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State of the nation 2002 NOTHING more important happened in Pakistan in the year 2002 than the country’s return to a quasi-civilian, quasi-democratic rule after three years of direct military rule. It was military rule, no doubt, but with a difference in that the press enjoyed unfettered freedom. Half way through the year, there was a mushroom growth of television channels in the private sector, ending the government monopoly over the electronic media. This liberalization went to the credit of a government that often felt piqued when it was portrayed by the world media as just another military dictatorship. But then dictatorship it was, for if anyone had any doubt on this score, the Musharraf government itself dispelled it when it turned itself into a veritable ordinance factory. As the promised general election neared, the frequency with which ordinances were issued increased to a ridiculous level. The aims behind this frenzy of law-making and unmaking were oligarchic: one, to keep certain political personalities out of the electoral race; two, to make things as difficult for the “undesirable parties” as possible; three, to ensure a hung parliament so as to increase the military’s manipulative powers; four, to secure a majority for the favoured contenders for power, and, five, to give the military a constitutional role in the governance of the country. Some ordinances were person-specific. For instance, one ordinance laid down that no one could become prime minister for a third time, while another stipulated that person could be chief minister thrice. Presented to the nation in two packages, many of the controversial proposals were later withdrawn — like the one reducing the assemblies’ term to four years and giving each senator two votes. Admittedly, some laws that have been retained are of a positive kind, such as the ones increasing the number of seats in the national and provincial assemblies, substantially raising women’s representation in parliament, reintroducing joint electorate system and lowering the voting age to 18. But some others were positively undesirable and sinister in intent — like the one creating a National Security Council, with the generals sitting with the prime minister and other ministers on a footing of equality, and playing a watchdog role which is utterly incompatible with the norms of democratic government. The politicians demanded and secured the withdrawal of several proposals. But on the NSC the generals dug their heels. Called the Legal Framework Ordinance, the proposals became part of the Constitution through a presidential edict. This way, Gen Musharraf outdid Gen Ziaul Haq, who had made the lifting of martial law conditional on the assembly approving his legal and constitutional edicts, besides indemnifying all actions of the military regime. Gen Musharraf said anyone could go to court to challenge the amendments, but the LFO itself said it could not be challenged in court “on any ground whatsoever”. The LFO also revived article 58-2(b), which empowers the president to dissolve the national assembly. The LFO also allowed Gen Musharraf to remain president while still donning the military uniform. Earlier in the year, the regime organized a referendum that was wholly spurious. Held on April 30, the referendum’s sole candidate — Gen. Pervez Musharraf, chief of army staff and chief executive who had already become head of state after Rafiq Ahmad Tarar’s exit — is supposed to have won a five-year term by securing 98 per cent of the vote. The entire country was treated as one constituency, and any citizen could vote anywhere — even at polling stations set up at railway stations and airports. The president later expressed regrets over bogus voting and said he would order an inquiry into cases of wrongdoing. Yet, in spite of all the stage-management, the general election held on October 10 did not quite go the generals’ way. Even though the Muslim League(Q), popularly known as “the king’s party”, emerged as the largest party, the PPP, with an extra P added to ensure against a possible disqualification on technical grounds, did manage to secure the number two place in the National Assembly. More embarrassing for the regime was the extraordinarily good showing of the religious alliance that went by the name of Muttahida Majlis-i-Amal (MMA). Riding an anti-American wave, the MMA not only captured 60 of the National Assembly’s 342 seats, but also secured an absolute majority in the NWFP assembly. In Sindh, it cut into the voting bank of the Muttahida Qaumi Movement, which, however, still managed to emerge as the number two party in the province. The PPP, of course, secured a plurality — 67 of the PA’s 168 votes. Yet the powers that be contrived to keep the party out of power, with the chief ministership going to the PML(Q). At the centre, the behind-the-scenes moves and manoeuvres for government formation dragged on. Finally, on November 23, — 40 days after the polling — the PML(Q)’s Mir Zafarullah Khan Jamali became prime minister, the first Baloch to do so. On December 30, Jamali won a vote of confidence, securing 188 out of 342 votes — up from 172 at the time of his election as leader of the house. The arrangement is precariously perched, and it is a moot point whether the government will be able to complete its term. The PML(Q)-led government rests largely on the support of the MQM and the PPP turncoats. Since Mr Jamali was elected leader of the house, the number of PPP dissidents has increased to 17. If the mercurial MQM withdraws its support at some stage, the generals will face an acute dilemma, and the machinations employed to bring the PML(Q) to power may recoil. But then politics makes strange bedfellows. Did not the generals compromise in Sindh and make the Muttahida’s man governor after withdrawing all cases against him? Thus, by coercion and blandishment (PPP turncoat Faisal Saleh Hayat is now the interior minister) the generals have succeeded in keeping the PPP out of power, even though it has polled the highest number of votes nationwide. All these developments took place against a scary scenario, with India massing its troops on the border and terrorists striking at will and making their presence felt at home. On May 8, a suicide-bomber killed 11 Frenchmen in Karachi, while on June 14 a bomb exploded inside the precincts of the American consulate in Karachi, and there were attacks on churches and hospitals and killing of Christians. These occurred despite a crackdown on religious militants and the banning of several extremist parties, following Gen Musharraf’s pace-setting speech of January 12. War with India was averted, and the law and order situation seemed to be slightly improving. But the common citizen hardly got any relief. The rate of inflation remained steady, but the rise in power and fuel prices has hit consumers hard. The internet reached 400 cities and towns, and the number of mobile phones could fast acquire parity with conventional sets. But there was no worthwhile foreign and local investment that could create jobs and reduce unemployment. A Pakistani commercial satellite was put in orbit, but sprawling urban slums and vast areas in the countryside deprived of even the most basic needs were a constant reminder of the fact that behind the facade of flashy cars and the test-firing of missiles capable of carrying nuclear weapons, Pakistan remained a poor country. Please Visit our Sponsor (Ads open in separate window)