PAKISTAN is no stranger to turbulence. But the uncertainty and frustration now stalking the land are virtually without precedent. These stem from a variety of causes: back-breaking inflation (for the poor, that is, the rich couldn’t care less), the bankruptcy of trickle-down economics and, with the president refusing to shed his uniform, the spectre of political instability.

Far from being conscious of this discontent, the ruling set-up is living in a dream world of its own, its leading lights saying things and spouting wisdom utterly divorced from reality.

Sample the latest offering from the supreme commander: “If people want my leadership, they should cast vote (sic) in favour of my supporters. The day people withdraw their support, I will quit the corridors of power.” Coming from him this is rich. It takes a fair amount of audacity to presume upon the support of the masses. Why not test this popularity theory by venturing out of uniform and contesting elections? It will be a reality check like no other.

Chaudhry Shujaat Hussain and Pervaiz Ellahi contribute, almost on a daily basis, their own share of confusion to the national scene: how the life of the assemblies can be extended, how the president can be ‘reelected’ by the present assemblies, how it will be no problem for the government to hold by-elections in case the opposition parties resign from the assemblies, and so forth. For it many sins Pakistan may deserve many things but what it might have done to deserve these two philosophers is a mystery.

As if there wasn’t enough excitement on the national scene already, Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) has once again lived up to its reputation of being in no one’s control. Roughing up civilians hardly raises any eyebrows. But agency operatives barging into the house of a retired brigadier and roughing up his family members right in the heart of Islamabad takes the cake. This after a quarrel between two sets of youngsters, presumably one of them related to someone high in ISI.

Ansar Abbasi deserves praise for breaking the story. According to it, an SI raiding party led by a major barged into the house of the retired brigadier, dragged out two of his grandsons and when the boys’ mother tried to intervene, picked her up too, an example of the ISI’s idea of chivalry almost calculated to take your breath away.

Two other boys were picked up from a house some distance away. The youngsters, four in all, were beaten black and blue before being abandoned, along with the mother, at a deserted spot later that night.

It might have been supposed that ISI being in the business of spying would have checked out beforehand whose house was about to be stormed. But hubris getting the better of discretion, this wasn’t done, hence the embarrassment of breaking into a retired brigadier’s house. That wasn’t all. Turns out the brigadier, 80, was a decorated veteran, Sitar-i-Jurat (SJ) and Bar.

The SJ is the second highest military award for valour in battle, the highest being the Nishan-i-Haider. SJ and Bar means two SJs. So we are dealing here with a war hero. The ISI’s reputation needs no burnishing but the paladin behind this caper has surely given its image one hell of a boost. Congratulations, Lt Gen Kayani (chief of ISI).

The sad part is that the brigadier, who I would suppose is well-connected in his own right, has been denied redress under the law, the police being helpless because, quite apart from their legendary incompetence and corruption, they are faced here by the godfathers of the republic.

So the brigadier has written to the highest court of appeal in the country, the president: “I can only look to you, sir, as the president of Pakistan and the Chief of the Pakistan Army that I also proudly served, to restore my dignity as an ex-army officer and protect my basic rights as a citizen of Pakistan...”

This gives us some idea of the rule of law in Pakistan when even someone with some status has nowhere to turn to except the president for relief and justice. I don’t know what’s more hurting, the incident itself or the tone of the brigadier’s letter. No one should have to write to anyone in this manner, least of all someone who has served his country proudly in the field of battle.

Anywhere else — that is, where the spirit of dignity and honour was alive — retired officers would have rushed to the brigadier’s defence. After all, the Islamabad/Rawalpindi region has about the highest concentration of serving and retired generals, admirals and air marshals anywhere to be found. But for all the voice on national affairs that this golden horde possesses it could be the tamest flock of sheep on the planet.

We’ve seen how in the United States retired officers of senior rank have taken on Defence Secretary Rumsfeld and come out with damning critiques of the Iraq war. We can expect no such thing here, not only regarding this latest incident but also when it comes to such things as democracy and the restoration of constitutional rule. See no evil and hear no evil seems to be the guiding principle of these retired heroes.

No doubt the military class is a leading beneficiary of the socio-economic set-up we have in Pakistan. True also that over the years the army has institutionalised the art of doling out privilege to senior ranks, defence housing authorities being the most visible symbol of the army’s expertise in this field. But privilege should not mean a voluntary muzzling of thought and feeling. Few people on earth would be more privileged than Bill Gates. But his social conscience is more alive than that of most other people.

If only our summer of discontent had to do with the roughing up of four youngsters. Alas, its ambit is much wider. Power cuts in Karachi leading to angry demonstrations almost every day, continued fighting in parts of Balochistan, lawlessness in Waziristan, the economic situation getting from bad to worse, the current account deficit ballooning out of control (4.2 per cent of GDP or a whopping five billion dollars), growing public anger at the way privatisation has been carried out and, over and above all this, the looming spectre of political instability.

Slowly but surely all the opposition parties are coalescing around a single-point agenda: no elections under a president in uniform. Some even go so far as to say no elections under Musharraf.

Qazi Hussein Ahmed of the Jamaat-i-Islami has gained in public stature by adopting a clear line and calling for an agitation against the government later this year. Imran Khan is atoning for his political sins (he supported Musharraf for the first three years of his rule) by echoing the same position. Benazir Bhutto is also committed to an anti-Musharraf agenda. Nawaz Sharif is the clearest of all: no compromise of any sort with the regime. (If he can remain as clear-headed in future, he has a future ahead of him. Otherwise, of course, back to the beginning.)

What can the general-president rely on? The ragtag Q League which would be nowhere but for official patronage; the elements supporting Arbab Ghulam Rahim in Sindh; plus the MQM which owes its present prominence to the ‘strategic’ support it has received from its high-placed patrons.

Gen Musharraf’s secret weapon, Maulana Fazlur Rehman, is yet to make up his mind. His fence-sitting posture and talent for saying different things to suit different occasions is causing confusion in the ranks of the religious combine, the MMA. But he should know that the longer he behaves like this, the more he risks being left behind by public opinion. In the current mood of the public there are not many takers for ambivalence or playing both sides of the fence. As battle-lines harden, the season of vacillation seems about to be ending.

Behind the outer cordon of political scouts comprising Q League and allies is the inner ring held by the intelligence agencies and General Headquarters, the real pillars of the present order.

Change in Pakistan has always come not primarily from the force of popular agitation but from the tectonic plates shifting in GHQ. A popular agitation if forceful enough can affect the mood in GHQ. But it’s in that inner sanctum that the real change has to occur.

When the public marched against Ayub Khan in 1968-69, Yahya Khan and his generals started twirling their moustaches. When the army lost East Pakistan, a group of generals indicated they could no longer support Yahya. This threat from within and not the surrender in the east forced Yahya to step down. When Bhutto lost political ground after the 1977 elections and made the fatal mistake of looking to Zia and his generals for support, the generals started narrowing their eyes. When Zia cut the political ground from under his feet by sacking Junejo and the National Assembly in 1988, he was no longer the man he used to be.

It remains to be seen what kind of public agitation the opposition parties can whip up. Only then can any guesses be made about the mood in that holy of holies from where most of Pakistan’s troubles flow.