Signs of reforms in the army

MILITARY leaders unlike politicians do not have their track records scrutinised once they reach their first vital milestone of spending 100 days in office.

Part of the difficulty in carrying out such an independent assessment comes from the absence of transparency surrounding each action taken by the chief of army staff, in view of security constraints which drive the confidentiality tied to the job.

It is, therefore, impossible to prepare an accurate report card for General Ashfaq Kayani, the recently appointed chief of army staff, who is about to hit his 100 days mark soon and whose taking up the job finally returned the Pakistan army to being run by a full-time boss, eight years after President Pervez Musharraf seized power in a bloodless coup and began yet another controversial journey taken by a military ruler.

However, in spite of the transparency question, there is enough evidence — anecdotal and otherwise — to draw hope from General Kayani’s recent actions, coming at a time when Pakistan’s internal security conditions are up against a rapidly mounting security challenge.

The country’s political disarray which has progressed rapidly in the past year as President Pervez Musharraf has gone from one ill-advised action to another, will not go away easily or indeed anytime soon. The consequent fallout will draw all the energies of the Pakistani state including the military into picking up the pieces when the proverbial dust settles after this unending storm.

Areas in northern Pakistan, once a delight for honeymooners, are now in danger of being ruled by hardcore militants who prefer to assert their authority through the barrel of a gun rather than yield to the rule of law.The firefights in the NWFP should be enough to give sleepless nights to any ruler, let alone give one the comfort to undertake a nine-day European tour — recently the subject of some of the latest of the many faux pas of Mr Musharraf.

To General Kayani’s credit, early signs suggest he is moving ahead to begin at least some reforms in the Pakistan army. The order to withdraw all serving officers from civil institutions and to ‘civilianise’ agencies such as the Frontier Works Organisation (FWO) and Special Communications Organisation (SCO) are more significant than mere symbolism. Though the end to the military’s role in such developmental agencies does not immediately resolve the discord surrounding civil-military relations, Gen Kayani’s action could be the first of more to come in turning the Pakistan army into a dedicated full-time function of dealing with the mounting insecurity challenging the country.

A recent reminder to military officers that they are code-bound and, therefore, effectively banned from making contact with politicians is another welcome point. Though not a new provision for the conduct of military men, Mr Musharraf’s excessive involvement in politics, while he served as military chief, effectively ignored what ought to have been a fundamental and strict divide between the country’s civilian and military institutions.

But the pièce de rèsistance must be a two-line statement from the military just in the past week which simply stated that the “conduct of elections as per the constitution is the sole responsibility of the election commission and the army will not be involved in the election process”.

Is this Gen Kayani’s way of asserting the political neutrality of his military during the upcoming elections? Is he now stepping away from the morass of Pakistani politics as Mr Musharraf’s position becomes increasingly beleaguered, mostly, if not entirely, as a result of his own doing? Such questions have been widely asked in the past week, prompting hope that the military under Gen Kayani will stay out of the coming make-up of Pakistan’s next political order. While the Pakistani military will take time to become a fully apolitical outfit, a new beginning faces at least three significant challenges.

First, the extent to which Gen Kayani successfully induces the support of the large bulk of Pakistanis for the military as the campaign up north becomes more intense will be crucial for safeguarding Pakistan’s vital security interests. At a time when scepticism runs high among Pakistanis regarding the way their country is run, public support for organs of the state including the military cannot be taken for granted.

Given that Gen Kayani was immediately preceded by President Musharraf as chief of army staff, the popular view is one which still asserts the importance of the link between the presidency and the GHQ. While the military’s establishment may well respond to such criticism by emphasising its commitment to professionalism, popular opinion will remain adverse for as long as Mr Musharraf remains not only the president but indeed one of Pakistan’s most controversial leaders.

Second, Mr Musharraf’s multifaceted legacy will remain not only at the centre of the challenges faced by Pakistan, it will also be the focal point of those faced by the military. A part of this legacy is the president’s oversight of the way an existing administrative order across Pakistan was brutally destroyed, all in order to usher in a new progressive era based on the devolution of power. The devolution plan, however, has become a nasty piece of work, giving rise to a period of far more rampant corruption at the grassroots than ever before.

For the military, the dangerous consequences of devolution cannot be easily missed. The administrative vacuum which has set in at the grassroots level across Pakistan now creates the danger of spreading a direct challenge to the authority of the state. Today, the proverbial internal war is taking place across the NWFP but tomorrow the same violence could well spread elsewhere in Pakistan, encouraged by the virtual absence of the writ of the state. Ultimately, the army under Gen Kayani will have to assess if it is indeed capable of dealing with every fire across Pakistan.

The answer to this compelling question must be an unqualified no. Any military including Pakistan’s armed forces with a combined strength of more than half a million are neither equipped nor able to deal with a rapidly growing internal security challenge. Irrespective of how much Mr Musharraf defends his obviously failing devolution order, the Pakistani military is in danger of being sucked into a crisis situation without the fundamental restoration of the state’s authority down the line.

Finally, Gen Kayani cannot remain aloof from the present political crisis that has ultimate consequences for the economy. Pakistan’s official economic gurus for too long have tried to mask the fundamental reality of an economy in deepening distress, in spite of statistical evidence to the contrary. A worsening economic outlook will undermine Pakistan’s future with far-reaching and tragic consequences for the military establishment.

On the one hand, rising gaps between the haves and the have-nots will continue to fuel violence and aid the proliferation of nasty situations. On the other, the military’s ability to deter Pakistan’s foes will suffer greatly as economic pressures eventually force cuts on a range of expenditures including defence spending.

General Kayani has begun his tenure on a potentially promising note. But his choices in the coming days will decide if the goodwill he has begun to earn will eventually be at risk of dissipating under the force of coming events.

The long road ahead

HISTORIANS disagree about which road got Pakistan to this juncture. Futurists disagree about the road that lies ahead. “The future, though imminent, is obscure,” to quote Winston Churchill.

More often than not, forecasts are wrong. And when they are right, it is often because of the wrong reasons. Even in the ‘hardest’ of the social sciences, economics, forecasting remains a hazardous exercise. Not only does one have to deal with the known unknowns, one also has to factor in the unknown unknowns.

Before we look at the long road ahead, let us take a step back in time. In June 2001, the Strategic Studies Institute of the US Army War College held a workshop in Washington on Pakistan’s long-term future. One of the scenarios on the table had been put forward the prior year by the US National Intelligence Council (NIC), an arm of the US Central Intelligence Agency. It painted a grim picture of Pakistan in the year 2015: “Pakistan will not recover easily from decades of political and economic mismanagement, divisive policies, lawlessness, corruption and ethnic friction. Nascent democratic reforms will produce little change in the face of opposition from an entrenched political elite and radical Islamic parties. Further domestic decline would benefit Islamic political activists, who may significantly increase their role in national politics and alter the make-up and cohesion of the military — once Pakistan’s most capable institution. In a climate of continuing domestic turmoil, the central government’s control probably will be reduced to the Punjabi heartland and the economic hub of Karachi.”

Such a grim vision could have been lifted out of William Golding’s Lord of The Flies. Superficially, it was contradicted by several decades of historical experience under Ayub and Zia. But as the following years would reveal, a high rate of economic growth that is not accompanied by an egalitarian distribution of benefits cannot mask the detritus of structural problems.

While Marxism is out of vogue, one of Marx’s precepts is not: if economic benefits do not flow to society at large, class conflict will follow. In Pakistan’s case, the problem is compounded by the dominance of the army in national affairs. And the dominance of a single province in the army provides the spark which inflames inter-provincial tensions. Furthermore, high economic growth brought about by large infusions of American aid is ephemeral. And in the post 9/11 environment, we have to deal with the wild card of terror, an indigenous creation which threatens to become our most well-recognised export.

Ongoing conflicts in Waziristan and now Swat belie Musharraf’s assertion that Al Qaeda is on the run. The operation against the Lal Masjid last July in the heart of Islamabad shows the extent to which the battle against the Taliban has been lost. Thus, the NIC scenario remains a distinct possibility.

The future is a tale with multiple endings or, in analyst lingo, a collection of scenarios, where each scenario is a statement of what outcomes will result when certain conditions materialise. While some of these conditions are not within the control of policymakers, some definitely are. Thus, the future is not predetermined. Wise choices can be used to overcome the negative effects of chance.

Depending on how its leaders play their cards, Pakistan can have futures that are much better or much worse than the NIC scenario. Here are five pathways to the future.

1. Bright. GNP growth at eight to nine per cent a year, allowing poverty levels to fall below 15 per cent of the population. Benefits of development are shared throughout society. This scenario could occur if the following conditions happen: investment rates of 40 per cent of GNP; fiscal surplus of two per cent of GNP; low levels of foreign debt; a liberalised economic system; inspired political leadership and governance; the virtual elimination of terrorism; foreign policy focused on cooperation and peace; and defence spending at two per cent of GDP.

2. Promising. GNP growth at six to seven per cent a year and poverty levels under 25 per cent. This scenario is likely if the following conditions prevail: an investment rate of 25 per cent; diminished income inequalities and regional disparities; foreign policy focused on cooperation and peace; occasional interludes of conflict with neighbouring powers; defence spending at four per cent of GNP; civilian government control; and containment of terror.

3. Ho-Hum. GNP growth at four to five per cent a year and poverty levels of around 35 per cent. This scenario is likely if investments are around 20 per cent of GNP; macroeconomic imbalances have been stabilised; national security is equated with military muscle; the Kashmir conflict is on the front burner; the army cannot wean itself from funding militant groups; sporadic military rule; and defence spending at six per cent of GNP.

4. Dark. Anaemic growth in GNP of three to four per cent a year barely sufficient to allow for growth in per capita income. Poverty levels exceed 50 per cent. This scenario is likely if investment rates fall below 15 per cent; macroeconomic imbalances are large; recidivist militarism and rising fundamentalism permeate the army; adventurism in foreign policy; defence spending at eight per cent of GDP; heightened inequalities in income distribution; civil discord; inter-provincial rivalries; intolerant religiosity; breakdown of law and order; institutional meltdown; soaring foreign debt, leading to bankruptcy; government unable to pay salaries to government workers; fractured national identity.

5. Doomsday. No growth in GNP and falling per capita income. Poverty levels above 75 per cent and dysfunctional public services. The army disintegrates into rival militias, each headed by a corps commander turned warlord. No semblance of law and order. Special interest groups stymie political decision-making. Leaders of tribes, clans and sects demand absolute loyalty. Rising inequalities of income propel terrorism. Militants acquire a nuclear weapon. This scenario becomes likely if investment rates fall under 10 per cent; macroeconomic imbalances exceed 10 per cent of GNP; and population grows faster than three per cent a year.

To get on the Bright or Promising pathways, Pakistan’s leaders have to reform not just the economy but also its polity and society. That is a tall order but without making fundamental changes in how the nation is governed, Pakistan will continue its descent into the hell depicted by NIC.

To avoid that outcome, Pakistan’s national security policies have to be reoriented away from confrontation with India. The existential threat to its polity arises not from the failure to acquire Kashmir but from the failure to deal with domestic problems that can be traced to the military’s desire to fight a proxy war against India.

The militants have to be defanged spiritually and physically. The first task has to be performed by the political and religious leadership and the second by the military, but a military that takes its cue from elected officials who have credibility with the people. This will require a complete reorientation of the military’s mission and the development of new course material at the military academies. It will also acquire the demilitarisation of Pakistani society, i.e., the withdrawal of serving and retired military officials from the civilian sector.

The writer specialises in defence and energy economics and is the author of ‘Rethinking the National Security of Pakistan’.

faruqui@pacbell.net

Faith and reason

“Mathematics possesses not only truth but supreme beauty — a beauty cold and austere, like that of a sculpture, without appeal to any part of our weaker nature, without the gorgeous trappings of music, yet sublimely pure and capable of perfection such as only the greatest art possesses.” — Bertrand Russell

FAITH is to reason about the abstract and reason is the faith in the concrete, and mathematics is the link between the concrete and the abstract, between reason and faith.

We begin with faith in the power of mathematics expressed by Galileo Galilei, who along with Descartes and Newton, was one of the founders of modern science. He said in 1623: “Philosophy is written in that great book which always lies open before our eyes, the universe. But it cannot be understood unless one learns to understand the language and to know the letters in which it is written. It is written in mathematical language and its letters are triangles, circles and other figures. Without these means, it is humanly impossible to understand a word of it, and it remains but an idle roaming through an obscure labyrinth.”

It was Galileo’s faith that nature could be understood and it could only be understood mathematically. The great mathematical science of nature, known to us, was at that time only in its infancy. A consistent mathematical theory of nature was still to come. Galileo could only express his faith that nature submits to mathematical treatment.

Faith, indeed, but a faith based on reason. By 1623, many successful mathematical applications had been made in astronomy, mechanics, cartography and navigation. In accordance with the sceptical spirit evoked by the Renaissance, Galileo’s faith was not based on authority, but was an extrapolation from the observation of facts, from personal experience, from philosophic insight. It was the type of faith which came to underlie all scientific progress — a faith that demands strengthening by constant rational verification.

The entire history of science has since vindicated Galileo’s faith. We are now accustomed to have a problem worked out on paper with formulas and then find atoms, liquids, gases, projectiles, planets and galaxies dance to our tune, and if they don’t, we know that there must be another explanation, or another mathematical formula.

Has faith been entirely replaced by reason based on facts? Is it old-fashioned to say that one of the mathematician’s articles of faith is the conviction that nature obeys laws and these laws can be formulated mathematically? Is this correspondence of formulas on a piece of paper with the phenomena of nature still a mystery, only to be approached by an act of faith?

Those who anchor their faith in reason rather than in mystery would prefer to look at Galileo’s faith in another way. They look at mathematics as an evolution in history. It began thousands of years ago as a study of space and of numbers: already at an early period, men measured with rope and stick, counted sheep and cattle and watched the stars.

Gradually man’s mind began to move along more daring paths. Mathematical knowledge increased. Study extended to complicated equations and logical systems. From the finite, man moved to the infinite, from concepts directly representative of the world, to the lofty structures of abstractions. Even more profound were his constructions and ever more subtle were his abstractions, until at present we hardly recognise the ancient origins of mathematics in space and number and rather define mathematics as the study of order and relation.

But does this mean that we have broken away from space and numbers and with them from nature and the world around us? Rather, our knowledge of nature has been refined. Therefore, we can understand more and more. We have found a key not only to the crude aspects of nature, we have also been allowed a glimpse into its intricate working. Mathematics is thus not such a pure exercise of the human mind, as a study of the relations existing in our universe. Not only is the law that five times five is 25 an expression of certain relations occurring in nature, even the more subtle laws of geometry, algebra, analysis and topology reflect the workings of nature.

In this statement, there still remains an element of faith. To many minds, this is heresy. Many mathematicians take pride in the freedom of creation offered in their field. Modern mathematics especially is the domain of liberty, with its rejection of ancient conventions: space need not be three-dimensional, numbers need not be real, axioms need not be expressions of direct experience.

However, this freedom does not lead us out of the universe: the new mathematics does find its often unexpected realisation in the recently discovered fields of physics, chemistry, astronomy and biology. So much so that mathematics cannot keep up with the demands made on it by the sciences.

At present, the difference between pure and applied mathematics has been narrowed to the extent that it is indistinguishable. What seems weird is that mathematics may well represent some very definite set of relations in some field of applied research. Especially when a mathematical theory is well-balanced, logically impeccable and aesthetically pleasing. Can we safely predict that it will be realised in some aspect of nature or society?

Take the example of the theory of complex variables, based on the square root of minus one. This number first appeared in the 16th century as the free invention of the human mind. It was called imaginary to indicate that it was made of the stuff that dreams are made of. Today, we know its close connection with rotation in the plane. The whole theory of alternating currents in electricity is based on it, and every electrical engineer is advised to study the theory of complex variables.

The freedom of a mathematician is not illusory. This freedom is the freedom of which Spinoza speaks: freedom is the knowledge of necessity i.e. you are free to the extent that you know your limitation. We have seen that faith and reason are inextricably linked. Faith is reinforced by reason and reason is propelled by faith. Whereas faith belongs to the realm of the unknown and the unseen, reason draws its sustenance from the known, the concrete and the experienced.

Mathematics is the link between the seen and the unseen; between the known and the unknown. The unknown cannot be understood without firmly grasping the known.

Mathematics is rooted in concrete reality, and, therefore, is capable of throwing its net around the pulsars and the quasars. It is quite capable of penetrating black holes. So long as the Muslim world is incapable of mastering mathematics, it will not be able to understand and grasp nature. Reason and faith must go hand in hand, each strengthening the other, thus casting the net around the stars, penetrating the secrets of nature, and harnessing them to our benefit.

Whither Islamabad?

WILL 500 years hence tourists be flocking towards the remains of the erstwhile capital of Pakistan, similar to the present massive influx in Fatehpur Sikri? This five-century old capital built by Akbar the Great was shifted 14 years after its inauguration as water resources were dwindling rapidly due to an ever-increasing population.

Islamabad will soon celebrate 50 years of its existence. But, what is there to show for it? The worst air pollution ever engulfed the city for weeks in 2007, while the increasing gutter fragrance, so common now in this capital of ours, filters through closed doors and windows. Warned are we that water shortage, constant load-shedding and low gas pressure will be upon us in full force this coming summer.

Although the highest number of foreign degree holders reside within its boundary no pressure group questions why ‘water tankers’ have become a permanent feature, nor are bans imposed by the CDA on the ever-increasing number of privately installed tube wells. Instead, the planners are fully supportive of the prevalent resistance of the upper strata of society to sacrificing personal comforts for the betterment of their surrounding.

Unheeded are the concerns of the early planners about keeping a balance in discharge versus the recharge of groundwater, and the CDA is adamant in accepting its responsibility as an effective service provider, as the development part of its title is more lucrative.

Visionary planning is unknown within CDA’s fold and it has surrounded itself with a corps of consultants to find a solution to the looming water crisis within its territory. Amazingly, this corps of specialists identified Pakistan’s lifeline, the River Indus, as the only salvation for the survival of the constantly expanding capital territory. They were unaware that the Indus Regulatory System Authority, situated right in the heart of Islamabad, could have provided them with details of the periodic seasonal crisis in this lifeline. Diverting water from this source would have reduced the power-generating capacity of Tarbela and Ghazi Barotha.

In retrospect, one can appreciate the British occupation force in Germany, who prior to establishing their cantonments made sure that the water sources would not run dry on them. Consideration was even given to not disturbing the supply system of local communities and that of the lower riparian, unbelievable for an occupation force. Could the fate of Fatehpur Sikri have played a decisive role in this decision, as most planned sites were in the midst of fertile landscapes? If so, why can our planners never learn from mistakes committed in the past, while erstwhile rulers seem to have gained from this exposure, at least on European soil?While in the West, global climate change is given serious thought, the CDA plans a chairlift right in the middle of the Margalla Hills, the only known watershed fully in its control and known as the ‘recharge of the groundwater table of the capital’. Conveniently, no data is accessible in its offices, which would provide details of this vanishing sweet groundwater. However, it is known that water drawn from 200ft is already contaminated. The CDA chairman dares to compare these hills to the Swiss Alps, readily ignoring the difference in climate between the two countries, besides cultural practices.

In the midst of this energy and water crisis, Jinnah Park is being prepared for the 22nd century, as one assumes that by that time all varieties of crises would be solved. Residents of adjoining sectors look at this park, replenished with imported exotic grasses, alien shrubs, plants and trees, requiring constant watering, when their water supply lines are empty. To further expose the crisis-burdened public to the CDA’s tremendous feat, each collection of plants is separately illuminated and one wonders if this could be the cause of load-shedding in the residential sectors.Islamabad could once upon a time certainly have been bracketed as a Green City. Today, unplanned expansion within and around the capital territory is rapidly reducing the vegetative cover. No federal or provincial planning department has shown concern over the horrendous development schemes in the Murree Hills. Vast stretches of undulating shrub land are being levelled making way for the new golf city that the king of Bahria Towns is blessing the twin cities with. A huge apartment block, encroaching right into the riverbed of the Korang river, feeding Rawal lake, the drinking water reservoir for Rawalpindi, prides itself on belonging to the offspring of the founder of Islamabad. These new development projects will be withdrawing the last drop of water that Pindi residents are already crying for.

Who in the erstwhile assemblies raised a voice of concern? And who of the future ones will take up this issue, when ‘wheels under the applications and files’ will continue to smooth out its path? Already, one hears the promise of one candidate from the Murree Hills that he will build a New Murree City, if he is elected.

So, adieu Islamabad, I am all for a mountain retreat, as no air-conditioning and fans are required, at least not for the next five years. By then, surely the slopes of Nanga Parbat will be stripped bare of vegetation and provide a haven for enterprising real estate developers. Further north we seekers of comfort shall move.