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Monday January 13, 2025

Not that I loved Rome less

While Rome’s crumbling Senate provides gripping drama, it is impossible not to draw comparisons

By Munazza Siddiqui
December 05, 2024
Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf supporters gather for a rally as tear gas is used by police officers to disperse them, in Rawalpindi, September 28, 2024. — Reuters
Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf supporters gather for a rally as tear gas is used by police officers to disperse them, in Rawalpindi, September 28, 2024. — Reuters

I watched The Gladiator 2 on November 24, the same day Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) launched its protest march. As the situation weighed heavily on my mind, I couldn’t help but view the film in the context of the events that have unfolded since then – both laden with ambition, betrayal, and unrelenting chaos. Scene by scene, I found myself drawing parallels between ancient Rome’s power struggles and those taking place on the roads to Islamabad – a reminder that in Pakistan, politics often feels like a gladiatorial contest, but without the honour.

The film, a sequel to Ridley Scott’s iconic Gladiator, revolves around themes of revenge, power, and survival within a corrupt system. While Rome’s crumbling Senate provides gripping drama, it is impossible not to draw comparisons with Pakistan’s fractured political arena. Politics here, too, is rife with manipulation and power plays, but the stakes always feel painfully higher because ordinary people pay the price.

In The Gladiator 2, Lucius, the son of Maximus, carries the weight of his father’s legacy while navigating ambition and survival in the treacherous corridors of Roman power. Here in Pakistan, we have former prime minister Imran Khan, who has positioned himself as a modern-day gladiator of justice battling entrenched political forces. Yet, unlike Lucius, Khan’s struggle is marred by inconsistencies and impulsive decisions. His protest march, billed as a defining moment in Pakistan’s history, quickly turned into a tiresome spectacle, heavy on slogans but light on direction.

The film’s depiction of political allies jostling for influence mirrors PTI’s internal dynamics. Once united under the promises of 'Change' and 'Naya Pakistan', the party is now fraught with internal rifts and the weariness of its supporters.

In all of this, the government’s response has been heavy-handed. Digital blackouts and internet disruptions have become modern-day tools for silencing dissent and censoring the media. By throttling access to information, those in power seem to believe they can control the narrative. But such Roman tactics reflect a system that fears transparency.

The film’s climactic moments show Lucius in a desperate final battle to save Rome. His fight, though bloody, carries the promise of hope. The PTI’s march toward Islamabad, by contrast, wasn't quite as cinematic – just long stretches of roads leading nowhere. While Lucius’s battle was for Rome, the PTI’s was largely about securing Khan’s release from jail. Toward the end, the party's rhetoric sounded hollow in the face of dwindling numbers and a lack of cohesive strategy. Much like in the film, the people – the ordinary Romans, or in our case Pakistanis – remained mere spectators to a fight staged for powerbrokers.

In the closing scenes, The Gladiator 2 offers a glimpse of a new Rome – a city ready to embrace change for its survival. In Pakistan, however, the system remains as unyielding as ever. Protests come and go, leaders rise and fall, but the entrenched structures of power endure. Whether it’s Imran Khan, the ruling coalition, or the shadowy establishment, everyone appears locked in a cycle of personal ambition that trumps collective progress.

The broader context is no less disheartening. While Lucius contends with monkeys, lions, and swords, we grapple with the more banal yet equally stifling realities of cyber blackouts and institutional apathy. In an age where access to information is a basic necessity, the state’s tendency to shut it down reflects a fear of transparency and accountability.

Both The Gladiator 2 and Pakistan’s political theatre show that power struggles are rarely about justice or honour. More often, they are about survival, ego, and self-interest. Imran Khan’s attempts to position himself as the people’s gladiator may falter under the weight of his contradictions, but he is not alone in this. Pakistan’s political arena is full of leaders who promise change but ultimately perpetuate the same cycles of dysfunction. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

What Pakistan truly needs is a departure from this gladiatorial approach to politics – a shift from ego-driven theatrics to meaningful, systemic reform, and a fundamental change in how we think about power, governance, and accountability.

Until that happens, we remain spectators in a coliseum of our own making, watching the same old battles play out, the outcomes as predictable as they are disappointing. And much like in ancient Rome, it’s the people in the stands – not the gladiators in the arena – who bear the cost of the spectacle.

The writer is an executive producer at Geo News. She tweets/posts @munazza193