THIRTY years ago tomorrow, Pakistan’s first, flawed experiment in democracy was brought to a halt. The regime change ushered in by General Ziaul Haq’s coup d’etat on July 5, 1977, was pre-emptive in two senses. Zia was aware that reports of his conspiratorial manoeuvres had reached the ears of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, which meant the act of treachery planned by the army chief had to be committed before the prime minister removed him from his post.

Equally crucially, his window of opportunity was restricted by the fact that Bhutto’s government and the opposition Pakistan National Alliance were on the verge of an agreement that would have eviscerated any excuse for a military takeover.

Civil strife had swept the nation following the elections in March that year, which the opposition claimed were rigged by the ruling Pakistan People’s Party. The claim was not without substance: one of Bhutto’s cardinal flaws was to surround himself with unprincipled sycophants who couldn’t have cared less about the opinions of the voting public, and quite a few of them were inspired by the unfortunate example that had been set through efforts to ensure that Bhutto was returned unopposed from his Larkana constituency.

For all that, it was widely accepted that PPP would anyhow have succeeded in securing a parliamentary majority.

Neither side did itself any credit in the violent unrest that ensued, but just as concessions to the mullahs who appeared to be in charge of the PNA’s ideological agenda were a monumental miscalculation on the part of a rattled Bhutto, he erred even more seriously in attempting to deploy the armed forces against his opponents. This may have been based on the misapprehension that the army would stand by him after all that he had done for it since 1971. On this as on so many other counts, he ought, of course, to have known better.

Within two years Bhutto would be dead, the victim of a murder sanctioned by the judiciary and carried out by the state. The American role in the events of 1977 has been the subject of much conjecture; unfortunately, the `Family Jewels’ released recently by the CIA throw no light on the matter, if only because the documents in question only cover the period up to 1973.

The available circumstantial evidence cannot be construed as conclusive, but nor does it deserve to be overlooked. Henry Kissinger, who had reportedly threatened to make an example of Bhutto, ostensibly on account of the latter’s refusal to halt Pakistan’s nuclear programme, had ceased to be the secretary of state in January 1977, but change of government in the US often does not substantially affect foreign policy.

For a variety of reasons, the Americans had never been comfortable with the idea of Bhutto in power: they were particularly wary of his influence on heads of state and government in the Arab world. At the height of the PNA’s anti-Bhutto movement, Pakistan was awash in greenbacks. In those days -- and for quite a few years to come -- the US did not have too many qualms about allying itself with Islamists.

What’s more, encouraging military coups against popular leaders deemed inimical to American interests was a staple strategy for the CIA. Just a few years earlier, it had successfully put it into practice in Chile, where military chief Augusto Pinochet posed as a loyalist until he had positioned himself perfectly to strike a fatal blow against the socialist government of Salvador Allende.

Bhutto’s government wasn’t socialist, but its perceived nuisance value may have sufficed for it to be categorised as unacceptable to Uncle Sam. Such conjectures may one day be rescued from the speculative realm and either discredited or established beyond reasonable doubt. In the latter event, it would be most interesting to discover the extent to which his benefactors were aware in advance of Zia’s mindset and his agenda.

In last year’s overhyped autobiography, In the Line of Fire, General Pervez Musharraf describes the 1971-77 PPP government as the worst that Pakistan has had to endure, emphasising the opinion by pointing out that he had initially been very favourably inclined towards Bhutto but had changed his mind because of the regime’s antics.

The latter point is not unreasonable: many other Pakistanis felt the same way, and there is no obvious reason to assume Musharraf is being disingenuous. It is much harder, however, to swallow the worst-ever tag, especially in view of the fact that Bhutto’s government was followed by an administration whose malice and maladroitness brooks no competition.

There are a couple of passing references in Musharraf’s book to the Zia regime’s tendencies towards extremism, but even hesitant, half-hearted rebukes of this nature have never found a place in his speeches and statements. It probably wouldn’t be unfair to infer that they’ve been accommodated in the autobiography because the book was intended primarily for the American market. More generally, the Zia regime is above official criticism precisely because the same party is once more in power: this is a reference not to the ever malleable Pakistan Muslim League but to its masters in khaki.

Zia’s initial assault on the public consciousness was aimed at inculcating fear of authority: there were public hangings and floggings, along with efforts at moral policing. Couples could arbitrarily be accosted and asked to produce their marriage certificates. Salat committees were set up to prod the faithful (and the unfaithful) towards mosques at prayer times. Zakat and ushr committees provided a novel avenue for corruption. Media censorship went through several stages, and it was briefly common for all but the most obsequious newspapers and magazines to be published with yawning gaps, white slabs of nothingness -- until blank spaces, too, were outlawed.The blanket ban on political parties created a vacuum that was filled by groups that based their appeal on confessional zeal or ethnic exclusivity. The Jamaat-i-Islami enjoyed a special status, and the perks it enjoyed included ready access to the military rank and file as well as, eventually, to Afghan refugees.

Once the US succeeded in provoking the Soviet Union into the massive folly of military intervention in Afghanistan (quite amazingly, Musharraf in his book cites the old Cold War falsehood about Moscow’s quest for a warm-water port in this context), it was inevitably only a matter of time before the American government dropped all pretence of maintaining a distance from the unusually cruel and thoroughly undemocratic regime in Pakistan. What followed was the US -- and Saudi Arabian-funded -- and to an extent Pakistani-managed -- jihad that in time created ideal conditions for the inception of Al Qaeda as well as the Taliban.

The initial blowback in Pakistan took the shape of a heroin and Kalashnikov infestation that no subsequent regime has succeeded in eradicating. The extent to which military personnel were involved in the drugs and weapons trade may be uncertain, but it is inconceivable that it could have taken place on such a vast scale without army involvement or connivance.

It is hugely ironic that when the uncomfortably close ties between Zia and the Reagan administration were replicated some two decades later, it was in the context of cooperation against phenomena jointly unleashed back in the 1980s. What’s worrying is that neither the US nor Pakistan has ever deemed it worthwhile to acknowledge this somersault. If it proved necessary to invade Afghanistan in 2001 and set up a puppet regime in Kabul that needs to be protected against jihadis, does it not suggest that the jihad was an egregious error of judgment? But no, this glaring contradiction is as invisible to Musharraf as it is to the Bush regime.

It would only be fair to acknowledge that there are significant differences between the Musharraf administration and the Zia regime, even though none of them can coherently be deployed as an argument in favour of a particular form of military rule. The fact that civilian rule in Pakistan seems like an aberration rather than the norm can never be construed as anything other than a tragedy. Besides, the differences don’t signify a complete absence of continuity, which sometimes manifests itself in respects that are anything but innocuous.

To cite but the most obvious example, the “enlightened moderation” that supposedly emanates from Islamabad has manifestly failed to halt the creeping Talibanisation of the country. The New York Times last week cited an interior ministry document that suggested the militancy in the NWFP would spread southwards “without swift and decisive action”.

That’s easier said than done, not least because of connections and in some case ideological harmony between the militants and elements in the military. Arguably the biggest fly in the ointment can be found in Islamabad itself, with Musharraf himself acknowledging that the city’s Lal Masjid is home to an indeterminate number of would-be suicide bombers. He ruled out military action because “it can give a wrong message to the world”, but appeared to assume that the only alternative was complete inaction. (At the time of writing, some action against the Lal Masjid clerics has begum). The obscurantists in the mosque and Jamia Hafsa, meanwhile have no such compunctions: they carry out kidnappings, intimidation and the destruction or capture of property at will.

Alongside the religious affairs minister, who appears to condone suicide bombings (but has thus far avoided volunteering for one), they too are Zia’s children in a sense.

Pakistan’s most unpleasant military ruler surfaced at what was for him an opportune time: the international jihadist phenomenon cannot be attributed to him alone, but he was able to play a disproportionately significant role in aiding the spread of violent Islamism. Pakistan, consequently, continues to reap the whirlwind. The likeliest remedy is a Zia-exorcism, if it’s not too late.

mahir.worldview@gmail.com