Managing transitions: Edsa to Bangladesh
Protest movements worldwide tend to come in waves. Much of this results from the emulation of activism seen elsewhere, a tendency heightened by global media and the ubiquity of online platforms. Yet, like development models, protest movements are not portable. Conditions that make them plausible or even necessary in one society may be absent in another. Their value is often inspirational or cautionary, but rarely prescriptive.
Our own political history shows how transitions forced by mass protest can unfold under dramatically different conditions. As an independent republic, we have experienced only two presidential successions that did not arise from a clear electoral mandate or from the death of a sitting president. The first—the installation of Cory Aquino—was the outcome of the 1986 uprising known as Edsa I, which toppled the Marcos dictatorship. The second—the rise of then Vice President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo in 2001—followed Edsa II and the “constructive resignation” of Joseph “Erap” Estrada.
Legitimacy issues hounded both presidencies. They had been installed with the explicit cooperation of the military and police, which meant living with a highly politicized armed forces. By participating in these transfers of power, soldiers and officers became reluctant arbiters of political legitimacy—an implicit veto power that they sometimes expressed through coup attempts. Aquino had to deal with seven coup attempts, Arroyo faced three.
For any modern political system, such a situation is intolerable. Irregular transitions open vulnerable spaces into which actors with no constitutional authority—soldiers, religious leaders, mobs, insurgent groups, or powerful dynasties—could insert themselves.
Aquino understood this danger. She worked quickly to ratify a new Constitution, restore regular elections, and normalize political life. Then she honored her promise and gracefully quit politics. Considering herself a transitional leader thrust into office by events beyond her choosing, she completed her term with dignity and left office respected.
Arroyo made a different calculation. After serving the remaining years of her predecessor’s term, she sought—and was declared the winner of—a full six-year mandate in the disputed 2004 election. The notorious “Hello Garci” phone call with a senior Commission on Elections official damaged her legitimacy and eventually drove nearly half of her Cabinet to resign. She never recovered from chronically low approval ratings. For much of her presidency, a faction of young military officers remained restive, keeping alive the memory of Edsa II as an unsettled bargain.
For our security forces, Edsa I and Edsa II were bruising experiences. These ruptures were so disorienting to their ranks that only the gravest threat of societal collapse would likely summon them again from their barracks. That threshold is far from being met today.
This is why the turmoil in Nepal and Bangladesh should not be casually compared to our own political moment. In Nepal, enraged protesters attacked the parliamentary complex, setting parts of the surrounding area on fire and forcing the prime minister to flee the vicinity under heavy security.
In a strikingly postmodern turn, Gen Z activists used messaging platforms like Discord to coordinate actions and even circulate informal polls on proposals for a caretaker government, while the military kept a low profile and focused on maintaining public order. The next three to six months are going to be crucial; they will determine whether the interim authorities can prepare credible elections, or whether the country sinks deeper into improvisation.
Bangladesh followed a different trajectory. Massive student demonstrations that began in 2024 eventually toppled the government. A transitional administration led by Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus has assumed power. With the tacit support of the military, it has launched a sweeping anticorruption campaign, prosecuting high-profile figures including the former prime minister. Yet doubts hover over the durability of reforms and the fairness of the trials. Economic grievances long suppressed have surfaced and are now central to the national discourse. Bangladesh may be better positioned than Nepal, but democratic consolidation remains fragile.
What Nepal and Bangladesh share is a descent into extra-constitutional transition that no one truly desired. Brutal state responses to early protests had forced an escalation and destroyed what remained of institutional trust. Thus, to the issues that first brought them out into the streets, the citizens of both countries must now add the more complex burden of rebuilding the political order.
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