A video circulated recently depicts residents of Chungi Amir Sadhu area in Lahore coming together at intersections to chant “Lockdown murdabad”. A video from another intersection in Lahore shows worried parents crying, “Rations chahiye bachon ke liye. Ghar mein khana khatam ho gaya, paisa nahi hai aur bachay ro rahay hain”. (We need rations for our kids. There is no food at our home and no money and the children are crying).

With borders hardening, payment of salaries grinding to a halt, access to life-sustaining food and medicine becoming impossible for many and a pandemic sweeping the globe, what seems like a bad dream, or bad movie, is becoming a harsh reality for a growing segment of the global population. Cutting across multiple serious social, ecological, economic and political contradictions and crises, the coronavirus is the spark for an extreme societal unfolding, giving us glimpses into possible futures, some of those more frightening than others.

The corona context is ripe with the beautiful clichéd reality of people coming together in the face of adversity and demonstrating their humanity. Yet, as frontline medical workers knowingly risk their lives in the hopes that their labor of love will grant others a lease on dignity and life, many of them lack the necessary protective gear to reduce transmission of Covid-19. Over a dozen doctors have contracted the coronavirus in Balochistan and 67 doctors protesting for PPE were beaten up and arrested by the police on Monday.

Frontline medical professionals in USA, Greece, India and Sudan are also being forced to protest to demand that their governments and private hospitals immediately provide masks, gloves and other necessary equipment to prevent the transmission of the virus to them, their families, others in the hospitals and in their communities.

Given this widespread lack of preparation and the governments’ refusal to invest in rapidly scaling up the supply and distribution of necessary equipment for doctors, accounts are surfacing in many parts of the of elderly, immune-compromised and poor patients having to accept that their lives are deemed less worthy of saving than those of younger, healthier or wealthier patients.

The fear, confusion and chaos brought about with the reconfiguration of life in indefinite quarantine for much of the population, and high-risk, high-stress work for the rest, produces the perfect incubation sites for experimenting with different methods of extracting more value out of increasingly vulnerable people.

Recent national ‘relief packages’ announced in many countries are full of giveaways to banks and companies, like Trump’s programme of direct investments and tax breaks, direct funds for public-private partnerships with MNCs producing materials related to healthcare, national security and surveillance technology. In Pakistan, Imran Khan’s government is giving funds and tax concessions to tycoons controlling the construction industry, while failing to push forward redistributive measures that can ensure adequate food supplies for the vulnerable. In countries that prioritize neoliberal policies, this corporate welfarism far outweighs the pittance being provided for healthcare and community safety nets on many orders of magnitude, as a large segment of the working class begins to face hunger, exposure to the virus and increasing militarization.

Under the corona quarantine, many working-class ghettos, already subject to state harassment and regimentation of movement, have been effectively sealed off. For example, residents of the densely-populated Charrar Pind, a working-class neighbourhood situated in DHA that largely provides domestic labour to elite homes, illustrates Lahore’s existing state of apartheid. Pre-existing checkpoints at entrances to the slum are now enforcing curfews on the population, preventing volunteers delivering much-needed food aid from crossing in and residents from exiting an area after 3pm. The slum is thus increasingly resembling an open-air jail.

Such state excesses during the quarantine are fast becoming the norm, with physical violence and other forms of abuse levelled against those who leave crowded homes seeking help in getting medical attention, nutritional assistance or other forms of social support. Even prior to the growing possibility of mass food riots, a steady inflow of reports and videos, from the US to India, show predominantly working-class men (often from ethnic or religious minorities) being humiliated, beaten and brutalized by the police for daring to walk down the street for any reason. The first Covid-19-related murder occurred in the Philippines this week following authoritarian President Duterte’s directive to the police and military forces that “if anyone creates trouble, and [health workers’] lives are in danger: shoot them dead”.

It is becoming clear to all that certain duties of care cannot be left to the market in times of crisis, the responsibility for preventing mass starvation and spread of the pandemic lies with the state.

Even though these quarantine measures are often meant to make everyone safer, a rise in domestic violence is being reported in countries around the world, fuelled likely by the economic insecurity and extreme uncertainty about the future. The Bangladesh National Women Lawyers’ Association has reported a sharp rise in reported rape last month, while Amna Asif of online counselling platform ReliveNow has reported a rise in anxiety and depression and suicidal ideation in Pakistan. The concern for women and children vulnerable to abuse at home, with no way of escaping the perpetrator, resulted in the Ministry of Human Rights circulating the 1099 emergency hotline for victims. Yet it remains difficult for victims to call when the abuser occupies the same space and cannot leave, particularly in small, crowded homes, further adding to the misery of people already vulnerable, hungry and afraid.

The growing abuse of state and corporate power renders the pre-corona state of apartheid a quickly fading memory of ‘better times’. An intensification of multiple forms of state violence in much of the world marks the present moment. The systematic denial of safe living and working conditions, access to 21st century healthcare, and an ample supply of quality food to entire populations was only possible by convincing people that the deficiency is their own and that with enough training and hard work, anyone can work to gain social mobility and a better life for their families.

In the new state of crisis this myth has been rendered complete fiction. It is becoming clear to all that certain duties of care cannot be left to the market in times of crisis, and that irrespective of one’s inability to gain social mobility, the responsibility to prevent mass starvation and spread of the pandemic lies with the state.

The question that confronts us today is whether we shall totter toward authoritarianism, patriarchy and racist lifeboat ethics, or the people will chart a path forward according to the principles of dignity, democracy, solidarity and justice. The latter will require building communities of care embedded in a landscape of people’s sovereignty. When we affirm our solidarity with one another on the basis of shared humanity and regardless of differences, we recognize that we all have essential roles to play in looking after one another.