Where is democracy?

ON the eve of his departure, the outgoing US ambassador to Pakistan, Ryan C. Crocker, gave to the government a gift far more valuable than anything that it could have asked for. He was reported to have told the press in Islamabad that in his view “Pakistan is a democratic country”.

This powerful endorsement from the American ambassador must have come as a tremendous boost to the government that has been under virtual siege for over three weeks. This is primarily because all Pakistani rulers have looked up to Washington for sustenance and support. Military regimes, in particular, have sought legitimacy from Washington, usually by offering their services in the cause of US interests.

The US ambassador is an accomplished diplomat who has risen to the highest rank in his country’s professional service. I also have great respect for his efforts to enhance US-Pakistan relations.

Crocker’s statement is, however, most unfortunate. Its timing, in particular, is deeply regrettable, coming as it did at a time when Pakistanis have been demonstrating remarkable resolve and courage in expressing their views on an issue of supreme interest to them.

This should also be a matter of interest to states such as the US that want to see a stable, peaceful and democratic Pakistan. What happens in the coming weeks will determine whether this country will be able to go back to its democratic roots, or continue to be governed by unelected individuals.

Little did the rulers know that a civilian would be able to stand up to the demand of a military dictator to resign his office. The chief justice’s refusal to be cowed was unprecedented in the country’s history, where political leaders, judicial officers and civil servants have chosen to abandon their high office at a mere hint of displeasure from the rulers rather than stand up for what they have sworn to defend.

It was this unexpected response of the chief justice that threw a spanner in the works for the government had not catered for this eventuality. With the benefit of hindsight, it is quite clear that the suspension or forced leave of the chief justice acted as a lightening rod for the people who had until then appeared resigned to their fate.

This explains the hasty, ill thought-out actions that subsequently came to the fore – whether it was the detention of the chief justice for hours in the camp office, the hurried swearing in of an acting chief justice, the denial to the chief justice of his right to return to office to pick up his personal papers and finally, of his near confinement for days.

Yet the American envoy chose to call Pakistan a democracy. Earlier, he was also reported to have seen no contradiction in the army chief also acting as head of state, and insisting on functioning as the virtual chief executive as well. That such an arrangement goes against all recognised norms of democratic rule had apparently escaped the learned ambassador.

True, there is no internationally accepted model of democracy and there can be many variations of it. Yet it does not take a mathematical genius or a political scientist to recognise that only a system of government that derives its legitimacy from the freely expressed will of its people can be called a democracy.

Of course, this does not mean that dictators have not tried to assume the garb of a democrat. I still recall my teacher at the Moscow State University insist that the 1936 constitution given by Joseph Stalin to the Soviet Union was the most democratic in the world.

Given the fact that the US was established by those fleeing state oppression and religious persecution, it was inevitable that the framers of the US constitution would focus much of their intelligence and energy on ensuring that no individual or institution should become so powerful as to dominate other institutions.

This explains the philosophy underlying the concept of the balance of powers. Admittedly, this arrangement has led to “gridlock” on occasions, and according to some political scientists, even resulted in an ineffective and weak executive. But the collective memory of their suffering at the hands of a powerful ruler restrained the founding fathers from considering any other alternative.

This explains the profound attachment of the American people to democratic principles, though this has not prevented the US from giving primacy to national interests in its foreign policy. This is not unusual, for states do not base their foreign policy on religious, ethnic or political affinities, but on the promotion of their national interests.

These considerations are meant to take precedence over factors such as the character or conduct of a state or its rulers. After all, the best known practitioner of this concept of “realpolitik” is Dr Henry Kissinger, who remains the most influential American political scientist in the post-war period.

It is this concept of realpolitik that explains why the US has never hesitated to enter into close, cooperative ties with countries with unsavoury regimes. The South American continent, in particular, continues to be haunted by the ghosts of past military rulers such as Pinochet, Stroessner and Somoza, whose record of brutality continues to send a shudder down the spines of human rights activists in these countries.

And who can forget the pivotal US role in propping up brutal regimes in other parts of the world. But none of this was justified on the ground that they were democracies. Washington’s explanation was honest and simple—that it needed to be done in order to advance US national interests.

What then could explain the American ambassador’s remarks? Surely, it cannot be because he believes that Pakistan has a democratic dispensation. Is it that having spent much of his career working in authoritarian states, with oppressive regimes, such Iraq, Syria and others of similar orientation, Pakistan appears a pleasant and welcome change?

The ambassador would have done well to recall that South Asia’s political development took a different trajectory from that of the Middle East and the Gulf. India and Pakistan gained their independence not through an armed struggle, nor due to the machinations of local potentates, but after a long, peaceful agitation, led by civilian politicians, who, believing in the inherent superiority of the democratic system, chose to engage in dialogue and negotiations.

Consequently, the leaders of both major communities in the subcontinent eschewed violence and remained firmly wedded to democracy and human rights. In fact, the British Indian army played no role in the freedom movement, remaining faithful to the Crown till the very last moment. It was, therefore, no surprise that in his speeches, the founder of Pakistan warned our soldiers against Bonapartist tendencies.

Thus, when our friends in the West praise us as a “far freer society than those in the Middle East”, the Pakistanis do not take it as a compliment. They do not want their government to be compared with those in the Middle East and the Gulf, but to those in the South Asian neighbourhood.

Politically and socially, they prefer to be part of this region, rather than of the Middle East. Having lived on the same land and gone through similar experiences for over a thousand years, they cannot comprehend what divine displeasure they could have incurred to be denied the fruits of democracy, while their neighbour (India), with no claim to better economic or social progress, should be able to function as the world’s largest democracy.

Pakistan has had the misfortune of being under military dictatorships for half its existence. Even such a sacred document as the Constitution is treated as a mere scrap of paper by our rulers.

That Musharraf sees no contradiction in the army chief also being the head of state, with executive powers is no surprise, given his training and orientation. But that the US ambassador should hold similar views is both disappointing and painful. He appears to have ignored not only his country’s history, but his own president’s statements.

That the United States is admired and respected the world over is not on account of its economic dynamism or its military prowess. It is because the world still perceives the US to be the “land of the free and the home of the brave”.

Virtually all US presidents have sought to burnish their credentials by claiming to promote democracy in other lands. In more recent times, both Presidents John Kennedy and Ronald Reagan made the promotion of democracy a primary goal of their administrations. Even President Bush, in his second inaugural address, offered a vision of American leadership in the world, based on the expansion of democratic governance to all countries.

This explains why President Bush during his visit to Islamabad on March 4, 2006, informed the media that he had devoted considerable time discussing the issue of democracy with Musharraf. He underscored this by pointing out that “Musharraf understands that in the long run, the way to defeat terrorism was to ensure democracy” and that the 2007 elections were “a great opportunity but they needed to be open and honest”.

Earlier, this month, the US Senate passed a resolution calling upon the administration “to encourage the transition in Pakistan to a full democratic system of governance”. And only recently, some of the most powerful members of the Senate addressed a letter to Musharraf reminding him that he needed to do more to ensure the return of democratic rule to the country.

They also warned Musharraf that “unless the leaders of Pakistan’s two oldest and most firmly established parties are free to return from exile and campaign for office, it will be difficult for the international community to regard the 2007 elections as a true expression of democracy.”

These are trying times for Pakistan, but the current crisis has also created an unusual air of optimism and anticipation in the country. It may have unnerved the rulers, but it has generated hope among the masses.

As a democracy, let the US use its considerable influence in favour of the forces of democracy and human rights so that the country can return to the dream of its founding fathers. It is only through a democratic polity that the country will become a moderate, progressive state that can serve the cause of peace in the region. Only such a country can be a genuine friend of the US.

The writer is a former ambassador.

The god that failed again

CERTAIN things are not expected from some quarters. The belief is that these quarters, motivated by pro-people considerations, would not go too far. Yet, when they behave in the way that others do, the disillusionment is deeper than the disappointment. The West Bengal government led by the Communist Party of India (Marxist) has shaken that kind of confidence.

That a regime committed to the wellbeing of its people should let the police suppress a protest is unthinkable. The force indulged in untold atrocities. There was murder, rape and looting. The police shot and killed 11 people. The CPM rationalised what happened without a word of condemnation.

I should have written about this earlier. But I did not do so deliberately because I felt that a leftist government could not do all that the media was highlighting. I believed that the CPM was the only political party which followed certain standards that the rest had forsaken long ago. I am shocked at the facts which have come to light.

Nandigram is a large village where the CPM government sought to acquire – forcibly – agricultural land “in public interest”. This was meant to be handed over to a construction company from Indonesia. Obviously, the “public interest” had been stretched to a point where the farmers’ rights had been ignored. The real purpose was to attract foreign capital for the state’s industrialisation without which it was felt it could not go very far. There was nothing wrong with such thinking. West Bengal was the hub of industry before the extremists of the left drove it out more than two decades ago.

What was wrong then and continues to remain so today is the use of force. It was brutal, deliberate and unchecked – all to suppress the farmers who did not want to part with their land. When the state governor came out with an open indictment and said that the police firing had given him “cold horror,” nothing was left to doubt. A top Bengal intellectual, with leftist leanings, wrote: “It will be not an exaggeration to say that the Nandigram massacre was another re-run of Jalianwala Bagh.”

Former Chief Minister Jyoti Basu was the first one to criticise the state government and remind it that this was a government of the CPM and not of any front. How does one explain the excesses committed by a leftist government against its people? How could a CPM chief minister use the police against farmers and villagers who constituted the core of the proletariat?Even liberals felt horrified because the CPM handling of the Nandigram agitation was no different from bourgeoisie-run states where using force is the norm to make people fall in line.

A CPM Rajya Sabha member’s defence that “their men” were also beaten up is true. But this does not absolve the party of blame because it was the CPM government which initiated the process to get the land and sent the police to see that the job was done. Whatever the provocation, a leftist government cannot sanction the firing by police on farmers. It was not expected from the communists.

This is precisely what hurt late Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru during the India-China war in 1962. He told his home minister, Lal Bahadur Shastri, that he (Nehru) never expected a communist country to wage war against a nation trying to establish a socialistic pattern of society. Nehru was a socialist by conviction. What the Chinese action proved was that communist countries were as much guided by jingoism as the capitalist ones.

The use of police was bad enough, but the CPM did worse: it sent its cadres to suppress the farmers. The cadres reportedly used guns primarily meant to kill animals. The Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) confirmed this. In its report, not published yet, the CBI has pointed out that some unused bullets, wrapped in paper packets, indicated the source from where they had been procured. The needle of suspicion was directed at the state rulers.

In the same vein, the CBI has said that cell phone records, a copy of which the agency retains, showed who had engaged these men. According to the CBI, a paper chit found in their possession, and that appeared to be a hit-list, had 45 names. The identity of these targets also indicated that the operation wouldn’t have lasted only for a day.

What amazes me is that the CPM government went ahead with Nandigram when the dust over the land allotted to the Tatas at Sangur near Kolkata had barely settled. The CPM had assured at that time that no land would be acquired without the willingness of the farmers. The use of force was ruled out. Still the police and the CPM cadres did the opposite at Nandigram. Could this be an example where CPM chief minister Buddhadeb Bhattacharya went beyond the party’s limits? Probably, its central politburo had no option except to support Buddhadeb.

I found a tinge of remorse in the statements and writings by CPM secretary-general Prakash Karat on Nandigram. Of course, other leftist parties made no secret of their unhappiness and attributed the Nandigram happenings to the “gross arrogance” of the CPM’s leadership in West Bengal. I cannot make out how the state CPM secretary-general Biman Bose agreed to send the party cadre. He reportedly does not agree with the chief minister’s views on development. Buddhadeb should, however, explain why he strayed from the path of consultation and opted for confrontation. He could see how the farmers had barricaded the entire village and that they were determined to fight to the last man to protect their land.

The CPM has realised that the major drawback is the special economic zone (SEZ) law. The party is waiting for its amendment. The criterion for selecting the land for SEZ should be not whether it is less cultivable but whether it is barren. Wherever barren land is available in the country, it should be utilised for the location of SEZ. The cost of building the infrastructure there can be added to the cost of SEZ.

Socialism, the communists should realise, is not only a way of life but a certain approach to social and economic problems. What the CPM did in Nandigram was blatantly wrong and anti-people. True, the party has bowed before public pressure and withdrawn the police. But the damage has been done. I wish the state home minister had submitted his resignation. It may be a Gandhian way. But it goes down well in a country like India.

The writer is a leading columnist based in New Delhi.

Pullout deadline

THE Senate has now joined the House of Representatives in setting a deadline for the withdrawal of US combat troops in Iraq. Its date is a year from now — March 31, 2008. The House's deadline is Aug. 31, 2008.

The dates are arbitrary. The Senate's language is nonbinding and more likely to be part of the war-funding legislation that reaches the White House. But because President Bush vows to veto any measure with a timetable attached, passage is purely symbolic. Amid all this political gamesmanship, however, some clarity may yet emerge.

The withdrawal language is wrongheaded. As we have argued before, it is bad precedent and bad public policy for Congress to attempt to micromanage military operations in Iraq. As Bush said Wednesday: "It makes no sense for politicians in Washington, D.C., to be dictating arbitrary timelines for our military commanders in a war zone 6,000 miles away."

If the United States, through a last-ditch military effort combined with political initiatives, can quell the violence in Iraq and demonstrate progress, then a US military presence for more than the congressionally approved year might be a good investment. But if the troop surge, after some months, fails to improve either the security or political situation, then a year would be too long to leave US troops in Iraq.

Although Congress' stand may be irrelevant from a policy standpoint — no troops will be withdrawn because of it — it can still have practical value, placing additional pressure on the president to get Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri Maliki's government more involved in policing its own citizens. If you don't make progress, Bush can tell Maliki, Congress may withdraw US troops altogether. And then you'll really be in trouble.

Unfortunately, the Maliki government appears incapable of winning credibility and support among Iraqis.

None of this is to say that Congress must sit by passively. If a majority of the people's representatives conclude that the effort to stabilise Iraq has failed, then Congress should vote to cut off war funding. That is its constitutional privilege. But a willingness to wait even a few months to see the results of the surge strategy, followed if necessary by a meaningful threat to cut off funding for combat by a specific date, is more likely to focus Iraqi minds than the current, purely political, play.

The US has a moral obligation (as well as a national interest) to leave Iraq as quickly as possible with a stable government in place. This resolution won't end US involvement in Iraq. But it may help persuade Iraqis to end the violence.

–– Los Angeles Times