Does December 16, 1971, look different from before in the year 2004? It does. It was previously regarded as the end of the political history of united Pakistan with a change of geography. It means more than that now.
Our accumulated hindsight has exposed a lot, which makes the difference. It reveals that, for the residual Pakistan, the geography did change but the political history did not.
For us, the post-independence pattern of politics continues till today in the same old fashion, and December 16, 1971 was merely a demarcation in its two phases. We now realize that from 1947 to 2004, a single team representing the feudal-military-mullah alliance is continuously playing a long unbroken inning of power play in the pre- and post-1971 Pakistan.
Each ruler looked different and raised new slogans, but all of them pursued common policies to fortify the alliance. Each component of the triple alliance strengthened the other two during its rule. All the military rulers reinforced feudalism by avoiding effective land reforms.
The feudals-in-power always flirted with the army and quickly indemnified the misdeeds of all the military dictators, while the feudals-in-waiting constantly invited the army "to do its duty" by active intervention.
All the rulers lured and nudged the mullahs from the mosques to the assemblies. There was perfect team spirit in this co-sharing arrangement. It needs some elaboration.
The first pre-1971 phase of this process is summed up in the following extract from my earlier write-up (Dawn: December 16, 1996. "Verdict of History") "..... It was November 24, 1971.
Three days had passed since twelve divisions of Indian army, aided by air force, had openly attacked East Pakistan on five fronts but, to everybody's surprise, Pakistan had not complained to the UN Security Council.
I happened to glance through the copy of a despatch by a foreign correspondent sent to his newspaper abroad painting three possible scenarios of the impending Indo-Pakistan war. One of these was that Pakistan might go for a mock war and quick surrender.......
"The projection of the coming events before the war by an outside observer and the performance evaluation after the war by our own military expert (retired Maj-Gen Fazal Muqeem's book: Pakistan's Crisis of Leadership) are amazingly identical......
They (outside observers) had a very clear perception of the army-feudal axis, which not only ruled the country but also had repeatedly demonstrated in the past that it was bent on retaining its dominance by any means whatsoever.
"This axis had always inwardly felt threatened by East Pakistan.... because the non-feudal Bengali was more vocal and politically conscious than the docile and traditionally oppressed West Pakistani in a feudal setting.......Many straws in the wind were clearly indicating to any intelligent observer that this axis would rather get rid of East Pakistan than allow its domination to be diluted."
Today our hindsight tends to support the concluding lines of this extract with a painful suggestion that the nation's humiliating defeat was in fact a hidden victory for the system.
This marked the end of the first phase, and the beginning of the second. The previous style and conduct, however, were faithfully, and demonstrably, carried forward to the second phase.
What was a mere axis of convenience between a military dictator and feudal Bhutto before 1971 developed into a regular alliance of the two groups after that. No one was punished for the debacle, though it was generally accepted as deliberate. Many of the main characters were quietly rewarded, if not openly honoured.
On his death, Gen. Yahya was buried with military honours. A documentary, and other images, of surrender were permanently banished from the television. Hamoodur Rahman Commission report was buried in oblivion. (It was partially released in the last days of 1999, 28 years after the event). Maulana Kausar Niazi (the two-way hidden valve between the mullahs and the establishment) got the high pedestal of a cabinet minister.
The unwritten state policy was to forget East Pakistan as if it never existed. The textbooks of history tried to hide facts from the students to the extent of distortion. Objective writings on this subject, in literature or journalism, were either ridiculed or ignored in our sycophantic environment.
This was the second phase of the same old inning by the same old axis. The unwanted weight of the permanent challenger (East Pakistan) having been craftily jettisoned, the axis started flying higher with far greater confidence.
Its capacity to manipulate increased manifold, when the mullahs openly joined the alliance in the 1977 agitation, thus facilitating General Zia's ride on the religious turf for eleven years, and Gen. Musharraf's Samson-like strength for endless years by the LFO accord in December 2003.
The firmer grip led to the elimination of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto in 1979, a member of the same team but subsequently perceived to be a potential threat for treacherously blocking the free play of other members with the threat of treason under the 1973 Constitution.
It also led to the dismissal of many elected governments after Gen. Ziaul Haq mutilated the Constitution. Its article 58 (2) (b) went on shooting from the hip at first directly and then from the flanks of intelligence agencies.
The striking feature of the second stage is the gradual transformation of its post-1971 confidence into ruthless overconfidence. During the first stage, this system eliminated the East Pakistani challenge by breaking up the country; but in the second stage it is eliminating even the germination of any challenge by breaking into bits the 1973 Constitution, all institutions under its umbrella, contours of civil society, and any prospect of clean politics.
Nothing is being spared from demolition or deformity, be it the legislature, executive, judiciary, press, political parties, bureaucracy, statutory bodies, corporate sector, or even the country's sovereignty. Sadistically relentless at home, the system meekly and willingly surrenders national sovereignty abroad. It did so on Dec. 16, 1971, and in gradual steps after 9/11 2001.
Today, the clear verdict of our hindsight is that the system will do anything to stay in power. We should not, therefore, build any hopes on the post-Ramazan agitation by the mullahs or the politicians, who are equal partners in the system.
In spite of so many storms in the past, the system has been growing stronger because of endless variations of possible compromises. Family quarrels for a bigger share in the pie never breaks the family. It will simply be another round of mock fight for ultimate regrouping but the table of power will never be vacated for the masses.
December 16 comes every year and is lost in blaming a few individuals. Each partner in the triple alliance has tactically created a scapegoat suiting his own selfish ends. State resources have been successfully diverting peoples' accusing fingers to these dummies.
It has been going on for 33 years after the debacle. A whole new generation has grown up in an environment of half-truths and lies in every sphere. Because of this hypocritical breeding, this generation is incapable of judging the true colours of this system.
The elder generation, with its benefit of the hindsight, has mostly remained silent and has miserably failed in passing on the patriotic legacy to their children. The heavy price for this silent failure is that the unholy triple alliance continues to strangle the national interests with impunity. It will stay on because the oppressed, disillusioned, dejected and disorganized people find it impossible to fight its overwhelming strength.
The only way to get rid of the system is to bypass this 57-year old co-operative arrangement by persuading and organizing the masses to elect new leadership from their own ranks.
They should themselves bring in democracy, which their rulers have been denying them. If December 16, 2004, can create this realization, it will be a new silver lining in this heavily looming dark cloud of tragic history.
E-mail: mmufti@apollo.net.pk).
Much ado about nothing
By M.J. Akbar
What do you do when there is nothing to do? For normal people that is not a problem. We sleep. We laze. We bond. We read or, more probably, doze before the more mindless television junk. We might even indulge in some minor free-market crime, like watching pirated movies. There is lots to do when there is nothing to do. For normal people.
But since those who have once tasted power tend to be too grand to be normal, they have a problem when ejected out of office. After a spell of life during which every minute is allotted, either to work or to flatterers, the absence of a printed schedule (not to mention the absence of hangers-on) can be tormenting.
Politicians in other democracies have found solutions. In America they all sign up with agents who put them on lecture tours. America is a very audio-friendly society. Instead of falling asleep at lectures, people actually pay to hear them.
An orator like Bill Clinton makes millions out of lectures. This may not sound surprising, given the number of women anxious for proximity; but even serious men are willing to lay out a budget for the privilege of hearing him speak.
Clinton has a seat in the luxury class of this gravy train, but there is space for lesser lights as well. Even British politicians with some cache are beginning to get on. Then there is membership of the board of companies. British politicians are far more adept at becoming directors.
The city keeps a fair percentage of its space at the top for out-of-work politicians. This is also a means of reducing the income-deficit that all of them have to suffer when in office.
Government salaries are significantly less than what they would have earned in the private sector, so this is an opportunity to compensate. The practice is understood even though it might never be stressed.
For the crasser kind, this can become a pay-off: firms that have benefited from a politician's influence in decision-making tend to possess a memory that can be lucrative at the right moment. Halliburton's expertise in such matters comes to mind.
Then of course there are books. The Clintons, Bill and Hillary, made, together, nearly twenty million dollars at the very least from their respective memoirs. Retired generals have a good market as well. Colin Powell saved himself from any chance of penury with his book about the first Bush-Gulf war.
The trick of course is to be known well enough to be a regular face on television. If you are seen on TV your book will be purchased by large numbers of suckers who have no desire whatsoever to open its pages, except perhaps to get the copy signed by the author.
However, it is reassuring that in some societies a book remains a status symbol of some value. There is after all no scramble for signed DVDs of television serials.
The second requirement is "revelation". The book must reveal something that can put it on the news stories. After that the celebrity author can do his/her round of appearances and stroll all the way to the bank.
We can see instantly that almost none of this works in India. Who was the last Indian politician who wrote a best-seller? Who was the last Indian politician who wrote a book? I am not going to be nasty and ask who was the last Indian politician who read a book, because all of them are literate and many of them do read.
The only author-politicians who come to mind are foreign minister Natwar Singh, petroleum minister Mani Shankar Aiyar and former finance minister of Bengal Ashok Mitra, and that is because politics is a second, post-retirement, occupation for them. (I can't include Arun Shourie in this category because there is some doubt as to whether he was ever a politician.
He was in office but never in politics. He was and is a believer, occasionally of the fundamental variety.) Atal Behari Vajpayee writes good poetry, which is evidence of his difference, but while poetry might fetch an audience it does not fetch royalties.
No best-sellers then to fill empty time zones. One reason for this is that you have to retire to write a memoir. You can't begin to dish out revelations about colleagues if you still intend to do business with them. Who was the last Indian politician who announced his retirement? If you can think of any do let me know (mjakbar@asianage.com will find me).
Politics is a full-time job, and also therefore the only source of income. The only exceptions are those who were born rich, and brilliant professionals like Arun Jaitley or Kapil Sibal.
No one, therefore, thinks of writing a book to reduce the income-deficit. (Ministers, with honourable exceptions, quite often use office as an insurance policy against leaner times.) Ideology is the other reason for writing books, as in the case of Ram Manohar Lohia or Madhu Limaye. Since ideology is dead, ideological books are also dead.
It was different once, as the mention of Lohia and Limaye indicates. But all the greats of the freedom movement wrote. Mahatma Gandhi wrote incessantly. His collected works are nearing the century mark. The finest writer-politician was undeniably Jawaharlal Nehru, whose prose was as immaculate as his intellect; and both virtues took second place to integrity.
Since they had integrity, they had the courage to have differences. Here is Nehru on Gandhi which should be read for at least two reasons: to glimpse the quality of politics in his time, and for the sheer joy of reading excellent prose.
'And then came Gandhi... Much that he said we only partially accepted or sometimes did not accept at all. But all this was secondary. The essence of his teaching was fearlessness and truth ... abhaya, fearlessness, not merely bodily courage but the absence of fear from the mind.
Janaka and Yajnavalka had said, at the dawn of our history, that it was the function of the leaders of a people to make them fearless. But the dominant impulse in India under British rule was that of fear.
'Pervasive, oppressing, strangling fear... It was against this all-pervading fear that Gandhi's quiet and determined voice was raised: Be not afraid. Was it so simple as all that? Not quite. And yet fear builds its phantoms which are more fearsome than reality itself, and reality when calmly analysed and its consequences willingly accepted loses much of its terror.'
Is it the absence of anything else to do that makes politics a full-time activity in India? A political party naturally needs to function out of office, but opposition does not mean a full-time discordant chorus. Silence is not a virtue in any party's dictionary. Loss of power seems to induce a serious sense of insecurity that demands continual if not continuous confrontation.
Sometimes the two sides in a match forget that there is an audience watching every move, and in the political game it is the audience that eventually decides who is the victor: there is no other referee.
Lal Krishna Advani has seen the weather change too often not to recognize this. If by some magic three quarters of the BJP top echelon had other things to do, he might have been a happier man.
One gets the sense that sometimes he is compelled to create artificial activity where none is needed. He is latching on to issues that refuse to catch fire; and not enough thought is being put into examination and analysis, of cause and consequence.
Even the campaign over the Shankaracharya of Kanchi, Jayendra Saraswati, seems to have spluttered out. It is possible that the citizenry is over-sated with politics after the needlessly long election and simply wants the government to get on with its job and the opposition to leave things alone for a while.
There are no takers for any policy of confrontation. Laloo Yadav has only reaffirmed his image of irresponsibility by his sordid attempt to character-assassinate Advani.
Indians do not like witch hunts, no matter who initiates them. (The subtle alteration in the meaning of that term shows how it has fallen into disgrace. It used to mean a hunt for a witch; it has now begun to imply a hunt by a witch.) Indians like it even less when a government uses its power to do so.
Shakespeare - inevitably - had a phrase that sums up the present, and welcome, scratchy lull in Indian politics: Much ado about nothing. When there is nothing to do, the last thing one should do is make much ado about it.
The writer is editor-in-chief, Asian Age, New Delhi.