Between 1980 and 1995, Italy saw ten prime ministers take oath. They promised much, achieved little, and fell from grace just as quickly as they claimed the throne. The chaos that preceded it, and the consequences that became manifest during those years, led an observer to joke, “You go to London to see the changing of the guard; you go to Rome to see the changing of the government.”
Of the many sins we are guilty of as a nation, there is none as egregious, perhaps, as our belief in political messiahs. Flowing from the same is our conviction that it is individuals, and not systems, that effect change. History, of course, suggests otherwise.
When Miftah Ismail sahib announced the creation of a new party in these pages, this author believed in the sincerity of his words, the purity of his intent, and indeed his ability to diagnose and prognose Pakistan’s polycrisis. It makes it all the more unfortunate, then, that the system that may one day see his party rise to the fore, is the same system that will strangle his ability to change things for the better.
Consider. To bring about genuine change, a party must first secure power, which necessitates winning a majority in parliament. However, this majority is seldom achieved through pure democratic appeal. Instead, it requires compromising with 'electables,' placating influential figures, and avoiding policies that might provoke the establishment, interest groups, and the very men and women who make up one’s majority. In this uniquely Pakistani way, elections devolve into little more than an exercise in negotiation and appeasement, catering to the few at the expense of the many.
Each party furnishes essentially the same account – their rivals, naturally, are some combination of insincere, incompetent, or impotent, while they themselves are uniquely suited to ruling. Reality disagrees. Successive governments have failed to implement significant reforms in highly visible and electorally popular areas – taxing real estate, agriculture, and retail; cutting government expenditure; improving access to education; reducing sectarianism and combating militancy; improving ease of business; attracting foreign investment; reducing inequality and injustice; and so on.
Not one name in the ever-increasing list of ‘sincere and capable’ leaders has managed to accomplish this or even tried to put much effort into it.
Can we simply chalk this up to a failure of ability or intent? Or should we, instead, look at the formidable political and economic power wielded by those benefiting from the status quo? Both civilian and military administrations have historically refrained from antagonizing the ‘tajir’ community, whose capacity for mobilization and economic leverage intimidates even the most seasoned politicians. Of real estate and agriculture, the less said the better. Can change come when our legislators, and those who coronate them, are so deeply involved in these sectors that they would sooner break the country than hurt their bottom line?
Sectarianism, too, endures not merely by chance but because certain groups derive benefit from its persistence and actively perpetuate it – the mullahs are hard to tame, and their followers so very useful. Such fanatics bring a street power mainstream parties cannot bear the brunt of – a few thousand zealots can paralyze the nation's capital, disarm law enforcement, and bring the ruling party to its knees if given enough encouragement.
How do you reduce inequality or improve the administration of justice when the country's judiciary – understaffed, overworked, and badly trained – seems to have given up? When inarguably positive changes have been opposed tooth and nail by a lawyer community that has grown fat off of the inadequacies of the status quo, why would the government risk angering the black ties with broader reform? Even those in khaki, all but all-powerful and no strangers to using force, remain wary of incurring their wrath. It will not be our incompetence but our fear that sends justice to the gallows.
And then, of course, there is the trust deficit. The profound mistrust the populace harbours towards the government and the broader system is less a barrier and more a fortress – built carefully over time, well-guarded, and hidden behind for more than one reason. It will take more than speeches and advertisements and promises to scale such a thing, much less bring it down for good.
The truth of the matter is: this isn’t about Miftah and Shahid sahib, both of whom are honourable men, moved by a genuine desire to see our nation prosper. This isn’t about the myriad parties that have walked through the revolving door of power. This is about the Pakistani people, and the aggregate of their lives – their dreams, hopes and ambitions, their worries, fears and anxieties. The weight of two hundred and eighty million lives hangs around their neck. With each passing year, the noose tightens.
And if such honourable men were to pause, they might recognize that accomplishing their dreams demands something of them few have had the courage and willpower to realize: change, if it is to come, must begin within.
If the aim is to bring fundamental change to our political system, their party must overcome the weaknesses all its predecessors were born with. The question, then, is how one accomplishes such a thing.
A deeper dive into such a process is an issue for another piece, but the fundamentals are these: their party must have a firm, ideological framework, a robust, cadre-based structure, and an agile, responsive narrative. To date, parties have had some combination of these, but never all at the same time. The end goal remains the same – the party must become an institution unto itself, capable of insulating its decisions from external influence.
Napoleon, who oversaw the rise of a force that seemed all but insurmountable at one time, understood that it was not reality that would keep his army fighting. It was its romance with itself, of its myriad mythologies, fraudulent or real, and not objective reality or self-interest or the cold calculus of war, that sustained it.
As far as the public is concerned, we have always been ruled by dynastic monarchs or ad-hoc opportunists. Juxtaposed against such, an ideological framework not only clarifies the party’s base moorings but also distinguishes it from the morass of self-serving politics. Such a framework is not merely an exercise in rhetoric; it is the lifeblood of a movement striving to reform and reimagine Pakistan.
The backbone of the party must be a cadre-based system with a strong, localized presence in every neighbourhood and village. Suitable individuals should be scouted, trained by experienced members, and put in charge of local party activities. Full-time dedicated party workers should engage with constituents, understand their issues, and mobilize support effectively.
In forming village-level committees and leveraging technology for real-time communication and coordination, the party can promote grassroots democracy, enabling itself to act independently of external influences. This structure cannot exist without an internal meritocracy that constantly evaluates members' competence, valuing outcomes over mere output. By focusing on measurable results and demonstrated leadership, the party can oversee all levels of its structure – from union council to national – with skilled, sincere, and talented individuals.
Their party must remain in a constant state of mobilization. Central narratives and policy pushes should be reiterated from the top and echoed at all levels. Cadre members must meet regularly, discuss local concerns, submit reports upward, and engage in continuous outreach through digital and physical mediums. Leveraging mobile apps for rapid information dissemination, issue reporting, and coordination enables the sort of responsive agility our parties largely don’t possess yet desperately need.
Then, their party must mimic what is arguably the erstwhile ruler’s greatest success: creating a sense of ownership among voters and supporters. This can be achieved through regular consultations, participatory decision-making and execution, and transparent communication. By making supporters feel part of a movement rather than a party, and actively involving them in addressing their problems, the party can turn sympathy towards its ideas into dedication towards the movement.
Pakistan's history is replete with individuals seeking power through shortcuts, but these shortcuts are costly, unreliable, and guarantee failure. If good, honourable men wish to bring change, they cannot afford to delude themselves that the path already treaded will bring change. Rather, they must resolve to strike at the heart of the political inertia that has long impeded progress.
The writer is a student of law at King’s College London.
He can be reached at: salar.rashidkcl.ac.uk