We are witnessing the power of mass, leaderless, political protests

Since 2010, more than 60 protest movements have erupted against ruling governments across the world. Unplanned and unorganised protests, quintessentially urban, were initiated by the Arab Spring in 2010-2011, when popular movements fought corruption and arbitrary policies. The second wave of protests commenced in 2019 and spread across the world.

In recent days we witnessed a spectacular and colourful uprising in South Korea. On December 3, South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol declared martial law. The decision was profoundly ill-considered and ill-fated. It lasted hardly six hours. More significantly the announcement sparked off outrage in an already restive and angry people. They continue, till today, to demand that the president resign, or be impeached. This magnificent show of popular protest made headlines across the world.

These headlines changed rapidly because the National Assembly voted against the declaration of martial law. Yoon has hardly been seen in public since then, but he has not yet resigned, though he survived an impeachment vote in the Assembly.

In South Korea, what we generically call the State, is nothing but a power vacuum. No one has the constitutional authority to take vital decisions. Society continues to be in an uproar, economic decline is in the offing, doctors are on strike, and unions have threatened to strike work unless the president resigns.

The Syrian case of an armed non-state militia toppling a government on December 8 is familiar. The 20th century is full of such examples. In the 21st century, a new form of protest has taken over the world: leaderless movements agitating for the resignation of the ruling government.

On July 9, 2022, crowds of Sri Lankans stormed the presidential palace and offices of President Gotabaya Rajapaksa, and the office of Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe, braving police and security forces. This followed months of agitation against a government that had failed to tackle a major economic crisis and livelihood issues. The protest movement culminated in the storming of corridors of power on July 9, and compelled Gotabaya to resign. He fled the country. The prime minister resigned. Since then, elections have been held in Sri Lanka, and brought to power a radical group of intellectuals and activists.

In August, Sheikh Hasina, serving a fifth term as Prime Minister of Bangladesh, had to similarly flee her country, and request India for sanctuary to escape the anger of the people. Thousands of mainly university students had been demonstrating against her authoritarian rule. They forced her to resign. She had ordered troops to fire upon agitating students. Reportedly 1,500 have died in protests to oust Hasina.

Mass protests, since the Arab Spring (except for Syria where the Bashar al-Assad government was overthrown by armed rebels on December 8) are leaderless. We witness the awesome spectacle of masses without leaders, or hierarchical command structures spontaneously coming together in shared spaces to fight for their rights against despots. Leaderless movements are, of course, not new. No one remembers who had led the storming of the Bastille on July 14, 1789, in France. Leaders of the revolution, among whom were Georges Danton and Maximilien Robespierre, emerged later onto the horizon.

Twenty-first century protests across the world are distinct from the ideological battles of the 20th century. They are episodic, unplanned, and unstructured. They do not have alternate agendas. They are inspired to protest against incompetent, inefficient, and unresponsive governments, economic distress, inequality, and corruption. The trigger can be election fraud, poverty, unemployment, repression, and a rise in prices/inflation.

These protests do not aim to culminate in a revolution that will bring about institutional change and political transformation. Nor do protesters wish to patiently and laboriously disseminate ideologies of revolution in society: mobilise masses, build up cadre, and organise rural peasants and the urban working class to launch a movement with clearly defined strategies and ideals.

Mainly led by young people, these protests have surprised everyone by their political passion and their innovation. They have little understanding of institution building or specific goals, beyond a rejection of existing elites and power structures. The objective is to force elites that fail to heed the people to listen to their voices. They come prepared, in the Gandhian sense, to be arrested and penalised. This does not prevent them from exercising moral judgement that there are certain things that must not be done to people.

William Shakespeare’s plays, writes Stephen Greenblatt in Tyrants, probe the psychological mechanisms that lead a nation to abandon its ideals and even its self-interest. “Why would anyone, he asks himself, be drawn to a leader manifestly unsuited to govern, someone dangerously impulsive or viciously conniving or indifferent to the truth? Why, in some circumstances, does evidence of mendacity, crudeness, or cruelty serve not as a fatal disadvantage but as an allure, attracting ardent followers? Why do otherwise proud respecting people submit to the sheer effrontery of the tyrant, his sense that he can get away with saying and doing anything he likes, his spectacular indecency?”

Greenblatt suggests that these troublesome questions were at the heart of Shakespeare’s political plays. They hold resonance for us today; authoritarian rulers have taken over substantial parts of the world. We must, however, remember that absolute power sparks off protests.

(Neera Chandhoke is former professor of political science, Delhi University. X: @ChandhokeNeera.)

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.