The idea of Pakistan

THERE cannot be any doubt that Pakistan is experiencing a difficult period. The crisis through which the country is passing in its sixth decade as an independent state is perhaps the most difficult it has seen in its exceptionally turbulent history.

The economy is in a state of freefall. It is hard to tell when and where it will stabilise. The political situation is defined by problems that show personal ambition prevailing over national interests.

It is hard to tell where this conflict will take the country. There is a war raging in the country’s northwest between the government’s forces and those who have an entirely different way of looking at the way Pakistani society and state should evolve.

The state’s response is understandably restrained. It does not wish to harm those who are caught for reasons of geography in the middle of this conflict. The other side, motivated by an ideology in which it places total faith, is not inhibited. On the international front, ‘contempt’ and ‘extreme unease’ are perhaps the best way to describe how the world sees Pakistan. How it would react to the development taking place in Pakistan is hard to predict especially when the reins of power will be transferred soon in Washington from one group of leaders to another.

As a student of Pakistan’s history — the evolution of its economy, its politics and its society — I have written extensively on this subject. I don’t recall a period that equals the present. Not even 1971 when the country was split into two. In its original form, Pakistan was perhaps a non-sustainable political creation. It was an artifact that responded to a particular situation that developed under the long British rule.

There is no reason why the two ‘wings’ of the country should have stayed together. The very fact that they were called ‘wings’ suggested that the country’s body existed somewhere else. They had more differences than commonalities. It was economics that made the two wings go their separate ways. The body to which these two wings were attached was Islam but that did not prove to be a strong cohesive force. But what about what is left of Pakistan after 1971, a union of fairly disparate people who are still searching for some common ground?

I was invited to participate in a workshop on Pakistan’s future in Washington a few weeks ago. An anthropologist of Indian origin raised the question about the ‘idea of Pakistan’, which was the theme of a recent book by Stephen Cohen of the Brookings Institution in Washington. According to him, the idea centred on the belief that a separate political entity was needed to protect the separateness of the Muslim community in British India. This was the basis of Mohammad Ali Jinnah’s two-nation theory according to which British India was inhabited not by one Indian nation but two, one Hindu, the other Muslim.

This notion was countered by what Anil Khilnani of Johns Hopkins’ School of Advanced International Studies (SAIS) calls the ‘idea of India’. According to this, the concept of nationhood in an extremely diverse South Asian populace should be based on shared history rather than shared culture or religion. Given these differences, the participant in the workshop posed a legitimate question: had the idea of Pakistan failed? She implied that the idea of India had succeeded.

Since the question was directed at me — one of the three Pakistani participants at the workshop — I responded by asking another question. I asked if states need an idea — whether we could find an ‘idea of Nigeria’, an ‘idea of South Africa’, an idea of ‘Malaysia’. My counter question as an answer drew a sceptical response. It was suggested that it was fair to raise that question for the states that were founded on the basis of ‘ideas’ rather than on that of colonial heritage.

Nigeria, South Africa, Malaysia — the three examples I had used — were all products of colonial history. The same is true for a number of countries in the Middle East. Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, Syria and Saudi Arabia are all the products of colonial history. They are not the consequence of ‘ideas’. Saudi Arabia may be an exception since its statehood does promote an ideology.

Given the current state of affairs in Pakistan, given some of the observations made in the opening paragraphs of this article, it is legitimate to ask the question: what is now the idea of Pakistan. Institutional economics — a relatively new discipline pioneered by Douglass North, the Nobel Prize-winning economist — postulates that a great deal of human activity is governed by what it calls belief systems. These systems are the product of historical accumulation. They are not static but, instead, are exceptionally dynamic. How would I apply this reasoning to the case of Pakistan?

The creation of Pakistan was indeed based on an idea — Jinnah’s two-nation theory — but many years have elapsed since that postulate was first put forward. The concept that Pakistan was needed to preserve the separate identity of the Muslim community of British India, may not have worked to keep together the two wings of the country that were attached to the body of Hindu India. But history produces its own imperatives.

Jinnah’s two-nation theory is now 70 years old. It resulted in the partition of British India and the creation of two separate political entities. One of those split into two and what was once British India is now three separate states with their own histories and their own imperatives. Two of them — Bangladesh and Pakistan — are still searching for answers that would help them forge the meaning of nationhood. How should Pakistan define itself at this critical juncture in its history?

Notwithstanding the bloody campaign launched by some stateless groups, religion can’t be the basis of Pakistan’s nationhood. There are too many different interpretations of what can be called an Islamic state for Pakistan to risk its future on that concept.

For the same reason, ethnicity can’t be the defining concept. We have to be pragmatic: we need to define the Pakistani identity and the Pakistani idea on the basis of geography rather than on the basis of culture and religion. What is Pakistan today is a piece of real estate occupied by more than 2.5 per cent of world’s population that must find a way of pursuing economic, political and social objectives that serve the entire citizenry. This is the only way forward.

Flattery and its victims

Power and superiority are so flattering and delightful, that, fraught with temptation, and exposed to danger, as they are, scarcely any virtue is so cautious, or or any prudence so timorous, as to decline them. — Samuel Johnson

THUS we find that throughout history flattery has been a powerful instrument and tool to transform an individual from a state of virtual non-existence to one that is powerful and authoritative.

As soon as an individual assumes power, he changes dramatically from an ordinary and obscure person to a famous and reputed one and becomes a paragon of virtue. His past is ignored and his present position turns him into a hero. He is immediately elevated to the high pedestal of fame and glory.

Consequently, he is so intoxicated by flattery that he starts believing himself to be the saviour and deliverer of the nation, a divinely guided leader and a man who possesses extraordinary qualities to solve all kinds of problems. He is regarded as the chosen one who can guide the nation along the path of prosperity and security. He is assured by his cronies that he is loved by the people more than anyone else. They convince him that they are his sincere and true friends and ready to sacrifice their lives for him.

The person is so taken in by those intellectuals, officials and friends who shower praise on him that he, in return, patronises them and offers them all kinds of benefits. As they get all types of benefits from their patron, they make an attempt to keep him in power. They fully know that his decline will spell the end of their privileges.

The reality is that his flatterers are not praising him as a person but as someone who has authority and the power to give concessions to his cronies. However, this reality comes as a shock to the person when power slips from his grip. As soon as the individual loses power as a result of political change or a coup, he finds him in isolation, bereft of any support or sympathy from the former sycophants. He reverts to his position of an ordinary individual. All glorifications which were attached to his name disappear in no time.

Such a person is humiliated and insulted by the media, intellectuals and bureaucrats who were once around him. Everybody is ready to thrash him for what he has done in the past and focus on how he misused his power and how involved he was in corruption. Under these circumstances, such fallen leaders prefer to spend the rest of their life in exile rather than in their own country.

We have a number of examples in our recent history where powerful individuals declined to an insignificant position and were left alone to live on past memories. When Ayub Khan carried out his coup in 1958, he suddenly emerged as an extraordinary man. He was profusely admired as the man who could lead the nation to progress and advancement. He was called the ‘De Gaulle of Asia’.

An experienced general and mature statesman, he was advised by Z.A. Bhutto to assume the title of ‘field marshal’ to distinguish himself from other generals. Pir Ali Mohammad Rashdi even suggested that he become king of Pakistan. Surrounded by flatterers he started to believe that he was the person who could deliver the nation from turmoil and crisis.

In his last days when he was losing popularity, his cronies continued to tell him that he was still popular among the people. It is said that to mislead him they provided him cuttings of newspapers which were in his favour.He remained ignorant of the criticism and condemnation surrounding his policies. When he resigned under pressure, there was jubilation. He silently retired to his home village where he died like an ordinary person. There was no national mourning, no tribute to him.

His successors had the same fate. Yahya Khan after his retirement became the butt of sarcasm. His scandalous lifestyle was condemned by everybody. He is remembered in history as the man responsible for the secession of East Pakistan. When he died, few people took note of his death. Ziaul Haq who was praised as mard-i-momin is now remembered as the man who patronised religious extremists in the country and violated all constitutional provisions in order to fulfill his political goals.

The fact of the matter is that men of power like flattery because it satisfies their ego and they are conscious about their personal qualities. It makes them feel taller than others. There is a price to be paid for this when they fulfill the demands of their minions, who trap them in their net of flattery. According to the writer Leo Tolstoy: “Even in the warmest, friendliest and simplest of relations, flattery or praise is needed just as grease is needed to keep the wheel going round.”

Wills Goth Regier in his book In Praise of Flattery enumerates the dangers of flattery and how it is lethal, to a person who is praised. According to him, it is like a drug that because of its addictive powers causes a person to lose his senses; it is a disease which makes a person fatally sick; it prevents the man of power from hearing any bad news; it increases intolerance to criticism; and it abets arrogance. The result is that the man of power is lost in the labyrinth of flattery and becomes a prisoner surrounded by a circle of flatterers.

Zimbabwe deal

“WE have a deal,” said Morgan Tsvangirai, leader of Zimbabwe’s Movement for Democratic Change (MDC), last week. President Robert Mugabe, who has ruled the country with an iron hand for the past 28 years, will still head the cabinet, but it will contain one more member from the opposition than from Mugabe’s ZANU-PF party. Tsvangirai will be prime minister, chairing a newly created Council of State that ‘supervises’ the cabinet.

Nobody knows what that means, but it is obviously an unworkable arrangement. The crucial question is who controls the security forces, and the real answer to that, even if the deal gives day-to-day control of the police to the MDC, is Mugabe. Zimbabwe’s senior army and police officers are bound to Mugabe by hoops of steel, for the many murders they have committed to keep him in power would not be pardoned by any successor regime. Unless, of course, an amnesty for all that killing is a secret part of the deal.

That would change a lot of things, for the army and police high command could then see a future for themselves past the end of Mugabe, and might no longer be unconditionally on his side. South African President Thabo Mbeki, the mediator who has structured this deal, knows that such an amnesty would help to ease Mugabe gradually out of power while preserving his dignity — and keeping ZANU-PF in power.

Those have been Mbeki’s goals all along. Although he is almost two decades younger than the 84-year-old Mugabe, they both belong to the ‘independence generation’ of southern African leaders who led the struggle against white minority rule. Mugabe has wrecked Zimbabwe’s economy, ordered the killing of tens of thousands of its citizens, and driven one-quarter of the population abroad as economic refugees — but in Mbeki’s eyes he still deserves respect for his historic role.

That made Mbeki a very poor choice as mediator in the eyes of the opposition, but South Africa is the regional superpower, so if Mbeki wants the job, he gets it. The Southern African Development Community and the African Union, the two regional organisations with some say in the matter, were hardly going to tell him to step aside. The outcome of his mediation reflects these facts.

This is very difficult for the Zimbabwean opposition, that won a parliamentary majority in the election last March. Tsvangirai also beat Mugabe by a clear margin in the presidential vote, even after all the intimidation and ballot-box stuffing by the regime. However, since Tsvangirai fell slightly short of 50 per cent of the votes when the regime announced the results of the presidential election (almost a month late), he was forced into a run-off against Mugabe in June.

The regime mobilised the ZANU-PF party’s various militias, backed by the army and police, to kill or terrorise enough MDC supporters to win the second vote. Several hundreds were murdered, and several hundreds of thousands were driven from their homes. Tsvangirai withdrew from the second round of the election a few days before the vote to avoid further bloodshed, since the regime was clearly going to announce a ZANU-PF victory anyway, and Mugabe was duly ‘re-elected’ president in an unopposed vote.

In the circumstances, the MDC’s wariness about any negotiated power-sharing deal was understandable, especially given the mediator’s obvious bias. “What we got at the end of the day was nearly a sister-sister power-sharing, so it’s not exactly what we wanted initially,” said Lovemore Moyo, MDC chairman and the newly chosen parliamentary speaker. “We are ready and prepared to work for Zimbabweans without reservations, but obviously you have to be careful when you work with a party like Zanu-PF.”

So what calculation can have led Tsvangirai, Moyo and the other MDC leaders to accept a deal that leaves Mugabe as president and at the head of the cabinet? They don’t trust Mbeki, because they know that he does not want the MDC to end up in power regardless of what Zimbabweans think. Were they pressured into the deal? Could they see no alternative except civil war?

Maybe, but not necessarily. If a secret amnesty for the crimes committed by the military and police is part of the deal, then their need to keep Mugabe in power evaporates. And Thabo Mbeki has to relinquish the presidency of South Africa next year, so after that the neighbourhood giant will no longer be determined to protect Mugabe and keep ZANU-PF in power.

Mbeki’s successor is already known. It is Jacob Zuma, who has openly condemned Mugabe and criticised Mbeki’s handling of the situation. The decision of a South African court that corruption charges against Zuma were politically motivated and could not proceed clears the final obstacle from his path to the presidency — and when he is running South Africa, the regional balance of forces will shift radically in the MDC’s favour.

So the Zimbabwean opposition has accepted an unsatisfactory deal now in the hope that next year will bring more. Since Zimbabwe desperately needs foreign economic aid and definitely does not need continued political paralysis or civil war, it was a responsible decision. Whether it is the right decision, nobody yet knows.