LAHORE - It is a universally acknowledged truth that political revolutions in Pakistan are best launched after a hearty round of festivities. Be it Eid, Independence Day, Pakistan Day, or even the first snowfall in Murree, opposition parties have, for decades, perfected the art of scheduling their political battles only after the nation has fully digested its sheer khurma and biryani.
The Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) has once again announced plans to launch a “historic” protest movement—right after Ramadan and Eid, of course. This aligns perfectly with the time-honoured tradition of opposition parties whose political revolutions must wait until after a hearty feast. After all, how can one demand freedom from oppression on an empty stomach? There’s nothing quite as energising as a post-Eid political showdown, where protesters can march with full bellies and renewed vigor, albeit pausing occasionally for chai breaks.
So, the PTI’s strategy is nothing new. Over the years, every opposition party, when faced with the need for serious political action, has conveniently discovered the urgency of celebrating national and religious holidays before launching the movement. The PTI, ever the trendsetter, has been in protest mode since losing power in April 2022. It has held several rallies, marches, and dharnas, but the needle of change has remained as motionless as a traffic light in Lahore on a foggy morning. The establishment, the courts, and the powers-that-be have remained largely unperturbed, treating PTI’s protests with the same enthusiasm as a parent listening to their child’s demand for ice cream after dinner. “Yes, beta, soon.” Yet, the party refuses to give up.
It seems political agitation is much like a Pakistani wedding—delayed indefinitely for one reason or another. “Abbu is out of town.” “Khala is not well.” “We’ll do it after Muharram.” “We’ll definitely take to the streets, but not before August 14 because we must show patriotism first.” The cycle continues, and before you know it, another government completes its tenure. It’s not just the PTI as every major political party has used this tactic. When PML-N was in opposition, it too promised resistance after Muharram, after Eid, after winter, and sometimes, when necessary, after mango season. The PPP, on the other hand, is known for its poetic declarations of “Aaj nahi, magar kal zaroor” (Not today, but definitely tomorrow).
One might wonder: Why this peculiar obsession with post-holiday revolutions? Perhaps it’s the penchant for procrastination, or maybe it’s a way of ensuring that their supporters remain hopeful while they figure out the actual strategy. Or maybe, it’s an inside joke among politicians, a game of who-can-delay-their-protests-the-longest while keeping their base entertained. Political analysts, armed with cups of steaming tea, will now have a fresh round of debates on whether the “post-Eid protest” will be more successful than the “post-August 14 protest” or the “post-budget protest”. This provides endless hours of content, and by the time the actual protests are scheduled, a new political crisis will have taken over, and the cycle will begin anew. For now, Pakistan awaits PTI’s grand movement with bated breath. Will this be the protest that changes everything? Will Imran Khan be freed? Will democracy be restored to its full glory? Only time will tell. But one thing is certain—if history is any guide, the next big political agitation will be announced shortly— right after Eid-ul-Azha.