Today’s People’s March, protesting Donald Trump’s second inauguration, numbered in the thousands, far shy of the millions mobilized by the Women’s March 8 years ago. There are always protests at presidential inaugurals, but the Women’s March of 2017, along with scores of sister marches, was the largest one day demonstration in American history. It’s hard not to compare, even though so many elements of the politics of the moment are radically different than 2017–many much worse.

Comparison, I’ve heard, is the thief of joy.

One reason organizers chose not to stage a national march–along with scores of sister marches–was knowing that the inevitable smaller turnout would show as a sign of weakness.

The Trump team also worked to avoid comparisons: in 2017, Trump sent his press secretary out to announce the biggest inaugural turnout ever–an astonishingly obvious lie that set the tone for the next four years. Mainstream media outlets quickly published photos comparing the Trump crowd with those attending the Obama inaugurations. Alternative facts indeed. This time, Trump moved the inaugural inside (blaming the weather) and took down the Jumbotrons on the mall so there would be no photographic comparisons showing a skimpy turnout.

The Women’s March of 2017 announced a clarion resolve to resist the new administration–and it worked. (I edited a book about this with Sid Tarrow.) Successful tactics communicate commitment, encouraging allies to do more, and giving pause to some of the less resolute opponents. People who opposed the new administration on civil liberties, immigration, reproductive rights, tax justice, climate change, and so much more, saw that they were not alone and continued their own campaigns. The following week, protesters (some wearing the emblematic “pussy hats”) surged to virtually every international airport in the United States to protest the first sloppy and hateful “Muslim ban.” And there was more: elected officials issued legal challenges, while activists offered shelter and service to travelers caught in the chaos. The Administration was forced to litigate and revise its policies (twice), losing time and a bit of the dramatic cruelty.

Then each weekend in Washington, DC witnessed protests against Trump on behalf of specific grievances: climate, science, abortion, gun safety, democracy and more. Activists formed new organizations and forged new ties, animating a broad opposition that included not only protests, but electoral politics as well–and the Democrats made large gains, notably picking up more than 40 seats and gaining the majority in the House of Representatives.

Trump’s opponents made progress in a battle of position. But the Women’s March and subsequent protests didn’t end the contest. Protest works, but not by itself, and not on a time frame that some activists imagine when they set aside a weekend and plot a placard. To work a demonstration–or any other protest action–has to become part of a longer, more complicated active campaign, including a wide range of efforts.

This time is different. Trump’s second election, with more votes than in 2016 and more votes than Kamala Harris is more than a slight to those who organized and protested years ago. Certainly, it’s a challenge that calls for a reevaluation of strategies and tactics, but that’s nothing like capitulation. The terms and turf in Trump II will be different, but no less contentious.