By Ahadul Karim Khan

Revolutions are romanticized in history, often portrayed as the climax of an oppressed people’s struggle for justice. The reality, however, is far more complex. A revolution is not just the overthrow of a regime; it is the destruction of an existing system -- good or bad -- and the birth of something new. 

But birth is painful, and in its early stages, a newborn system is weak, vulnerable, and often chaotic. This chaos is inevitable, yet it is also the true test of a nation’s patience and tolerance.

The world has witnessed countless uprisings, each followed by a period of disorder. The French Revolution of 1789, with its ideals of “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity,” quickly descended into the bloodshed of the Reign of Terror. The Russian Revolution of 1917 replaced the autocratic Romanovs with a Bolshevik regime that itself resorted to brutal purges. The Arab Spring brought down decades-old dictatorships but left many nations in turmoil, some still struggling to regain stability. 

Revolutions rarely end at the moment of victory; rather, their true impact is determined by what follows.

A new dawn or a moment of uncertainty?

Bangladesh has recently witnessed its own form of mass uprising -- one that will be remembered in history as the “July Revolution” which has shaken the existing power structure, and now the country finds itself in an uncertain phase. 

A system that had been in place for years -- flawed yet familiar -- has been uprooted, leaving behind a void. People have habits, routines, and expectations tied to the old order, and its sudden collapse creates a psychological and administrative vacuum. In such moments, anarchy is a natural consequence, not because people desire chaos, but because the rules governing their lives have yet to be rewritten.

History teaches us that this period of uncertainty is unavoidable. However, what truly determines the fate of a nation is how its people respond to it. Do they react with frustration and violence, worsening the instability? Or do they exercise patience, allowing time for a new system to take shape?

The path from chaos to stability

In post-revolutionary France, the fall of King Louis XVI and the rise of the Jacobins did not bring immediate peace. Instead, paranoia and radicalism led to the infamous guillotine executions. But France eventually stabilized under Napoleon Bonaparte, who restored order and institutionalized the revolution’s ideals in a structured way.

A more recent example can be found in South Africa, where apartheid’s fall in the 1990s could have led to civil war. Instead, Nelson Mandela’s call for patience and reconciliation helped steer the country away from anarchy. The transition was not smooth, but Mandela understood that real change takes time and that revenge only prolongs suffering.

Bangladesh, too, must choose its path. Will the nation fall into further instability, or will it exercise patience and tolerance to allow a new system to develop? The answer to this question will define the next chapter of our history.

Leadership, a crucial factor in post-revolution stability

Leadership plays a crucial role in stabilizing a country after upheaval. The ability to maintain order, reassure the population, and gradually rebuild institutions determines whether a revolution succeeds in the long run.

Take George Washington, for example. After leading the American Revolution, he resisted the temptation of absolute power, ensuring the creation of a stable democratic government. In contrast, the Bolsheviks, under Lenin and later Stalin, resorted to ruthless suppression, prolonging suffering rather than healing wounds.

In Bangladesh’s case, leadership at all levels -- political, social, and intellectual -- must emphasize patience. A new system cannot be built overnight. The expectation of immediate perfection is unrealistic. Constructive patience does not mean passivity; it means channeling energy into sustainable change rather than reckless action.

The philosophy of patience

The concept of patience has been explored extensively in philosophy, religion, and political theory. Ancient Stoic philosophers, such as Seneca and Marcus Aurelius, emphasized endurance in the face of adversity. They argued that suffering and disorder are inevitable, but the wise person remains steadfast, knowing that hardship is only temporary. 

In Islamic philosophy, patience (Sabr) is regarded as one of the greatest virtues, a trait that distinguishes the strong from the weak. The words of Hazrat Ali (RA) ring true: “Even if it takes a long time, the patient do not lose victory.”

This is not to suggest passivity. True patience is not about accepting injustice or resigning oneself to suffering. Rather, it is about maintaining resilience in times of difficulty, not allowing frustration to cloud judgment, and working persistently towards long-term goals. A hasty, impulsive reaction to chaos can often lead to further destruction rather than resolution.

The silent power of the common people

While leadership is crucial, history has shown that the true strength of any society lies in its people. In moments of chaos, it is often ordinary citizens who either restore order or allow destruction to spread.

In Japan after World War II, despite the devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Japanese people did not descend into anarchy. Instead, they focused on rebuilding, demonstrating extraordinary patience and discipline. Today, Japan stands as one of the most advanced nations in the world.

Even in the face of economic hardships, social unrest, and political uncertainty, Bangladesh’s people have historically shown resilience. Whether during the Liberation War of 1971 or the struggle for democracy in the 1990s, the people have endured. This endurance is their greatest asset.

The test of a nation’s maturity

Every revolution, every uprising, and every political transformation brings with it a test -- not just for leaders but for the people. Will they succumb to impatience and frustration, allowing chaos to rule? Or will they exercise the patience necessary for real progress?

The collapse of an old system, no matter how flawed, leaves behind uncertainty. But uncertainty is not a void; it is an opportunity. Patience and tolerance are not signs of weakness; they are the foundations of lasting strength.

If Bangladesh can navigate this moment with wisdom, restraint, and faith in the process of rebuilding, then true change will come -- not in a moment of fiery revolution, but in the steady, determined march toward a better future.

A revolution’s success is not measured by the fall of a regime, but by what replaces it. The choice now lies with Bangladesh’s people. Will they choose chaos, or will they choose patience?

Dhaka Tribune