ALMOST 16 years ago, one of Pakistan’s celebrated thinkers, Eqbal Ahmad, wrote about Pakistan’s praetorian curse in this paper. He was writing only a few months after the reestablishment of civilian rule in the country following 11 years of military dictatorship.

It is a testament to his understanding of the nature of the Pakistani state that Eqbal Ahmad warned repeatedly against the army’s continuing role in politics even while many celebrated the fact that the new chief of staff, Mirza Aslam Beg, had apparently ended the army’s role in state affairs once and for all.

It is inevitable that during periods of direct military rule many commentators lament the role of the army in state affairs. But what thinkers like Eqbal Ahmad, Hamza Alavi and others, who fall into the category of dissidents have insisted not only during periods of military rule but also during short spells of democracy is that the army’s role in state affairs transcends direct military rule. In fact, the army is virtually indistinguishable from the state itself.

Today, Pakistan’s current polity is almost five years into yet another period of military rule. It is merely a conjecture that the election of October 2002 marked a return to civilian rule. History books tell us clearly that both the post-1962 dispensation under Ayub Khan and the one after 1988 under Ziaul Haq were indeed military rule with a slightly changed face. More important is that the army’s direct takeovers are but the most obvious manifestation of a more deep-seated malaise, and that is the dominant political tradition of viceregalism that was bequeathed to us by colonialism.

This viceregal tradition was, and still is, anathema to the spirit of democracy. Eqbal Ahmad said very succinctly, ‘it was an authoritarian, centralizing, paternalistic tradition which had its origins in the colonial metropolis, deriving support in the colony primarily from the feudal class, and received its orders from abroad.’ Today, the feudal class — to the extent that it still exists in its classical form — has been joined by a nouveau-riche but still highly underdeveloped local bourgeoisie, and a resurgent auxiliary class of Islamic clerics. In any case, the viceregal tradition, as represented by an army that has become almost synonymous with the state, continues to dominate.

The colonial powers also bequeathed a democratic tradition to India which led the independence movement and was represented in universities, trade unions and political parties. As many commentators have suggested, the post-colonial histories of India and Pakistan illuminate a considerable difference in the extent to which this democratic tradition has been allowed to flourish. It has been as apparent since Pakistan’s creation as it is today: the democratic tradition in Pakistan has been systematically weakened by the alliance of our viceregal forces with those of imperialism. As has been the case for much of our independent history, the United States continues to patronize the forces of viceregalism in Pakistan so as to protect its own geostrategic interests. It is important to recall how the United States celebrated the ‘democratic’ tendencies of General Ayub Khan and General Ziaul Haq in much the same way that it has put General Pervez Musharraf on a democratic pedestal since September 2001.

Unfortunately, political parties in Pakistan have consistently bargained for a bigger share in power without ever threatening to upset the balance — or perhaps more accurately, imbalance — between the viceregal and democratic traditions. Many argue that Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, as arguably the only freely elected prime minister in the country’s history, did attempt to assert the supremacy of democratic rule. But history tells us that this is not the case. Bhutto’s own personal shortcomings were the cause of the army’s swift recovery from the depths of 1971 crisis.

Despite the fact that his rise to power was the direct result of a profound wave of democratic dissent in the late 1960s, Bhutto’s intense distrust of the democratic tradition and the challenges it posed to his autocratic rule, paved the way for the army’s return to the corridors of power — the precursor to his tragic execution.

As suggested earlier, the viceregal tradition has been accepted and legitimized by the propertied classes, and also by groups such as the clergy that owe their political weight to the patronage of the state and neo-imperialism. Tragically, these are the very groups that comprise our mainstream political parties. Herein lies the explanation for the vicious cycle of military and heavily compromised civilian rule in Pakistan.

It is no surprise that the leadership of the prominent political parties in Pakistan largely owes its political genesis to its support of army rule. Among others, Bhutto was Ayub Khan’s foreign minister for much of the 1960s and Nawaz Sharif was a protege of Ziaul Haq. It is small wonder then that our mainstream parties change their tune towards military rule so readily. Even so, as Eqbal Ahmad wrote, ‘a deficient civilian government is preferable to army rule’.

One of the strengths of the viceregal tradition is its cooption of the intelligentsia. Time and again Pakistan’s intelligentsia has provided a mandate for the role of the army in state affairs. In particular, the intelligentsia has propagated widely the army’s favourite refrain about the corruption and ineptness of politicians. This theme has been commonly employed to justify the army’s political role, even when weak civilian governments have struggled to establish their own authority. Given that the mainstream parties are structurally incapable of representing the democratic tradition by their very composition, such an intellectual complicity has made the emergence of democracy even less likely.

Under British rule, the state was by definition the instrument of the colonizer and therefore its institutions reflected the divide between them and us. Eqbal Ahmad warned in 1989 that the army remained decades ahead of Pakistani society in virtually all areas, including organization, literacy, technological skills and availability of resources.

Sadly, the gulf between the army and the civilians has widened further. With it has increased a certain contempt that high-level officers express for their civilian contemporaries. Perhaps most importantly, the gulf is justified under the pretext that the army is the only professional and responsible institution in the county. Meanwhile, ordinary Pakistanis look in from the outside and cannot help but feel resentment at what they perceive to be an all-pervasive abuse of power.

The Pakistani polity has been in crisis for much of its existence. The break-up of the country in 1971 and similar, albeit less severe, situations such as the current stand-off in Balochistan are simply the most obvious manifestations of this perennial crisis. Arguably, the praetorian crisis can only be overcome when the democratic forces overcome the much more entrenched viceregal tradition. Without doubt, the machinations of empire and the long-standing domination of the army might seem overwhelming obstacles. But is there any choice but to break with an obsolete and oppressive past?

ON Friday morning the citizens of Karachi were greeted by a two page supplement which presented a list of achievements of the Karachi district government. There were the usual messages and mug shots which have become a regular feature of supplements. It was rather like inventing a landscape to suit various members of a family.

There was a beaming president exuding an air of cheerful confidence, a chief minister with an enigmatic smile suggesting that he thoroughly enjoyed sitting over a senile townscape with its heart cut out for a fresh disfiguring, and a highly austere nazim, scorched by the heat of his own worthiness, looking a little uncomfortable in a narrative devoted to extolling the virtues of his local government.

The prime minister, who these days appears to be dividing his time between telling the nation they’ve never had it so good and planning his next trip abroad to preach enlightened moderation, was conspicuous by his absence. His photograph was replaced by the portraits of the city naib nazim who for reasons best known to him decided not to look directly into the camera, and, of course, the DCO of Karachi who glared right through the lens.

The supplement was simply brimming with details of what had already been done and what was still clogging the pipeline. A litany of achievements were intoned under the heading “A glorious example of service, dedication and integrity.” There can be no doubt that progress has been made in a number of areas. But at the same time, one couldn’t help forming the impression that a lot of success stories had been thrown into the honey pot to make the performance look respectable and more impressive than it actually was, and to fill up the space allocated in the advertisement.

For example, “the installation of signals at roundabouts to facilitate traffic flow,” and the “recycling of sewerage water” could hardly be regarded as special achievements. Nor for that matter could “the renovation, repair and supply of furniture.” Most developing countries take traffic lights and the recycling of sewerage for granted, and the bit about renovating furniture is a little incongruous.

Altogether, 41 projects were mentioned, ranging from the abolition of self-financing schemes in colleges to the lease of 278 kutchi abadis. These include the completion of two flyovers, dialysis centres established in government hospitals in New Karachi and Korangi, and the completion of the Karachi Institute of Heart Diseases. These are commendable achievements, and the nazim certainly deserves a pat on the back. One can only hope that care is taken to ensure that the facilities are used by people who really need them.

However, the item about the underpasses to be constructed at eight different places in the city has sent a shudder down the spines of citizens in different localities that are likely to be affected. The Clifton Cross continues to feature fairly prominently in the letters column of all Karachi newspapers as an experience that most commuters would not like to live through again. A photograph in one of the evening papers shows Schoen Circle looking remarkably like a part of Beirut during the civil war.

All major cities have over-and-underpasses. The difference is that in the West and Japan the people who orchestrate the schemes usually invite the views of the public before the first drill hits the rock. They give ample notice and ensure that adequate alternative arrangements are made for commuters. Nothing of the sort happens in Karachi.

Whenever a road is dug up for the construction of an underpass, a parallel road or other lane through which the commuter is supposed to pass is adversely affected through some process of industrial osmosis. Potholes suddenly appear, drains open up flooding the area, rusted angle irons lie about in gay abandon and heaps of stones, sand and gravel mysteriously make an appearance.

And that is not all. As the motorist drives through the slush, wondering what he has done to deserve this affront to his dignity, he discovers that the ‘cuts’ in the thoroughfare that he used to use in the days of yore to save time and expense, had now been blocked by the police “because they were causing traffic jams”. Underpasses, however, are only an extension of the same problem. The real issue is that no significant efforts are being made to tackle the ever growing problem of enabling commuters to travel from one end of the city to the other swiftly and economically in an environmentally-friendly way.

The mass transit scheme, which is one of the 41 achievements listed in the supplement, is one of the great myths that have sustained local government for the last four years. Ever since the installation of the nazim and his crew, there appears to have been a dispute between those who favour the elevated ‘corridor’ system or rail traffic and those who believe the transport requirements of the commuters would be adequately served through the installation of a full fledged ground level circular railway.

The public is often kept in the dark about the various decisions that are taken in the closed door meetings. But in all fairness to the nazim, who is a highly committed and honest man, it must be said that he did try to come up with a solution which would certainly have helped the commuter to get from the northern most part of the metropolis to the city’s business centre in a third of the time taken by various forms of road transport.

He came up with a scheme to construct an underground railway from Merewether Tower to Tin Hatti and to continue the journey as a normal surface rail service to Sohrab Goth. At last a beginning had been made for the city to have its own metro. And then, suddenly and dramatically, one was informed that the scheme had been shelved. That’s why the item “the provision of long chassis buses for the improvement of the transport system” was thrown in as one of the achievements. The vacuum had to be filled.

Most of the other schemes, like the distribution of books, the development of the zoo and the introduction of colleges are tasks that are expected of local government, just as the construction of parks and the repair of bridges. One item did, however, nick the nerve — “the beautification of the coastal landscape.” Here one is obviously entering the twilight zone.

This writer hasn’t yet seen the efforts of the local government lads in defacing the coastal belt. But if their efforts are anything like what they tried to accomplish in the Two Swords roundabout in Clifton, they certainly shouldn’t be allowed near the coast.

However, in spite of the efforts of local government to make Karachi a more comfortable place, there is really not very much to cheer about. The erection of parks and colleges for women is all very well, but it will not stop jobless youths from selling their kidneys in an effort to survive, or provide jobs to the eleven million unemployed men and women in Sindh where conditions continue to spread the margin of misery.

Nor will it stop certain members of the unemployed working class from executing their families before taking their own lives. Or stop the suicide bomber, the latest icon in the lexicon of terrorism, who believes he is going to heaven by sending you to hell, from blowing up fellow Muslims in mosques, or stop Muslim mobs from attacking Muslims in fast food joints carrying an American franchise. Isn’t it time somebody in Islamabad took notice?

EVER since the Platonic period, philosophers have sought to determine the nature and meaning of a “good society and a good state” giving their own interpretations of what an ideal society and an ideal state ought to be. Their interpretations have been formulated in western political thought as diverse concepts of state and methods of government.

In both eastern and western societies, political theorists have also addressed different forms and styles of leadership, including the complicated amalgam of personality required for an ideal leader. Their concepts represent both idealistic and pragmatic approaches to the structure of society, the role of leadership, the rights of individuals and the basis of justice.

No discussion on contemporary democratic systems, including those that we in Pakistan have been experimenting with since our independence, or on endemic tensions between the theory and practice of democratic principles would be complete without a layman’s exposure to the concepts and ideas of some of the well-known thinkers.

The foremost in this philosophical chain is Plato’s (427-347 BC) ideal of the city state and his concept of the philosopher king. In his Republic, he addresses justice as the central question and as a “concomitant virtue” that results from harmonious cooperation among “virtuous individuals” participating in the affairs of the state. Plato’s preferred ruler was “the philosopher king” provided we could find such a “superior person who could rule with perfect wisdom and justice.”

Aristotle’s (384-322 BC) greatest contributions to political theories are his differentiation between the lawful monarch and the wilful tyrant, his argument that people have the right, by virtue of their natural collective judgment, to elect their leaders and to hold them accountable, and his concept that the state and society are man’s vital necessity. For him, good governance was a relative matter and “there was no best form available for all peoples at all times.”

Aristotle also applied the principle of “moderation in all things” to the problem of evaluating any state: for example, was it too large or too small for its population and location, or for the character and skills of its people? He concluded that the good state is one in which the middle class constitutes a majority.

In Aristotle’s view, extremes must always be avoided, for too many individuals in a given occupation will disturb the equilibrium of the state. “Too many soldiers, too many public officials, or too many of any other group except the great middle class will harm or even destroy the state.” He cited the example of Sparta which was destroyed by over-emphasis on the “military way” of life.

There may be no ideal state but in his “Social Contract,” Rousseau (1712-1778) presents his own ideal of a state, simple and small enough for the individual to take an active part in its government, thus ensuring that a citizen’s needs are answered by the state. He favoured a republic ruled by laws, in which the government, run by popularly elected officials, would implement the “general will.” Rousseau’s passion for democracy was evident in his belief that if “there existed a people of gods, it would govern itself democratically.”

Among those philosophers who dealt with the issues of leadership and power, Machiavelli (1469-1527) stands out for his universally known “doctrine of necessity” and for his radical views on what a ruler whom he describes as “prince” needs to do to maintain his full personal power.

Machiavelli’s “prince” has to be “strong, pragmatic, charismatic and ruthless enough” to rule his subjects. He must have a “hypocritical and vacillating” personality wearing the face of “mercy, faith, integrity, humanity, and religion” to create a public image, but often acting contrary to those very ideals. Machiavelli also believed that to gain political power, it is necessary either to be “the child of fortune and be born into power” or to “acquire power through deceit and conquest.”

Machiavelli’s philosophy of government is premised on his assumption that in the absence of virtuous citizens, there are only “corrupt masses” and since the end justifies the means, they can be controlled only by a “prince” through his “deceitful and vicious behaviour.”

With these thoughts and concepts influencing human minds since the emergence of “nation state,” the world has experienced all forms of political systems ranging from monarchies to republics; from aristocracies to oligarchies and from tyranny to democracy. After centuries of trial and error, democracy emerged as the universally preferred choice. It is now considered the universally applicable and acceptable norm and is also the most “prevalent” model of our era.

In essence, however, it may be the most difficult of all forms of government since it requires the widest spread of intelligence and education. As a cynic remarked, “You must not enthrone ignorance just because there is so much of it.” In practice today, democracy is also a luxury that very few countries of the world can afford.

Democracy thrives on education and economic wellbeing which the developing countries, with few exceptions, lack so much. The overwhelming majority of states in Africa, Asia and Latin America are wallowing in indigenously-devised authoritarian political systems with their peoples having little or no role whatsoever in governmental changes or decision-making. They continue to suffer institutional as well as attitudinal weaknesses impeding the prospect of their transition to genuine pluralism and democratization.

The few exceptions, including Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore and South Korea, can only claim quasi-pluralistic structures with non-consequential opposition parties providing only the shadow and not the substance of a democratic system. Most of them followed the “development first-democracy later” route in shedding their authoritarian systems, and in the process have strengthened their capacity for good governance based on the rule of law and maximum utilization of human capital and national resources.

The nature and form of our political system has long been the subject of debate in our own country with no clarity in the minds of our people as to which system suits them most. At the time of our independence, we inherited, like India, a parliamentary tradition but soon lost track, groping in the maze of political chaos and confusion. Since then, while India has persisted with the basic norms of parliamentary democracy, we have been experimenting with distorted versions of almost every form of government, ranging from democracy to dictatorship, from civilian to military rule, and from parliamentary to presidential system.

India, despite its huge size and socio-economic challenges, remains steadfast in its democratic experience and today enjoys global respect as the “largest democracy of the world.” It has enjoyed a providential continuity in its leadership and political institutions with the supremacy of the constitution and sanctity of the recognized political processes remaining inviolable.

While the federal character of the Indian Union has a very important bearing on the political structure, at the state level, a great political diversity has been in evidence. The states have had governments of parties other than the ruling party at the centre. The same people have elected over the past five decades or so a different set of representatives at the centre as well as the states. Governments have always changed through the electoral process and the political leadership remains subservient to the will of the people which is exercised on a regular basis through fair and free elections.

On our part, we have been experiencing systemic aberrations with endless political “merry-go-round” and “power jockeying.” Consistency has never been our virtue as amply reflected in our history of frequent governmental breakdowns and military take-overs. The only constant in our state has been the “state of institutional paralysis.” In every instance, we “found” salvation in our own version of the historically infamous “doctrine of necessity,” which is now our political creed.

Ironically, as a country, which on its creation was considered “twentieth century miracle” of a state which was fought for and won entirely through democratic and constitutional struggle. Pakistan has been struggling haplessly, throughout its independent statehood, for genuine democracy and constitutional primacy. With an ingrained culture of “political opportunism and ineptitude,” we have yet to discover a theory of state and methods of government which will suit the genius of our nation.

For decades, we have had a parliamentary system without our parliament ever functioning as a “full sovereign body” or playing any role in the country’s decision-making. This has been the case even when our politicians were “masters” of their own destiny. They remained “possessed” and fought among themselves scheming against each other. Personally, they may have profited from the privilege and prerogative inherent in the system, but institutionally and in real terms, they have always been the losers.

For them, “legislating” is a business beyond their capacity and alien to their temperament. Their priority attention has always been focused elsewhere, never losing sight of the real “sources of power and bounty.” To them, genuine pluralism, good governance, rule of law, separation of powers, institutional integrity, and normative standards are secondary.

We have also been experimenting with our own version of presidential system, at times under chief martial law administrators, including a civilian one, with no precedent in the world’s history and also with no relevance to the established models of world’s known republics. Our present parliamentary-cum-presidential system under military straps also has no parallel in political philosophy or contemporary history.

The closest we could trace something alike is perhaps the Cromwellian era of the 17th century, known for its varied governmental, constitutional and parliamentary experiments. No doubt, there is remarkable similarity in the “power game” of the two eras as reflected in the political developments and chain of events in England following the rise of Cromwell and his New Model Army (1646), abolition of monarchy and execution of Charles I in 1649.

These developments included establishment and dissolution of several parliaments, “rule of force”, ascendancy of politico-religious fundamentalists, “rule of the saints” in the form of Barebone’s parliament (an assembly of 140 godly men), establishment and collapse of the “lord protectorate”, military rule and finally Cromwell’s last but unsuccessful attempt in the form of “humble petition and advice” to legalize his power through parliamentary authority.

Cromwell, an outstanding “commander” and “administrator”, and an able and effective leader known in history as “one of the greatest of Englishmen,” was always conscious of the fact that the source of his authority was force and not law. He died a frustrated man within seven months after he dissolved the last parliament in disgust, having utterly failed in securing any popular basis for his power.

The tragedy of our nation is that democracy was never allowed to flourish in the country. We deviated from our ideals. Unfortunately, in its short history since independence, Pakistan has seen a continuing cycle of governmental changes by non-political means. Machiavelli’s political philosophy, based on the “doctrine of necessity,” became an integral part of our body politic.

In practical terms, a nation’s health and inner strength are always determined by its interests and capabilities, its problems and disorders, and its operational approach. In our own case, the stability and survival of our nation will also depend on “the system and methods” of our government, on our policies and priorities, and on our ability to cope with the challenges of our times.

This would require a genuine effort to remove the inherent flaws in our body politic and to join the ranks of those moderate and progressive nations which take pride in their systemic consistency based on democracy and pluralism rooted in the will of the people, rule of law, good governance and people-centred development. Indeed, any state could be an ideal one if it is ruled by law, and if its government implements the “general will” for the good of its people.

Given our country’s peculiar socio-economic and political culture, based on feudal and tribal structures, and high rate of poverty and illiteracy, and also in view of our pathetic performance in our political conduct and discipline since Pakistan’s independence, we, like most developing countries, are not yet fit for the parliamentary system. Britain struggled for centuries to reach its current parliamentary status. For us, it would be too long and too arduous a journey that we cannot afford chasing illusory goals.

It is not important whether we have a parliamentary or presidential system because both, if rooted in the will of the people, are democratic. It is time we seriously considered giving chance to a genuinely democratic presidential system, especially “designed for and tailored” to Pakistan’s needs. We must understand that we are not Turkey or France and should look at other more authentic but practical presidential models.

If the history of power game in our country is any guide, and if our political inadequacies have any lesson for us, we need to wriggle out of the parliamentary marshland and look for an alternative form of government that suits our nation’s “genius,” and in which the sovereign power rests with the people who alone possess the “inalienable will.” Cromwell knew that “no system of government, however efficient, can long survive unless it rests upon the consent of the governed.”

Let us reconcile to our inability to find that “superior” person among Pakistan’s “political elites or illiterates” who could fit the description of Plato’s preferred ruler, “the philosopher king” and govern our country “with perfect wisdom and justice.” Plato himself acknowledged that there was no hope for the state “until kings become philosophers, or philosophers kings,” and that in the absence of a “philosopher king,” a republic administered by “an aristocracy of the best qualified persons” (morally and intellectually) was the most wholesome government.

Until our politicians become “philosophers” and our “philosophers” become “kings,” our republic could be administered by a “wholesome” government of manageable size comprising the “best qualified” and “talented” persons who would be judged for their performance and integrity. Or is it too utopian a thought?

The writer is a former foreign secretary.