It has been more than a month now and the protestors are going nowhere. While Khan and Qadri may mourn overflawed presumptions and broken promises as they deliver their venomous rhetoric atop Mount Container, the sheer longevity of the protest has struck a deep chord with even the more sceptical sectors of Pakistani society. After all, while the revolutionaries may postpone thinking about how to actually bring about reform, they are exceptionally clear on what the aim should be: transparency and accountability. The current regime might just save its neck this time round, courtesy the restraint shown by those who in the past have lacked any. However, while the crisis might end one day, and with it the opportunities for taking Vogue selfies, one huge problem will remain. After decades of having a complex relationship, the Pakistani state and society are about to call it quits, a recent manifestation of which can be seen on prime time television. Not to put too fine a point on it, society has always had a bit of a tortuous rapport with the state. The potential for inducing change in the other is manifest in both entities and, over the years, the nature of their relationship has evolved, sometimes even violently. Whereas previously, society, through compromise and consensus, sought to mould the state as it saw fit, it nevertheless has, in recent times, seen the balance of power shift towards the latter. With its ever-expansive inventory of control mechanisms, the state has generally come to enjoy a broader jurisdiction over society’s affairs in recent times. Whereas the existing society paved the way for the state to flourish in most developed countries, the Pakistani state, as in the other post-colonial nations, came first, having a significant impact on the development of the subsequently engineered society. As M Abdul Qadeer shows in his book Pakistan: Social and Cultural Transformations in a Muslim Nation (2011), we can trace back the contributions of the state towards social development and cultural change in Pakistan. Despite being a multi-ethnic, multi-linguistic and multi-religious entity from the beginning, Pakistan has been run on a unitary and centrist model that has led to political instability, national disunity and ethnic strife. Furthermore, the not-so-sporadic military coups have corresponded to tremors in the traditional state-society power structure, with the state and society enjoying periods of relative influence over each other in different eras. The issue is compounded by the fact that while Pakistan has seen some socio-economic improvements, the country’s politics are still mired in traditional structures, and only add to the grievances of the young and old alike. Interestingly though, while the Pakistani state has become more controlling over time, its capacity to manage society has been greatly diminished. Society’s fabric is coming loose at the edges due to the opposing pressures of modernisation and traditionalism, and the growing frustration of the people coming of age in times of mobility only add to this. However, why must we be worried about anything? We should be because the key to a promising future (or otherwise) is buried somewhere in there. The liberal-democratic tradition tells us to be wary of the ever-invasive state. Modern societies are all too aware of the corrupting effects of centralised power, where institutions are built around the ideas of transparency and accountability, and have restrictions placed on their authority to overcome this issue. However, in developing countries like Pakistan, we need first to create governing authority because the state is perhaps the sole institution capable of promoting social change and cultural transformation at such a broad level. Our own colonial experience prevents us from trusting the state too much. Our first encounter with modern democracy, after all, was under colonial rule and that has adulterated the notion for us to some extent; deep down, we still consider it a foreign idea, and treat it as such. Furthermore, Pakistanis have this tendency to be vehemently anti-state, no matter which political party is in power. If the much-touted revolution comes about one day, we will all too soon find out that people who complain about one government find even better ways to whine about a different one too. And herein lies the catch. On the one hand, the state is deemed bad, evil, broken, corrupt, dishonest, deceitful, elitist, nepotistic and hypocritical. While we do not trust the state or its infrastructure one bit, it is the only institution capable of exercising governing authority and, henceforth, is the target of all our demands. But how does it work out? It works out exactly the way it is working out in Pakistan right now. Is there a road broken in front of your house? The state should fix it. Feeling sick? The state should provide healthcare. Want to study? Free education must be offered by the state. Security? The state’s responsibility. Keeping inflation in check? The state’s work. If contradictions were to ever find themselves in need of flourishing grounds, they would surely find a welcome abode here. In the past, the state has been somewhat able to provide basic services to a sizeable portion of the urban populace at least. But now, in the face of mounting governance challenges, this capacity is waning. Moreover, without a consensus on the limits of the state’s power, we are caught in a whirlpool of clashing ideologies and dysfunctional governance. With no long-term solutions in sight, we find solace in stopgap proxies and momentary workarounds, and pin delusional hopes on revolutions. However, one day, this too will not be enough. One day, people might just be willing to give the benefit of the doubt to those who may not deserve it. I fear that day. Meanwhile, the protests go on. The author is a freelance columnist with degrees in political science and international relations