NOTWITHSTANDING his own view of himself as a statesman and an enlightened modernist in Jinnah’s mould, Gen Musharraf in substance remains a commando soldier who is constantly on the lookout to get the better of his unwary foe. Alongside, he is also now a politician of the general run who is, alternately, enamoured and scared of clerics in politics.

Both these traits, more of personality than of profession, show up in full measure in the Provisional Constitution Order and the Proclamation of Emergency that Musharraf issued on Nov 3. It was widely expected of him to act to circumvent, or that not being possible, defy the court order if it went against him.

But only a commando would have thought of a stratagem to avert the feared eventuality and at the same time to decapitate and divide the highest court of the land.

Gen Musharraf issued the PCO and proclaimed the emergency as the chief of army staff, and not as the president, so that he is not seen to be undermining a political system that he himself crafted, then nurtured for seven long years and which bears his personal stamp all the way. The two notifications of Nov 3 read together constitute nothing short of martial law.

But he refuses to describe it as such for the National Security Council he formed in the teeth of universal opposition was intended to block martial law for all times to come. The NSC was nowhere to be seen during the crisis nor met to applaud even after the event.

This is all about Musharraf being a commando of the army’s special elite group. He is also a latter-day modernist in politics who may like or loath clerics as the occasion demands but dreads them all the same.

The proclamation of emergency to which all the service chiefs and corps commanders are a party, but not the cabinet nor the NSC, has put in abeyance the entire Constitution. There is no ambiguity about it.

However, the PCO which is Musharraf’s sole handiwork as chief of army staff, keeps operative all such provisions of the Constitution that embody Islamic injunctions. Among the constitutional clauses specifically mentioned that remain in force is Article 260(3)(a), which is Pakistan’s own secular definition of who is, or is not, a Muslim.

The PCO in a manner curt and without qualms suspends all fundamental rights by which men live and breathe but does not risk the ire of the clerics on Ahmadis sneaking into the fold of Islam through the emergency door. And, imagine, Musharraf is the world fighter of extremism and torch-bearer of enlightenment at home.

The necessity and legality of the emergency will be long debated but the question of immediate and critical importance is how long will it last. The short and right answer would be as long, or as short, as it would take Musharraf, the commando, to persuade Musharraf, the politician, that his term as president of Pakistan for the next five years is secure.

Political parties so far have shown neither the will nor the inclination to build up popular pressure to force Musharraf to yield any ground.

The lawyers cannot do it alone even if they were to try. The demands of their profession are too compelling to sustain political protest for long.

Musharraf is shrewd enough to foresee that the current uneasy calm that has followed the initial outburst of anger and the universal condemnation of the way he has treated the judiciary will not last long.

The party propagandists hailing the emergency for saving the country and the plaintive information minister assuring Musharraf that he had written a new chapter in the history of democracy should be seen by him as no more than poppy talk.

Ministerial bravado apart, surely Musharraf realises that only elections and that too on January 15 and no later, will save his presidency and the country from falling apart. At this moment, the interests of the mainstream political parties and Gen Musharraf happily seem to coincide. After eight years, in the wilderness the parties that count would rather go to the hustings than take to the streets. And without new and solid political backing, Musharraf, too, knows he would not last in office either.

An unintended but welcome benefit flowing to the people out of the loss of their rights and the enormous, though not unprecedented, humiliation of the Supreme Court is that Musharraf secure in his office has acquired a vested interest in fair polls.

Apparently, he should have no reservations in working with any party or alliance of parties — mainstream, Islamist or nationalist. With the millstone of the sycophantic Q League no longer around his neck he should be gallant enough to face a bristling opposition led, very likely, by Shahbaz Sharif.

Surely, he will not miss the company of the Chaudhries of Gujrat or of Sheikh Rashid, the scion of Rawalpindi, who despite his cigar and swagger has carved a niche of his own in the capital’s street politics. Musharraf would be shooting himself in both feet — of the commando and the politician — if he were to be persuaded by the maulvis or Chaudhries to postpone the polls or to rig them. It would spell disaster for his career in politics and for democracy in the country.

As for the indignity heaped on the judges, the Supreme Court shall have to live with this scar too as it has with the deeper scar of Rafiq Tarar’s Quetta shuttle, the raid of goons on the court building and its warring benches of 1997. Just to refresh the public memory, the champion of today’s judicial integrity and independence and then the prime minister of Pakistan, Nawaz Sharif, gloated over all these sordid episodes 13 years ago. If the nation can get over the nostalgia of the times of Justices Cornelius and Kiyani, the Supreme Court of a kind would still be there.

The saddest thought arising in these sad times, however, is that while the soldiers and mercenaries alike are revelling in their triumph over the Supreme Court, one Fazlullah’s rabble has occupied Swat while all those whom Musharraf had empowered have vanished in the rarefied atmosphere of that picturesque valley.

The judiciary has indeed been humiliated but the state itself has been put to shame.

TRAGICALLY, few reputations have survived the first week of martial law. Fewer have been enhanced. Many images have taken a severe beating and many a popular icon has risked a fall in the people’s eye. It may be that the situation demands caution from politicians but the people cannot easily reconcile to this. Like always.

People watched with interest the negotiators from the two sides — those for the emergency declaration and those challenging it — weighing their options. Like a contestant in Tariq Aziz’s ‘Neelam Ghar’, vying for the highest prize, the PPP leader insisted that she could secure this award for the people. Are we finally seeing a shift on the part of Benazir Bhutto and her party that has the potential to fight the people’s case in the court of those who matter? Is it already too late? Has the opportunity been squandered? There was never any commitment to transformation, remember. The emphasis has been and perhaps shall remain on transition. The general may go, the president need not leave.

Benazir Bhutto’s rivals for the coveted post by the general’s side have reacted strongly to her moves. The rulers of Punjab continue to enjoy the freedoms that are denied to all others — even to Ms Bhutto’s Pakistan People’s Party which was barred from holding a rally in Rawalpindi on November 9. The past week Punjab Chief Minister Chaudhry Pervaiz Elahi shuttled between Gujrat and Yazman near Bahawalpur amid chants that wished this ‘future prime minister’ success. The PPP was and is his main target in the fight for a democratic order under President Pervez Musharraf.

There may still be time for redemption but the politicians did take their time before they showed their sympathy for the cause of the judiciary. Thus abandoned, the lawyers suffered under the brutal baton of the state in the most violent display of unbridled might in years. Scores were injured as the faithful in uniform took their battle inside the Lahore High Court.

The law-enforcers in plain clothes let loose terror on whosoever broke the silence within their range, reminding everyone that the change of garb did not necessarily signify an end to hostilities. When the circumstances so demand, a plainclothesman can be as prone to violence and as devastating as a uniformed official.

In the decisive initial phase the so-called emergency-plus solidified the divide between power politicians and lawyers. But there are, of course, those who are damned as politicians and equally damned as lawyers. The pack is led by Chaudhry Aitzaz Ahsan, who has the distinction of being the first one to be put behind bars after the imposition of emergency rule.

Aitzaz is a poet of sorts. Lodged in his prison cell he may still be hoping for the realisation of the dream that he had so simply enunciated many, many moons ago. ‘Jaagen ge zara dair say iss des ke baasi, Yeh khitta-i-Punjab hai Iran tau nahin hay’. (A while yet before they awake/ Punjab it is, not Iran) More than two decades later, there may be sparks here and there, but the uprising is still to materialise.

The leaders Aitzaz had once argued for are conspicuous by the absence of their politics. Pakistan Muslim League-N, the party which claims to hold sway over the province, was the first to be targeted in the Punjab police’s pre-emptive drive after the proclamation of emergency. Yet, the sheer temerity with which the PML-N surrendered to the regime once more, without staging even a single worthwhile demonstration even in their hometown, corroborates the earlier story about its inability to mobilise the masses. Meanwhile, since the imposition of emergency rule on November 3 — in fact the period since September 10 when Mian Nawaz Sharif was turned away at Islamabad airport — the impression has gained ground that the Sharifs are able vote hoarders, which is not quite the same as being mass leaders.

For the fillip provided by street power, the PML-N has for quite a number of years been heavily dependent on the cadres of the Jamaat-i-Islami, whose leaders the Sharifs have in turn rewarded with seats in the national and provincial assemblies.

The emergency clampdown seemingly came at an opportune moment for the Jamaat. When General Pervez Musharraf made the dreaded declaration, thousands of Jamaat activists were in attendance at a party convention in the suburbs of Lahore ready to be harnessed and channelled.

They stayed at a safe distance from the power centre in the Punjab metropolis, cleared their throats in protest and dispersed. Just like other mature politicians on the block, the Jamaat leaders now promise a campaign shortly.

In the absence of organised student unions, the ‘mummy-daddy kids’ going to the elite private sector schools have taken a lead over the politically motivated and trained youth force controlled by parties such as Jamaat-i-Islami.

While those enrolled at LUMS, FAST and BNU have exercised their right to protest by holding peaceful on-campus rallies, the college hostels supposedly filled with fearsome and committed right-wingers as yet wear a dormant look. Either their reign is fading or they have not been given permission to launch an all-out protest. It is strange but consistent with the Jamaat strategy of getting what they want through General Musharraf’s rule.

ACTING as chief of the army staff, Gen Musharraf has imposed a state of emergency in the country and issued a Provisional Constitution Order (PCO) that puts the Constitution in abeyance and authorises him to amend it as he might deem expedient.

This is martial law posing as an emergency. Had he acted as president, he would have had to act within the Constitution. He wanted to do things the Constitution did not allow. Therefore, he chose to act as the army chief because then he could make a coup, set the Constitution aside, and do whatever he wanted without having to answer to anyone.

Observers who anticipated the general’s move related it to the outcome of the petitions in the Supreme Court challenging his credentials as a candidate in the presidential election. Those anticipating that the court would invalidate his candidacy expected him to find ways of thwarting the court and keeping his job.

The proclamation of emergency contains an extended statement of the general’s reasons for taking this action. It opens with references to an increase in terrorist violence, but most of it is given to a listing of the higher judiciary’s alleged misdoings.

It says that some of the judges (presumably those of the Supreme Court) have been acting at ‘cross purposes’ with the executive and the legislature to the effect of weakening the government’s resolve and ability to combat terrorism. They have been interfering with the government’s policies and actions, adversely affecting the country’s economic growth and had crossed the bounds of judicial authority to appropriate functions belonging to other organs of the state.

They have ordered the release of militants, under arrest and investigation, who then went back to their terrorist activities. They insulted, humiliated and demoralised high-ranking officers belonging to police and intelligence agencies engaged in fighting terrorism. The proclamation gives the reader the impression that the judges had, perhaps unwittingly, become allies of the terrorists.

How to make the judges see reason? They had made a constitutionally mandated institution, the Supreme Judicial Council, inoperative, placing themselves above and beyond scrutiny and accountability. Something had to be done to restrain them.

In his television address to the nation Gen Musharraf said he had had a three-stage process in mind for returning the country to civilian rule and full democracy.

During the first stage (1999-2002) he ruled and made decisions. In the second (2002-2007) elected persons governed while he limited himself to overseeing their functioning. The third stage was to begin with the president’s election to be followed by general elections. The judges had botched up this stage. He had won the election, but they created problems for him. They would not allow his election to be notified and kept dragging the issue. They had thus blocked the way to the restoration of full democracy in Pakistan.

This is the general’s case. It has little to do with combating terrorism, for there is nothing his government can do now that it could not have done before. The claim that the judges frustrated his drive to eradicate terrorism cannot be taken seriously.

According to some observers, the proclamation was intended to forestall the Supreme Court’s possible voiding of Musharraf’s election. It was also intended to humble the court which in his perception was becoming extravagant and grasping. The Constitution, he said, did not provide a way of putting the court back in its place. That deficiency had to be supplied in some other way. The proclamation was in effect a coup against the Supreme Court.

We cannot be sure which way the court would have gone in the matter of the general’s eligibility to contest the presidential election. One has the impression, which his own lament that the judges had created problems for him would seem to confirm, that he thought a majority of the 11-member bench hearing the case would likely rule against him. The state of emergency was thus a ‘pre-emptive’ strike against the Supreme Court.

The general’s bill of accusations against the judges may be exaggerated. It is, for instance, not true that their determinations had slowed down the economy, paralysed the administration, or brought the country to a standstill.

But his grievances are not entirely unfounded. The judges had indeed gone overboard in invoking their suo motu jurisdiction. They trivialised it when they intervened, on their own initiative, in matters such as kite flying, wedding meals, arranged marriages of minors, violence against women, traffic jams, riots, criminal investigations, police brutality and unsound government policies. The Supreme Court and, following its example, the high courts had begun to usurp the executive’s authority and functions.

It is true that police officers, intelligence agencies and many other government functionaries act lawlessly and violate the citizen’s rights. When a wrong has been done the aggrieved party is surely entitled to redress. But redress is to be provided by relevant agencies. The Supreme Court is not the right agency in all cases.

It is true also that aggrieved citizens do not get redress in concerned quarters. Having heard of the recently attained judicial independence, they are coming to the higher courts in droves. A few weeks ago, several hundred homeless persons assembled outside the Supreme Court in the expectation that it would get them land and homes.

It is not improper for judges to take suo motu notice of cases in which some vital public interest is likely to be jeopardised. But this is an authority they should exercise only sparingly and with circumspection.

The great public support that the judges received following Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry’s suspension on March 9, and the high esteem in which the public came to hold them, would seem to have left them with an exaggerated notion of their reach. It was the resulting arrogance that led them to insult and humiliate high-ranking public officials. The latter, acting through their chief (General Musharraf), have struck back.

It is hard to say if the judiciary has been humbled or if it will recover from the hit it has taken. The majority of the judges in the Supreme Court and many of them in the high courts, who preferred integrity to continued employment, have left the ranks and gone home.

Those who remain may be the ones who are willing to function in reduced circumstances, and show ‘proper’ respect to other organs and functionaries of the state, their prerogatives and customary styles of conduct. It is not unlikely that Gen Musharraf will amend the Constitution to formalise limitations on the judiciary.The results of Iftikhar Chaudhry’s courageous defiance of authoritarianism, toils and sacrifices of the legal fraternity and the media people in defence of judicial independence, would seem to have been lost through premature and precipitous assertiveness. Premature in that it came at a time when the social infrastructure capable of sustaining it had not yet fully developed. We cannot say when another Iftikhar Chaudhry and another lawyers’ movement will arise again.

Now that bumps in the road have been fixed, one may wonder how the third stage in the general’s drive for the restoration of democracy will proceed. He says he would want the elections to be free and fair and held on schedule. This is a resolve the nation will surely support.

The writer, professor emeritus at the University of Massachusetts, US, is currently a visiting professor at the Lahore School of Economics.

anwas@lahoreschool.edu.pk