AS PAKISTAN grapples with the issue of how to deal with a strong military, the reality which needs to be appreciated is that the institution of the armed forces today is much stronger than at any time in the country’s 60-year history. Its political strength today is a combination of its political and economic power.

The issue is not whether or not the military creates monopolies. But the fact is that its ability to appropriate national resources adds to its visibility in society and enhances its power. The problem of military capital, it is important to note, is not specific to Pakistan. In fact, it is a growing problem throughout the world.

There are two obvious patterns of military capital. First, there is one in which military capital has increased due to the expansion of the security sector. This situation is found mostly in developed countries including the US, Britain, France and others. Second, there is expansion of military capital in countries suffering from authoritarian rule. The impact on politics in both cases is quite different. However, the net result is that it increases the military’s overall stakes in policymaking.

Let’s consider both cases in greater detail.

Traditionally, people have looked at the military-industrial complex in the developed world. American President Dwight Eisenhower once warned his people against the power of this sector. In his famous farewell speech to the nation in 1961 he warned his people against the “unwarranted influence” of this burgeoning sector.

Surely, he did not realise then that the nature of the military-industrial complex would change tremendously in the following years. Military capital in the US has become much larger and is not limited to weapons manufacturing but extends to other segments of the corporate sector as well.

The ever-growing powerful private military enterprises (PMEs) are a critical part of military capital. The share of PMEs such as Halliburton, Dynacorps, MPRI and many others indicates the phenomenal rise of military capital in the US and other developed countries. An interesting feature of the Iraq war or America’s military adventures in countries such as Bosnia and those in the African continent pertains to the financial benefits reaped by the PMEs. For instance, in 2003 alone Halliburton won contracts worth $4.3bn. And this is just the tip of the iceberg.

This peculiar merger of interests of the PMEs and Pentagon reflects on the tenor of policymaking in the US. President Bush might be moved by the strength of his conviction to fight in Iraq, but it is unwise to ignore these other interests as well.

The important issue here centres on why military capital has expanded in these countries which have a comparatively stronger tradition of civil-military relations. The problem dates back to the end of the Cold War when the sudden absence of the threat and the urge to downsize or right-size the defence sector was not accompanied by a systematic analysis which could have given rise to a sophisticated discourse on reshaping the defence sector.

Consequently, the security sector has expanded without the stakeholders admitting to its new shape which is no longer limited to the armed forces but includes the private sector as well. The politico-economic interests of this sector are far more intertwined with those of the armed forces than ever before in the past.

Such evolving economic interests have, of course, put pressure on democracy. The saving grace of these countries is, however, that the political system and process which have been in place for years provide a certain cushion to the rest of society. Other players can still hope to contest their respective political spaces and economic interests.

Civil society in a number of developing countries cannot claim to have even the bare minimum political space. Hence, the crisis of stronger authoritarianism and of a far greater role for the military increases in these other socio-economies. Two interesting examples in this regard are Iran and Algeria. The military or paramilitary in these two countries has expanded its political space and entered the economic sphere.

In fact, a subtle difference between the two different categories of military economy is that in developing countries military capital tends to enhance the depth of the military’s political control. So, the impact on political power and influence is much sharper than in the other case.

Indeed, the Iranian case is very interesting where the paramilitary forces, the Pasdaran, have made inroads into the economy. The Pasdaran are systematically benefiting from the privatisation policy of the state which stipulates that the public sector will be reduced. This policy, underscored by Article 44 of the Iranian constitution, has plans for a special council to oversee privatisation and to watch over the private sector.

Interestingly, the head of this council is a former military officer and the new policy does not allow accountability or privatisation of the military industry. The Iranian paramilitary force has used this special protection to move into many critical sectors including oil and gas. They are also into heavy construction and have been getting huge construction projects without necessarily having the expertise or management know-how.

The main company of the Pasdaran called Khatam-al-Anbia is exempt from taxes and depends on huge state subsidies. It is believed that this company has sufficient clout to buy some of the privatised public sector ventures which will actually be a case of the government buying government projects and industries. The case in Algeria is similar where the military has huge stakes in the private sector.The enhancement of military capital in authoritarian political systems is far more problematic because it extends the political clout of the armed forces. Since the military and paramilitary use their political influence to start business operations, their ventures suffer from greater lack of accountability and are much more costly to the state due to the subsidies which they seek. It is difficult not to notice the impact that the presence of this economy would have on domestic politics.

What is an even more significant factor, however, is the interaction between international private capital and the authoritarian military-controlled capital in these countries. In a number of these countries including Algeria, Iran, Turkey and even Pakistan, military capital is increasingly seeking foreign partnerships. For instance, segments of French business represented by companies like Total and Renault have stakes in Turkey and Iran. A few Norwegian companies are also operating in Iran.

In Pakistan’s case, too, we can observe the building up of a partnership between military capital and private business from the Gulf countries. While the European or Gulf private sector would like to justify this presence as driven by their financial interests, the fact is that the expansion of military capital is highly questionable. The peculiar interaction between international and military capital makes for an interesting case study.

It is worth analysing if the private sector in the developed world is conscious at all of the implications of this capital for the domestic politics of these states. Or perhaps this is an era of intermingling between military capital in the developed and developing worlds.

The writer is an independent analyst and author of the book, “Military Inc, Inside Pakistan’s Military Economy.”

E-mail: ayesha.ibd@gmail.com

THE theory of Pakistani nationhood being promoted by the establishment has had far-reaching consequences for the country’s political, social and cultural milieus. It is argued that we are the followers of one religion (Islam), live in one country (Pakistan) and belong to one nation (Pakistani); therefore, we should have one national language (Urdu).

The rhetoric of artificial oneness has been going for 60 years despite the fact that Pakistan lost its eastern wing in 1971 over this controversy. It was a difficult concept to grasp and ultra nationalists latched on to the argument that when there was no migration of Urdu-speaking people on the agenda of Partition then why had Urdu been made the national language of the country.

When Pakistan was created, the myth foisted on us was that one language would bind the people together. The policy of promoting one language and suppressing others created an ill feeling among the people. The Bengalis created a furore in East Pakistan because of their sensitivity about the language issue.

Dr Tariq Rahman of the Quaid-i-Azam University has this to say about the situation: “No minority wants to be dominated by a powerful majority. But no majority wants to be dominated by a powerful minority either.” The distinguished linguist observes that the issue that was a minority versus majority one during the days of the Pakistan movement became a majority versus minority one after Partition.

He correctly points out that it had been forgotten that Urdu was a symbol of unity for the Muslims of South Asia and not a tool to win power and resources in the new country. For that reason, the Bengali majority demanded that its language be made one of the national languages of the country.

When the majority was denied its right to develop its language, the country fell apart. The making of Pakistan did not mean the destruction of languages, culture and society of the people living in different parts.

Paradoxically, in Sindh the language of Shah Latif and the language of Mirza Ghalib emerged as rivals fearing destruction at the hands of the other and not realising that Shah of Sindh and Ghalib of Delhi had made both languages immortal.

The world has come far since the fall of the Berlin Wall. Two opposite ideologies — communism and capitalism — coexist in China under the precept of “one country and two systems”. What is the harm if Pakistan were to have many official languages as India where 70 per cent of the people do not speak Hindi?

If we look through the cultural kaleidoscope of this country, we find a multiplicity of linguistic groups from Karachi to the Karakorams. The Indus valley has always remained the melting pot of different peoples and it is for this reason that the renowned historian Toynbee described the region as “the roundabout of history.”

Through the ages, multifarious societies emerged in this part of South Asia and followed divergent and contrasting cultures and beliefs. It is a region where cultures have converged and civilisations have flourished side by side.

It is a pity to see how from 1947 onwards our society has promoted exclusiveness rather than inclusiveness so that different cultural groups have not learnt to respect each other’s way of life and language.

It is time we recognise the beauty of all languages spoken in the country and acknowledge their status as national languages because they are spoken by people who make up the country.

There is nothing wrong with the country having more than one national language as in progressive Switzerland and Singapore.

Successive governments have ignored the fact that this country has been home to different nationalities who have spoken their own languages for centuries and these languages have been passed on to their progeny.

manzoor.chandio@dawn.com

THE Nawaz Sharif episode has made one thing clear that the people of Pakistan are not yet willing to come out on the streets to retrieve democracy. True, four to five thousand people were detained before the former prime minister landed at Islamabad and some more were arrested when they tried to make their way to the barricaded airport. But they were mostly members and supporters of the PML-N.

There was no uprising like the one witnessed in Nepal to oust the king to make the country a republic. I had imagined that people in Lahore, Faisalabad, Multan, Sialkot or at least Rawalpindi would defy the police over Nawaz Sharif’s homecoming. The enthusiasm and the dedication with which the lawyers had conducted their four-month long agitation for the reinstatement of Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry made me believe that if ever the chips were down, all would be there, from far and wide, from the haves and the have-nots, to register their demand to oust the military ruler.

Yet when the time came and Nawaz Sharif was in the Pakistani capital, there was little protest, even in Islamabad. People cannot say that they were taken by surprise. He travelled by PIA, the official carrier of the country, to make it clear that he was not entering the country furtively. In fact, Nawaz Sharif had given out the date and place one week before he travelled. He bearded the lion in his den. He dared President General Pervez Musharraf despite being given dire warnings. But there was no popular response.

There can be many explanations why the people did not come out. They were too burdened by the task of earning their livelihood. Or it could be that long periods of military rule had sapped their energy to the extent that they lack the courage to stand up to the government. Perhaps these are valid reasons. Yet, the fact remains that when Nawaz Sharif was at the airport for almost three hours, the Pakistanis were quiet as usual.

Probably it was fear that gripped them. It was like when Zulfikar Ali Bhutto was hanged, and there was no protest whatsoever in Pakistan. India exhibited its anger although the then Prime Minister Morarji Desai was against any demonstration or protest.People saw the spectacle of Nawaz Sharif’s arrival on their television sets. There was hardly any public stir which could make the rulers shaky. I am not dwelling on the people’s feeling of alienation which is writ large on their faces. I am only assessing the response to the arrival of a banished leader after seven years.

It is apparent that the government was not deterred by the Supreme Court’s judgment that a Pakistani national had the inalienable right of return to his country. Both Nawaz Sharif and his brother, Shahbaz Sharif, were mentioned by name in the judgment. For reasons best known to the Musharraf government, it must have considered the legal aspect lest it should invite contempt of court. It goes without saying that the judiciary is one of the pillars of the democratic edifice. Its authority safeguards an individual’s rights. Still, the judiciary, however free, depends on the support of the people. The intelligentsia and others showed their stamina and strength during the lawyers’ agitation.

But why they did not participate in the political battle when Nawaz Sharif fired the first salvo? What has been mentioned at indoor meetings has come out in the open. Political parties would rather blot out one another than join hands to oust military-backed rule.

The PPP, headed by Benazir Bhutto, kept its distance from Nawaz Sharif. His “understanding” with Saudi Arabia to “escape” the rigours of jail was characterised as signs of cowardice. Maybe, he should have preferred prison to plush living and kept the flame of defiance burning.

Still, he has not tried to make up with the military which negates democracy. Despite his past — his close relations with General Ziaul Haq — Nawaz Sharif has rejected all Musharraf’s overtures. He has stuck to what he said after the coup in which he was removed, that he will have no truck with the military.

On the other hand, Benazir Bhutto, with all her liberal credentials, has negotiated with Musharraf and reportedly accepted him as president provided he gives up the uniform. In other words, all that he did to the nation in the last seven years has been forgiven and brushed under the carpet.

Still, more important is the principle of military-cum-civil rule. What Benazir Bhutto is doing runs counter to the Charter of Democracy which she signed with Nawaz Sharif at London. The document is a primer in people’s sovereignty in the whole subcontinent.

It says at the very beginning, “Drawing history’s lesson that the military dictatorship and the nation cannot coexist — as military involvement adversely affects the economy and the democratic institutions as well as the defence capabilities and the integrity of the country — the nation needs a new direction different from a militaristic and regimental approach of the Bonapartist regimes, as the current one…”

There is no halfway house in democracy. Either people are sovereign or they are not. Sharing power, however limited, with the military will take Pakistan back to square one and defeat all the work done so far to restore democracy. Benazir has said that 80 per cent of her deal with the military had been completed. I can understand her anxiety to return to Pakistan to fight against fundamentalism. But this cannot be at the expense of democracy.

The role of the religious parties appears opportunistic. The Muttahida Majlis Amal (MMA), the combination of six religious parties, is running the provincial governments in the NWFP and in Balochistan with the help of Musharraf’s Muslim League (Q) headed by Shujaat Hussain. Whatever the MMA’s rhetoric, it wants the support of Musharraf in the next election. He helped it to win numerous seats in the National Assembly to keep as many liberals out as possible.

Probably, Nawaz Sharif realised at the last minute that his would be a lonely battle against Musharraf. Shahbaz Sharif was asked to stay back even after he had collected the boarding card for travelling with his brother. Begum Kulsoom, Nawaz Sharif’s wife, has declared that she would travel to Pakistan to pick up the thread from where her husband left off. No doubt, she can. But she may not get much support unless the PML-N mobilises the help of other political parties and alliances.

For that, Nawaz Sharif would have to say goodbye to the religious elements he has gathered around him. He should think of how to do so because his first shot has gone awry.

The writer is a senior columnist based in New Delhi