Revolutions without ruin: Can't change come without (self) destruction?

Raju Korti
The world has watched with bated breath as nations crumble under the weight of uprisings, the streets soaked in blood and the skies blackened by the smoke of destruction. In recent years, the contexts of Bangladesh and Syria have again reminded us of the steep price that uprisings demand. Why must revolutions always tread a path strewn with death and devastation? Can the voices of change not echo in harmony, rather than through the thunder of artillery and the cries of despair?

An AI-generated image of the Syrian uprising.

In Syria, what began as a demand for dignity and democratic rights spiraled into a decade-long civil war. Entire cities like Aleppo and Homs were reduced to rubble, their histories erased in a haze of bombs and bullets. The price? Over 500,000 lives lost, millions displaced, and a nation now grappling with the insurmountable task of rebuilding not just its infrastructure but also the fractured spirit of its people.

Similarly, in Bangladesh, recent protests for fair wages and humane working conditions among garment workers turned violent, leaving behind a trail of scorched factories, shattered livelihoods, and grieving families. It begs the question: could these calls for justice have been answered differently?

Go back into the past and take a look at the French Revolution for instance. While it ultimately led to the establishment of a republic and the end of feudalism, it was marked by a reign of terror, where thousands were executed, and the country was plunged into an unprecedented chaos. The physical and emotional scars left by this period took generations to heal.

History offers rare but inspiring examples of transitions achieved without massive loss of life or property. The fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 is one such instance. East Germans, driven by a desire for freedom, peacefully dismantled decades of division with their bare hands. Their chants for unity and democracy triumphed without a shot fired.

Similarly, in South Africa, Nelson Mandela and F.W. de Klerk led a peaceful transition from apartheid to democracy. Their negotiations and reconciliation efforts averted what could have been a catastrophic civil war. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission, though painful, allowed the nation to confront its dark past without letting it engulf the future in flames.

The Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia is a striking example of a relatively peaceful transition of power. In 1989, a series of non-violent protests led to the end of Communist rule in the country. The lack of widespread violence, allowed for a smoother transition and a quicker path to rebuilding and reconciliation. The key lies in the approach. Movements like those led by Martin Luther King Jr in the US and MK Gandhi in India have shown that it is possible to achieve significant change without resorting to violence and retaliation. 

These examples stand in stark contrast to more recent, tragic uprisings. They show that with visionary leadership, open dialogue, and collective will, nations can steer toward change without destruction.

The aftermath of violent uprisings lingers for decades. Rebuilding Aleppo’s souqs or the garment factories of Dhaka will take years, but the scars in the hearts of survivors may never heal. Children who have grown up in refugee camps or amid ruins lose not just their childhood but often their faith in humanity. Entire generations bear the burden of wars they never chose to fight.

Even when a cause is just, the destruction of lives and heritage begs the question: Is there truly victory in devastation?

For peaceful revolutions to succeed, a nation needs leaders with the courage to listen, even to dissenting voices. The people must recognize their power not just to topple regimes but to build bridges. International communities, too, play a crucial role—offering mediation and support rather than fueling conflicts.

As the dust settles over the ravaged cities of Syria and the ashes of burned factories in Bangladesh, let us reflect on what could have been. Let these tragedies serve as solemn reminders that uprisings born of justice should not pave their path with destruction.

Rebuilding a nation ravaged by conflict is an arduous task. The loss of property and lives leaves deep wounds that are difficult to heal. But by learning from history (which we rarely do!), we can hope for a future where uprisings do not have to be synonymous with destruction and bloodshed. The path to peace is challenging, but it is not impossible. I may sound utopian but the human spirit which banks on violence and destruction can also draw from courage and patience, which we are always short of in times of pelf and greed.  

True revolutions do not merely overthrow; they uplift. They rebuild. And above all, they do no harm.