to speak to political parties generates little confidence among those who are sceptical of its claims of leading the fight for freedom. Yet, the dark shadows of authoritarianism produce an imperative for all those seeking an alternative to begin a dialogue for a long-term strategy that creates ideological clarity, programmatic coherence, and practical unity.

History shows that temporary setbacks, rather than undermining the struggle, can become a springboard for a higher stage of reorganisation for mass struggle. What lessons democratic forces draw from the current crisis will decide whether we will cynically accept a defaulting status quo as fate, or whether we will be able to chart a stronger path towards freedom. Victories are never guaranteed in such an endeavour, but as Brecht suggested, “Try again. Fail again. Fail better”!

Ammar Ali Jan is an activist, historian, and educator. He posts on X @ammaralijan

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