Supporters of Imran Khan start march on locked-down Islamabad as reflected on by Rev. Dr. Evelyn DuBois
From the pulpit of Bethel, I observe sanctuary pews, worn smooth by generations of seekers. This teaches me that marching feet carry the rhythm of human history. I read about thousands setting out across Pakistan for a locked-down capital. They risk batons, tear gas, and barbed wire. They cry out against the silencing of their chosen voice. My spirit recognizes the tremor in the earth; this mirrors the **march on Islamabad**. Power relying on shipping containers, severed communications, and barricaded highways truly fears its own people. This familiar, weary spectacle shows state machinery trying to hold back the morning with a handful of padlocks.
Our own tradition knows the sacred anatomy of the road. The children of Israel stood before the churning Red Sea. Pharaoh’s chariots hemmed them in. Moses delivered a clear word: go forward. He did not say to negotiate surrender or build an altar of despair. Centuries later, our forebears took to dusty Alabama highways between Selma and Montgomery. They knew every bridge might hold a beating. Yet, they marched anyway. An unexercised dignity quickly turns to ash in the soul. The impulse to gather, link arms, and head toward the seat of judgment is an ancient, holy reflex against systemic disenfranchisement.
The Sacred Anatomy of a March on Islamabad
State authorities insist order must prevail. However, our elders taught us that forced quietness is not peace. True peace, what the prophets called shalom, represents the presence of justice. It is not simply the suppression of protest. When governments silence the ballot box, they imprison political opponents. They also bar the public square. Consequently, they tear the fragile moral fabric that holds a commonwealth together. A locked-down city is not a monument to strength; it confesses moral insolvency. You cannot govern a people indefinitely by declaring their collective presence illegal.
My heart turns especially to the mothers, sisters, and young people. They form the backbone of these convoys. They carry food wrapped in cloth. They nurse the stinging eyes of their comrades. Furthermore, they shield the young from baton charges. Maternal strength serves as the unseen anchor in every struggle for democratic breath. The mother refuses to let her child inherit a muted future. She packs the provisions. She kneels in prayer while tear gas settles over the highway. Their courage exposes the hollow pretense of strongmen. These strongmen only answer civic yearning with detention and concrete roadblocks.
Defiance and the Highway of Righteousness
Yet, even in the heat of righteous grievance, we who follow the prophetic path must wrestle with political messianism’s perils. In the Black Church, we revere our champions who led us out of the wilderness. However, we also know that mortal leaders are vessels of clay, not saviors. Popular movements risk losing sight of the deeper, enduring covenant when they bind their soul entirely to a single charismatic figure. This covenant involves the liberation and welfare of the humblest citizen. The test of any march is not merely whether it frees a leader from a cell. Instead, it asks whether it dismantles the systemic machinery that builds cells for the dissent of ordinary folk.
Still, profound grace exists in the defiance itself. Water cannons, detentions, and official decrees demand submission. Despite this, those marching through Khyber Pakhtunkhwa decided their voices will not be erased by decree. That decision alone acts as praise. It refuses to bow before the idols of state supremacy. It affirms that authority flows upward from the dignity God planted in human souls. It does not flow downward from the iron gates of an armed citadel. We hold those travelers in our prayers as dusk falls over the road to Islamabad. We pray for their bodies to be shielded from violence. We also pray for state forces to remember they police their own kin. Finally, we pray for the barricades to yield before the demands of common equity. Heavy wheels may block the boulevard tonight. Nevertheless, the highway of righteousness has always outlasted the emperors who tried to pave it over.
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