On average, Pakistan deals with seven major crises of national importance every year. If we add the international crises in the list, like that of May 2, 2011, the total number would then easily exceed 15 annually. It means at least one major crisis each month. Had it been any other ordinary country that was not ordained by ‘celestial powers’, like France, Germany or the United States of America, these troubles would have resulted in the near collapse of its government. However, since we claim a special relationship with the Higher spirit, we can absorb all these difficulties without any hassle and with a smile on our face! Other than being defined as being national or international challenges, these crises can also be divided as being permanent or recurrent. The permanent challenges are the ones that have never been resolved for decades. We inherited them on August 14, 1947, from day one, and since then they have only grown older and bigger, only to become a full-blown life-threatening medical emergency at present. The list includes the economy, corruption, governance (or lack thereof), education and religious fundamentalism. Some of them, like Islamic extremism, reached boiling point a couple of decades ago and have spilled over to the neighbouring countries. In a way, it can be declared as a locally grown international predicament. The recurrent problems are, to some extent, temporary. They get resolved for a short time, but they always come back to bite us again in just a few years. These include constitutional, political, judicial and power crises. On the power crisis, many people would think I am talking about the energy and electricity shortages in Pakistan. They must be concerned about the extended hours of relentless load shedding amidst excruciating temperatures across the country. But I am not alluding to them at all. Regarding the power crisis, my real question for Pakistanis is this: who should have the ultimate right to rule Pakistan? The people who express their will in the elections or the officers, regardless of their ties, cloaks, coats or uniforms? From the officer class, we have all heard the familiar derogatory remarks about all politicians as being ignorant, uncouth and corrupt. They form a significant portion of our educated urban population, sometimes also known as the ‘silent majority’ and at other times as the ‘enlightened moderates’. Before March 2007, they held sway over the political discourse of Pakistan, contending to keep Mian Nawaz Sharif and Benazir Bhutto out of the country. They were happy with the economic success of Pakistan and were optimistic about its future. They were found undisguised in large numbers in the cities, promoting their undemocratic agenda. Nowadays, they have put on a mask and try to hide themselves as the supporters of democracy. Individually, most of them are successful professionals, decent, well mannered and sophisticated people who should have been the real strength of democratic institutions. They have stable jobs, reasonable incomes and at least a middle class lifestyle, if not better. They serve in banks, the military, hospitals, the air force, newspapers, multinational companies and the civil bureaucracy. They read, write and even share their views on television as experts. If you have an opportunity to sit in their company you would discover they talk about international relations for hours, discuss philosophy at length and cover the gist of human history in a matter of minutes. While they laud American democracy, they are equally dismayed by our constitution and its inability to get rid of uncivilised and uneducated representatives. They want to be represented in parliament only by ‘competent and honest’ technocrats, or at least by someone with 14 years of formal education when they are aware that less than 10 percent of the people have college education. If that is not possible, then they would like to wait or vote for a saviour who would dismount from his heavenly carrier one day and wave his magic wand across the country, putting everything in place; corruption eradicated in a few days, accountability completed in a few weeks and the quality of education lifted to international standards in a few months. When it comes to the performance of democratic institutions, they are difficult to please and easily exasperated. Mostly, they believe all politicians, except for the fortunate few, are either traitors (representatives of smaller ethnicities), or dacoits (everyone who has ever been in power), and need to be punished. The constitution is only important as long as the people in the assemblies are ‘dedicated and qualified’, otherwise it is just another piece of paper without any inherent authority. For them legitimacy is relative, and is particularly irrelevant when people are getting jobs and are able to make both ends meet. They do not realise that the insignificant insurgent groups of ethnic minorities that are typically sidelined by the democratic process, take over the main stage during an oppressive dictatorship. As soon as the balloon of temporary peace bursts, the country plunges into chaos, in a condition worse than it was ever in before. This extreme level of lawlessness rules Pakistan today. While it is true that the Pakistan People’s Party-led coalition largely failed to restore order in the country, it is reasonable to believe that after the victory for Sharif, the democratic process has strengthened and would help to put the wretched country together. At this moment, he must know if he already does not that the power struggle is not over yet. It has just begun, and that the ‘influential elite’ is not happy with him. He is not their first choice and he never was in 2013, and that they are working hard, making conspiracies about his every action, predicting failure from day one in their writings and television programmes. They are going to strike back, and they need to be proved wrong with hard work and excellent performance. The writer is a US-based freelance columnist. He tweets at @KaamranHashmi and can be reached at skamranhashmi@gmail.com