magine going to the only circus in town once every decade and realising what a wasted effort it was to seek momentary elation in an otherwise unexciting existence. The Pakistan emerging from the debris of the 1971 debacle remains one such spectacle. Was it fun before that? Hardly.

The political tale of civilian funambulism and martial absolutism is dictated by the desire of successive ringmasters to extract astounding performances from untrained equilibrists. Can the show go on indefinitely even as poster boys are capriciously picked and fielded in the hope that some of them will captivate the increasingly emaciated audiences with their somersaults and stunts? Someone seems to be still at work somewhere toying with the idea that if Zulfikar Ali Bhutto could be “taken care of” despite being the most popular political figure in the post-1971 setting, and if Nawaz Sharif could be consigned to the margins, then Imran Khan, too, could be dealt with by employing the tried and tested formulae. The transient jail could lead to permanent bail. If the intern-turned-leader agrees to lie low when advised, there is always a possibility that the powers that be once again allow his fleet to set sail.

This may or may not work; only time will tell.

The bigger question for now is: what to do with the leaderless Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf, the startling juggernaut that could hardly exist without its captain? Also, what will happen to the millions who saw a messiah in Imran Khan? Will they continue to follow the ragtag battalion wandering around as PTI commanders while their leader languishes in jail, metamorphosing into a faux-Mandela? The detectable electable gang vapourised after brief press talks following the May 9 tsunami. The party is now represented by below-par advocates, who could fade out if TV shows stop inviting and projecting them as its “leaders.”

Pakistan appeared to be evolving into a two-party system after Gen Zia perished in a mid-air blast. The Pakistan Peoples Party had resisted and survived the military dictator’s schemes for a decade before it was confronted by a Punjabi politician supported by the establishment to restrict the PPP to Sindh. However, the challenge meant to counter the PPP eventually became a challenge for the establishment. While the establishment enjoyed the brawl between Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif, Pakistan drifted into a situation similar to the one predicted two centuries ago by John Adams, the second US president. Describing the evolution of a two-party political system in the United States, he had said: “There is nothing which I dread so much as a division of the republic into two great parties, each arranged under its leader, and concerting measures in opposition to each other. This, in my humble apprehension, is to be dreaded and the greatest political evil under our Constitution.”

By mid 1990s, the prodigies of the establishment were back to work. This time they wanted another Punjabi kraken to challenge the empowered Punjabi politician who was refusing to follow the script he had been handed. The project was still at an early stage when Pervez Musharraf arrived on the scene. The rest is known to most students of Pakistani history and politics. The country is once again facing the dilemmas it has confronted many a time since the 1970s.

Today, Pakistan is perilously close to a political vortex. No nuclear-armed state is as unstable and impoverished as Pakistan is. The recent elections have raised uncomfortable questions. Two political parties, whose leaders have been demonised for decades, have been allowed to form a government at the Centre and in three of the four provinces. The economy is in a shambles and public trust in the system is depleting fast.

With Imran Khan behind the bars, his party’s future seems bleak. There are signs that his current colleagues will be ready to work with the establishment should there exist a similar desire on the other side. As a 19th Century British politician and prime minister, Benjamin Disraeli, once said: “There is no act of treachery or meanness of which a political party is not capable; for in politics, there is no honour.” The current PTI leadership does not seem to have any political programme. The sole strategy revolves around the idea of regular meetings with the leader when he attends court cases within the prison walls.

The politics nowadays is pursued mostly through TV shows and social media platforms. The chances of street agitation have diminished. PTI’s current standard bearers do not come across as “fighters.” Those in the parliament can make a noise but will not dare confront the established order unless ordered to do so by their incarcerated leader. Is that likely? Not unless he gets a green light from somewhere.

Pro-Imran Khan social media influencers, many of them settled abroad, have started predicting a change in PTI’s fortunes if Donald Trump wins the next presidential election in the United States. One reason for such ‘optimism’ is their total disillusionment with those currently leading the party’s limp crawl. The alternative opinion does not see a hope for Imran Khan or the PTI as long as the present leadership of the establishment is in place.

The reality remains that Imran Khan’s best hope lies with the millions of young Pakistanis who do not see themselves supporting any other political force. There lies the weakness of Pakistan’s political landscape: personalities matter more than parties.

The writer is resident editor of The News in Islamabad