The Old Guard's Last Stand

A Revolution Is Inevitable in Pakistan

For over seven decades, Pakistan’s rulers have clutched onto their dusty playbook like a drowning man holding a brick. Fear, censorship, and hollow patriotism have been the weapons of choice, wielded against a population beaten into submission by poverty and propaganda. But here’s the newsflash they didn’t see coming: the youth have arrived, and they’re not just restless—they’re furious.

The old tools no longer work. The military’s shadow over civilian governance feels less like a shield and more like a guillotine. Religious slogans, once the opium of the masses, now fall flat in a country where inflation has robbed people of their daily bread. The cries of India is the enemy have grown stale to a generation that’s more interested in LollyBollyHollywood trending reels than age-old enmities. The game is up, and the players in power are too blind to see it.

Pakistan’s youth—nearly two-thirds of the population—don’t want to play by the rules written in the blood of their ancestors. They’re watching the world transform in real-time, and they’ve decided they’re done waiting for permission to catch up. This isn’t a generation that will kneel to aging generals or bow to corrupt dynasties. This is a generation that sees the glittering skylines of Dubai, the thriving economies of Vietnam and Turkey, and wonders, Why not us?

The answer to that question? Because the old guard refuses to let go. They cling to power with the tenacity of a dictator guarding their last bunker. But the youth are no longer asking, they’re demanding. And if their demands aren’t met, they’ll rip the system apart with their bare hands.

Make no mistake: Pakistan is a volcano on the brink of eruption. What’s coming won’t be a polite revolution, neatly packaged and delivered with diplomacy. No, this will be chaos unleashed—an inferno that will make other revolutions look like garden parties. When a population this young and this angry realizes that peaceful change is impossible, they will make violent change inevitable.

And when it happens, the streets will burn. It won’t be a battle of ideas but a raw, visceral uprising, fueled by decades of suppressed rage. The palaces of the elite will be stormed. The gates of power will fall. And the leaders who mocked the cries for reform will find themselves running, if they’re lucky enough to escape at all.

This won’t be a revolution of speeches and manifestos. It will be a revolution of fists and fire. The very foundations of Pakistan will be shaken to their core, as the youth tear through the rotten structures of a system that has done nothing but fail them. It won’t be led by polished politicians or idealists—it will be led by the streets, the hungry, the hopeless, and the enraged.

The irony is that the old guard has had every chance to stop this. They could have reformed. They could have evolved. Instead, they doubled down on the same tired tricks, thinking that the fear of the boot would keep the masses in check forever. But they underestimated the power of a generation that has nothing left to lose. They underestimated the anger of a people who’ve been robbed of their future.

Pakistan is on the edge of history, teetering between evolution and annihilation. The old guard thinks they can keep pretending, keep suppressing, keep surviving. But revolutions don’t ask for permission. And when this one comes, it won’t just change Pakistan, it will burn everything that came before it to ash.

The youth don’t care for the playbook. They’re not interested in compromises. They want a Pakistan that works, and if they have to drag the country kicking and screaming into the future, they will. The only question is how much blood will be spilled before the inevitable becomes reality.

If the old rulers think they’ve seen rebellion before, they’re in for a rude awakening. This won’t just be a revolution—it will be a reckoning. And when it’s over, the only thing left of the old Pakistan will be the ruins it stood on.