If you cannot make any sense of the ongoing political situation in the country, do not despair because you are not alone. Even though the crisis that engulfed the capital a fortnight ago peaked last weekend, it is far from over. When Khan and Qadri directed the followers of their respective cults to move forward towards the Prime Minister’s House, the government finally put its foot down. What followed is condemnable but as the protestors found out much to their dismay, the democratic right to protest comes with its own limitations. From the very beginning, this charged atmosphere had huge potential for violence. Overlooking the repercussions of their actions, the protestors demanding the ouster of Prime Minister (PM) Nawaz Sharif have long ceased to pretend they want electoral reform or economic repair. For them and their commanding leaders, this kill is personal and always has been since day one. The fanatical rhetoric of Khan and Qadri has caught on like wildfire and their followers now hypnotically repeat the same tasteless vulgarisms. As I have previously written, both leaders boast of being the saviours we, as a nation, desperately seek but even though their claims may rightfully identify the ‘what’ that needs to be changed, the crucial ‘how’ part is sadly missing. Democracy is a frustratingly slow process and the protestors seemed to have forgotten that, no matter what their leaders tell them, there are absolutely no shortcuts towards this end. On the other hand, the blame also lies with the PML-N government for failing to gauge the political atmosphere. After the killings in Model Town, Imran Khan and Tahirul Qadri knew they would have decent support behind them but the fast-crumbling façade of the PML-N sandcastle must have caught them by surprise. By alienating the members and workers of his party, bleak service-delivery and by surrounding himself with advisors who are forbidden to even hint that the emperor’s robes might not be all that grandiose, the PM now is severely out of his depth. When he failed to engage the bevy of protestors outside the gates of parliament and instead met the military chief twice in almost as many days, the real locus of power in the country was made evident to observers. By further inviting the military to play a facilitative role in the crisis and making the public sympathise with the protestors after the use of force, the PML-N government, for all intents and purposes seems to have given up on its current mandate and probably desires political martyrdom to launch upbeat campaigns, political and otherwise, for the next election, provided there is one. As a result, tempers are flared now and emotions are running high. Senseless rhetoric and utter stupidity have cemented their place in the national discourse and political analysis itself has been reduced to a series of shouting matches. Anyone trying to discuss the crisis dispassionately is left reeling from the ensuing vulgarities. If the followers of PTI and PAT sense that you are critical of their leaders’ ways, be prepared for the standard shakedown: accusations of cowardice, personal insults, including the “you-do-not-get-it” dialogue and, lastly, warnings to be cautious of ending up on the wrong side of their ‘new’ Pakistan. Loyalties, friendships and even familial bonds have been tested in the prevalent political climate and found to be wanting. Interestingly, even though the script might have been revealed, the scriptwriter still lurks in the shadows. However, all writers, no matter how reclusive, itch for their works to be read, and so will be the case in the coming days. The nation awaits with bated breath (and closed shutters) for the big reveal since it takes a real craftsman to organically alter the narrative in such a way that the same youth protesting against the imposed emergency of a previous military ruler is now practically begging the same institution to be its saviour this time round. In such a scenario, one is left wondering whether the late night congress between the facilitators and the protestors last week was less of an actual negotiation and more like a celebration where the Trojan horses come alive and join in with the Greeks. There are no points for guessing which institution will fill the power vacuum created in the coming anarchic days but what legacy will this Punjab-centric ‘evolution’ leave behind for others? No matter who comes out to be the winner in the coming days, the real losers are going to be the Pakistani masses. The precedents in this regard do not augur well. After leading a successful movement against Ayub, Bhutto soon found out that the political ground shifts wildly in the midst of populist revolts. What moral high ground will the captain and the cleric take when someone else decides to lay siege upon the capital towards (even more) nefarious ends? We are still reeling from the concessions made in the 1970s and I am not too sure we will survive from the ones that are eventually made this time. Lastly, what lessons will the generation coming of political age in this cacophony take away from all this? That it is okay to follow a leader into oblivion? That it is alright to depose elected governments because of personal differences? That it is just to assume someone is guilty until proved innocent and hand out vigilante justice? Or that it is reasonable to sharply polarise the national discourse so as to leave no middle ground? Alas, I am yet to see anyone from the throng worry about such intricacies. Maybe, on the morning after the ‘revolution’, when the war drums are silent, the paeans are over, the praetorians have returned and Pakistan is still none the better, maybe then the true cost of this change will dawn upon us all. After working assiduously towards the promise of a free homeland, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, no stranger to revolutionary fervour himself, was left dejected to see Pakistan mutate into his worst of horrors because of selfish discord in the aftermath of partition, and penned this enlightening couplet: “Yeh daagh ujala, yeh shab ghazeeda sehar/ Woh intezaar tha jiska, yeh sehar woh tou nahi.” (This disfigured dawn, this night-bitten morning/ This is not the daybreak we longed for.) The author is a freelance columnist with degrees in political science and international relations