WHAT for days looked inevitable has happened. The general had clearly overstayed his welcome, like his predecessors.

That he left with some, even if threadbare, dignity must now be thanked as the saving grace in the whole sordid episode. It could have been messier.

Mr Pervez Musharraf’s has been a reign of error from the word go, as it were. It started with high drama in the skies and ended with a very reluctant, dragging drop scene under the media’s glare. When he was put in office, in absentia, by his faithful lieutenants in khaki, he was received surprisingly well by the people. He could have banished Mr Sharif, as he did, held elections and led his forces back to the barracks in a very honourable way. Then, over eight years later and despite the political circus he presided over, he had another chance to step down with much more dignity on Feb 18 after the people had spoken once again, this time against him. But that was not to be.

There was an uncanny contrast between the speech he made in Oct 1999 and the last one yesterday. The only constant all these years that Mr Musharraf stuck to was his penchant to hog the limelight. He was the least camera-shy of leaders, and predictable only in his unpredictability.

The long list of achievements he enumerated as his last hurrah, not exactly in order of importance, sounded like it was a shower of all that was good and prosperous that came and went. The khuda hafiz he bade betrayed the adieu of a defeated man. It’s a shame that despite his achievements as a once popular leader and the face the world had come to know Pakistan by he should have been his own undoing. The man was never the evil he had come to be portrayed as by his opponents, especially in his last year in office.

Mr Musharraf’s unravelling lay in his own actions which did not always match the words he pledged. A fair accountability regime that he promised in 1999 was never put in place. The transition to democracy overseen by him was a manipulated affair. The promising devolution plan was made unworkable by subjecting it to the cronies he installed in the provincial administrations. While the ‘enlightened moderation’ policy saw some of the laws repugnant to women being amended to the latter’s benefit, it was also blemished by the scandalous handling of rape cases by the president himself.

The last government and parliament under Mr Musharraf had little credibility and even less power to think and legislate without a nod from the presidency. While action was pledged against growing extremism in parts of Fata, the Lal Masjid monster was allowed to spread its tentacles in the capital itself. It was finally taken on with brute force, which needn’t have been the case if not only the declared intent but also the will to arrest extremism was put to practice. The same can be said about menaces like the Masood Azhars, the Sufi Mohammads, the Baitullah Mehsuds, and many banned but alive and kicking sectarian outfits.

Where the freedom the media came to enjoy under Mr Musharraf’s presidency was praised, it was also the subsequent gagging of the somewhat infantile electronic media organs that came in for public censure. The way the judicial crisis was created out of the blue and then clumsily handled by the presidency also left the nation shocked. The key people and the parties the president patronised brought more than a fair share of the damage he ended up doing to his reputation.

The ill-advised chase unto death of Nawab Akbar Bugti in Balochistan, the Chaudhries’ crackdown against dissenting civil society members in Punjab and the May 12 mayhem in Karachi, all of which Mr Musharraf publicly praised, were steps that led to his growing isolation.

The so-called reconciliation process the president started with the late Benazir Bhutto also backfired when the lady, after staging her mammoth but bloody welcome home from self-imposed exile, complained that all was not above board with the general. To the public as spectator, her contention that she was made to feel insecure was borne out by her tragic fate.

What followed the presidential action of Nov 3 last year was sheer madness. Mr Musharraf’s belated doffing of his military uniform on Nov 28 was seen as a concession that came as too little, too late. By the time it happened, only Ms Bhutto was able to claim the credit for forcing Gen Musharraf to do what he had actually pledged and fulfilled. The subsequent posturing of the presidency in the aftermath of Bhutto’s killing, the destruction of evidence at the venue and allegations by her party coloured the public mood until Feb 18.

By fixing blame on the president for everything, from bad law and order to insurgencies in Balochistan and the northwest, from inflation to the power crisis and staple food shortages, Mr Nawaz Sharif got quite a windfall in terms of the public mandate. The judicial crisis was not the only wave he now rode. Mr Musharraf had come to symbolise all that had gone wrong with the country by the time he was prevailed upon to bow out.

His legacy is one of many an ambivalent trend in the short but over-active history of the country. The record economic growth in recent years, which averaged over five per cent in the aftermath of 9/11 in particular, will be a challenge to match and improve upon by those who follow him. It would help immensely to build upon the good the general did to society even as he reigned and committed the many errors he did. There is no doubt that the opening up of society, building of industrial, urban and fiscal infrastructure, industrial and information technology developments and attracting foreign investment, for example, saw a boost under President Musharraf. The key would lie in doing what a leader pledges, and then leave himself to be judged by the people.

Mr Musharraf’s departure from the rowdy political scene should now leave the ruling coalition with little excuse to drag its feet on the many issues confronting Pakistan and its people. If ever democracy was allowed to run its course, it is now. The hope is that the elected leaders Mr Musharraf has bequeathed his much wronged Pakistan live up to the challenges before them.

AS we emerge from eight years of dictatorship, two pictures stand out. In October 1999, soon after the Nawaz Sharif government was overthrown, Brig Rashid Qureshi, spokesman for the military government, came on television and declared, “We don’t want sham democracy, we want real democracy.

“We want a government that is of the people, by the people, for the people.” I found it surreal for a man in military uniform using Abraham Lincoln’s hallowed words and having no qualms about doing so.

The second picture is of an interview a few months ago. Mushahid Hussain, secretary-general of the PML-Q, was asked whether Gen Musharraf would give up his uniform. “Yes, he would,” he said, adding, “General Musharraf looks dashing in military uniform and Mr Musharraf would look dashing in a designer suit.”

Although eight years apart the two statements give us a rare glimpse of how the minds of dictators and those around them work. Understanding this is important if we are to prevent future misadventures by would-be Bonapartists.

Today, millions of Pakistanis live in abject poverty eking a living for mere existence. Millions are unemployed and underemployed. Millions remain without healthcare and education. Millions are subjected to the indignity of being treated in government hospitals. They have no security. They have no laws to protect them. Where there are laws it is only to protect the rich and powerful.

What are we to make of rulers who tell us that only they know what is good for the country? That the rest of us — academicians, economists, scholars, lawyers, judges, doctors, engineers, teachers, students, retired senior military officers and diplomats and other members of civil society — are ignorant mortals who know nothing about the dangers facing this country or how to tackle them? That democracy is not good for us? That they know how much the people love them? And that they will know when the time is right for them to step down?

More importantly, what goes through the mind of dictators and those who hold real power in Pakistan, as they see the abysmal state of affairs of the country? Quite clearly they see the situation very differently from the way that the man in the street does. While both may agree that the existence of the country is seriously threatened, dictators feel they are the only ones who can save it. They see politicians as tried and failed, corrupt and greedy with lust for wealth and power.

Clearly, there is something seriously wrong with their thought processes.

A dictator’s thinking is severely restricted and he suffers from selective listening. He has a very narrow vision. He cannot live with dissent. Dictators tend to be liberal as long as you agree with them. Any serious opposition and they crush it, never mind the democratic intent. The media is treated like an animal in a zoo — tolerated in confined spaces. The moment it tries to get out, it is firmly put back in the cage. They do not trust anyone beyond a small and close group of people who feed them only with information they want to hear. Their whole perspective is based on this narrow line of information.

When asked when he would step down, our retired general famously replied, “I will go when I realise the people don’t want me”. When asked how he would know, he replied, “I have my sources of information”. These sources of information are close aides who feed them the information they want to hear. Dictators have no idea how unpopular they are or that the vast majority of people do not want them. But it is important to understand they actually mean what they say.

This type of thinking is verging on delusion. Many dictators also suffer from paranoia, a feeling that others are against them and must be eliminated. Hitler showed many traits of paranoia, as did Stalin and Saddam Hussein. It makes them more and more isolated and insular and as they near their political demise they become more and more bizarre — both in their thinking and behaviour. We have countless examples of dictators and their strange behaviour — Idi Amin of Uganda, Mugabe of Zimbabwe, Duvalier of Haiti and Marcos of the Philippines are a few examples.

Some of the responses we have heard from our own retired general reflects this line of thinking. The hosing down of Benazir’s assassination site was ‘inefficiency’, Benazir was ‘unpopular with the army’, the West is ‘obsessed with democracy’, while the response to a senior London-based journalist who asked a few uncomfortable questions was that it was a good idea to have a couple of people fix him.

A dictator’s military background, particularly if he has had special training (special forces, survival course, commando training, etc.) makes it difficult for him to think otherwise. It makes him rigid in his approach with a ‘never surrender’ attitude. To him every encounter is a battle and the enemy must be vanquished. Using terms such as ‘tactical’, ‘strategic’, ‘mission’, ‘operational’ and ‘campaign’ even when discussing issues that have nothing to do with the military are indicative of this. You can take a man out of the army; you can never take the army out of the man!

Even a dictator’s physical appearance is important. Dictators frequently try to look younger than their years. This also contributes to their self-image and ego. Imagine if dictators stopped dyeing their hair. White haired, they would look very different and their whole appearance would undergo a drastic change. Mushahid Hussain’s statement was a rare glimpse into how ‘yes men’ praise their masters, making them even more egoistic and in the process, more reckless.

Unfortunately, it is almost impossible to change this line of flawed thinking, as dictators do not think there is anything wrong with their way of thinking. Hence most dictators are removed — either violently or forced out. This is what history teaches us. Let there be no doubt about it. Those who doubt this need only remember Aug 18, 2008.

The author is a consultant psychiatrist.

muradmk@gmail.com

GEN Pervez Musharraf has left the presidential office under pressure from the leaders of the two political parties that won impressively in the elections of Feb 18 but have performed poorly in office.

They have allowed the economy to slide on a very slippery slope. On Aug 13, a day before Pakistan’s 61st birthday, the rupee declined by 2.5 per cent against the dollar, the sharpest fall ever since the value of the currency was allowed to be fixed by the markets.

Fiscal deficit continues to increase with no indication by the government as to how it would be controlled. The leaders who occupy positions of power had earlier indicated that they would turn to the economy once they had ushered Musharraf out of the presidency.

Strongman rule doesn’t work for economic development in a country in Pakistan’s situation. This has been tried in the past but produced good results only over short periods of time. This happened for several reasons of which two are worth emphasis. The period of military domination of Pakistani politics coincided with the United States’ strong strategic interest in the area in which Pakistan is located. That resulted in close relations between Washington and Islamabad which, in turn, led to large flows of American aid to the country. That helped Pakistan’s economic growth since it had not been able to increase domestic resource generation to pay for investment.

The second reason for high rates of growth during periods of strongman rule was the policy continuity they offered. Investors, particularly those located outside the country’s borders, don’t like to see surprises in the policy framework in which they are operating or are planning to operate. They make their calculations about returns on investment in the expectation that no significant change will occur in the assumptions they have built into their projections. There was remarkable continuity in economic policies during the two 11-year periods when Generals Ayub Khan and Ziaul Haq were in charge.

This was less so in the eight years of rule by Gen Pervez Musharraf. There were significant changes in policy stance in 2002-07 compared to that adopted during 1999-02 when the country was operating under an IMF programme. That said there was no change in economic leadership. One man dominated economic policymaking during the entire period and that gave comfort to the investors.

Strongmen may have been good for the economy over the short run. They, however, did it harm over the long run. The most troubling aspect of their rule has been the lack of respect for institution-building. Economists now recognise that good and working institutions are as important for development as investment of capital and human resource development.

Of the four military presidents in Pakistan’s history the only one who built institutions was Ayub Khan who set up organisations in the area of economic management while strengthening those that already existed. He also allowed policymaking to be subjected to carefully articulated processes. When economists talk about institutions they don’t refer only to organisations. They put an equal amount of emphasis on formal and informal relationships among people and social and economic groups. Ayub Khan’s system of governance encouraged the development of these kinds of relationships.

Once again in its history, Pakistan stands at the crossroads. For the last six months, the country had been struggling to define a democratic order under which it can operate. The movement was slow and chaotic.

On the other hand, the economy is suffering one of its worst downturns ever and there is growing anxiety that it may simply spin out of control. Then there is the concern with the situation in the tribal belt bordering Afghanistan where a small band of extremists have been able to keep the government at bay. The United States is no longer pushing the country towards democracy, disillusioned with the consequences this pressure has produced in Palestine and Lebanon.

Will President Musharraf’s departure help to establish democracy, strengthen the institutions of governance and bring relief to the economy? The few months the new leaders have guided the affairs of state don’t provide much hope and don’t suggest that the end of one-man rule will automatically bring political and economic relief to the country. What is worrying is that people are losing confidence in the belief that the leaders they elected are up to the task. What should the leaders do to put the country on the right track?

There are several things that need to be done, and done urgently. Three of these are particularly important. The first is to establish the authority of the civilian government over the military. A recent report in The New York Times filed from Colombo after the meeting of the prime ministers of Pakistan and India quotes a number of senior Indian officials talking about their frustration with a “rudderless Pakistan”. According to one, “the real power is so far away from the structures the world deals with” that it is difficult to know whether promises made will be carried out.

However, it will take time and lot of institution-building before power can reside with the civilian leaders. It will require confidence-building including demonstrating to the military commanders that the civilian leadership has the capacity to deal with the country’s myriad problems. The army’s disengagement will not happen suddenly. This has been well demonstrated in the case of Turkey. The civilians will have to strengthen the institutions needed to interact with the military starting first with the National Security Council.

The second area in which action is needed is to develop a power centre that is separate from the military. The most obvious place where power should reside is the legislature. The executive branch of the government headed by the prime minister should derive authority from the legislature. At this time authority is wielded by two individuals who are not present in the National Assembly. This can’t be good for the development of democratic institutions.

The third area is the grant of greater autonomy to the provinces so that policymaking does not get stuck in a cul-de-sac when politicians working in Islamabad are unable to resolve their differences.

The important point of this argument is that former President Musharraf’s departure will not usher in nirvana. A great deal of work remains to be done.

THE political demise of the president of Pakistan will have repercussions well beyond the humid corridors of Islamabad.

Last week, violence flared up throughout Pakistan: suicide bombers struck in the east, hundreds died as the army launched new offensives against radical Muslim militants, 100 or so miles to the west, there were riots across the border in Indian Kashmir and bombs, and the customary rockets and battles in Afghanistan.

“It is clear that we are on the brink of a major change that goes well beyond the end of another cycle of civilian-military rule in Pakistan,” said one Islamabad-based western diplomat.

The changes in Pakistan over the past decade are manifest. This weekend tens of millions followed events on the country’s scores of new local language television channels — predominantly Urdu, the national tongue, but in minority Sindhi, Punjabi and Pashto, too. None existed a decade ago. The vociferous and hugely popular talk shows have politicised swaths of the population.

For those without televisions, the now ubiquitous ‘one rupee a minute’ mobile phones will act as a secondary conduit of information. In the growing cities — a recent study revealed that more than 50 per cent of Pakistanis now live in towns of more than 5,000 people — the effects of the long economic boom of the Musharraf years has broadened the middle classes. The irony is that Musharraf instigated the changes, such as the liberalisation of the media and the economy, that have led to his downfall.

The 65-year-old general took power nine years ago in a bloodless coup, ousting Prime Minister Sharif.

The summer of 1999 had seen a series of corruption scandals breaking around Sharif and his family, a short, vicious and disastrous war with India in Kashmir, and an economy in freefall. One by one Sharif and his cronies corrupted, co-opted, imprisoned, exiled or intimidated almost all who could act as constraints on their power.

But when Sharif attempted to replace Musharraf, the head of Pakistan’s immensely powerful military, he went too far. As the general circled in a passenger jet above Karachi, forbidden to land and running out of fuel, loyal army commanders moved swiftly to secure the country.

“The Pakistani Army always has updated plans for a war in Kashmir, for an Indian invasion, and for taking control of government,” one retired senior officer said recently. “We just dusted off the right file and it was over in hours.”

Sharif was arrested, tried for treason and exiled to Saudi Arabia. He made no secret of his desire for vengeance. Eight years later it looks he has got it.

The coup had broad domestic support and Musharraf found himself back in international favour after the 9/11 attacks when, after some deliberation, he pledged his support in the ‘war on terror’. A flood of diplomatic, military and financial aid followed. And until spring last year, Musharraf seemed unassailable.

The threat to Musharraf came from two directions. The first was from the Islamic militants.

The surge of militant violence was partly a result of the fallout from the war on terror globally although incompetence also played a large part. Demoralised soldiers or policemen were sent repeatedly against enemies they were ill-equipped to fight, in campaigns with little strategic direction or consistency.

Overseas, the president appeared incapable of fighting even Pakistani militants, let alone the Taliban or Al Qaeda, which had based itself in the country he supposedly governed. American officials asked themselves if he really was the right man to be receiving billions of dollars of aid.

Here a second shift in Pakistan in recent years was important: the reassertion of a more confident and aggressive national and religious identity, which translates into a much less deferential attitude to the West.

The other threat to the former president came in the unlikely shape of Pakistan’s lawyers. Their protest was sparked when Musharraf moved to suspend the chief justice last year — a big mistake. Protests spread as for the first time, Pakistan’s middle classes turned against the man they had once supported. A manipulated election, a state of emergency and a continuing crackdown on the media brought reinforcements from journalists and intellectuals. A new ‘civil society’ movement appeared.

The two major parties, the PPP and the PML-N, recognised the need for uniting against the common enemy. But, given the changes in Pakistan, it seems likely that Sharif will be the long-term winner. And in a democracy the government reflects the culture, the attitude and the beliefs of the people. They may not be those the West hoped to see.

— The Guardian, London