WHAT the publication of the Hamoodur Rahman Report did for the army, the Justice Qayyum tapes as revealed by the Sunday Times have done for the higher judiciary.

We had a fair suspicion of what the Eastern Command did in 1971 but the message was really brought home by the details in the Hamood Report. So too with the judiciary. We all knew such things went on. But for the cameras to catch a revealing episode: this is the value of the Qayyum tapes. The light they cast throws in sharp relief the judiciary's feet of clay.

Are the tapes genuine or doctored? There shouldn't be any doubts on this score because authenticity is writ large over them down to His Lordship Justice Malik Qayyum addressing Khalid Anwer, Nawaz Sharif's then lord chancellor, as "sir" and declaring himself to be his servant (khadim). Read the lines carefully. The tone and inflection are genuinely Pakistani. No one, not even a Booker Prize author, could have invented them.

Need we be surprised by the audacity of the interference and the readiness of Justice Qayyum to oblige his interlocutors? Not really. Prolonged authoritarianism has taken its toll, even on judges sworn to uphold the cause of truth and justice. After all who appoints judges? The executive, acting in all cases through the law minister. Security of tenure (as in established democracies) encourages independence. Insecurity breeds pliant and sycophantic behaviour. It's nothing more complicated than this.

When Zia promulgated his Provisional Constitution Order in March 1981 some judges were asked to take the oath while others were dropped. The same happened with Gen Musharraf's PCO in 2000. A few judges were again quietly dropped. Civilian rulers have treated the judiciary no better, each one of them seeking pliant judges. Judges too have demeaned themselves by seeking small favours. Such a state of affairs hardly encourages independent behaviour. As for high court judges, the years have dealt more harshly with them. Although still attended with outward pomp, it does not stretch belief to imagine them sirring the lord chancellor of the day.

For far too long has the judiciary sought refuge behind a narrow interpretation of the law of contempt. But the old barriers have broken down. Just as repeated military interventions have demystified the military, repeated invocations of the doctrine of necessity have damaged the judiciary. The ISI no longer commands the awe it once did. A similar fate has befallen the other holy cows whose shadow once fell on the county.

With regard to Justice Qayyum, moreover, these subtle considerations in any event do not apply. In the sacred precincts of the Lahore High Court he has enjoyed a special standing because of his identification with the personal problems of the Sharif dynasty. Anything affecting the family's interests has come to him for adjudication, almost as if he alone possessed the requisite delicacy to handle these matters. The division of the family's assets between its contending factions, cases involving the family's huge bank loans, and even the banking loans of Nawaz Sharif's principal errand boy, Saifur Rehman, were all attracted, as if by a powerful magnet, to Justice Qayyum's court and no other.

This no doubt was the preferred style of the Sharifs, not only fashioning a personalized administration, with loyalists at key positions, but also arranging for a personalized form of justice. When their name was involved in the cooperatives' scandal of 1991, the Supreme Court judge selected to hold a judicial inquiry into the affair was Justice Lone who exonerated the Sharifs of any wrongdoing. Later, during Nawaz Sharif's second stint as prime minister, Lone became a PML senator.

Justice Qayyum (whose brother, incidentally, was a PML MNA) is a throwback to those interesting times. Small wonder if it was he who was chosen to be Benazir Bhutto's and Asif Zardari's principal nemesis. All the important cases against them were heard by him. To Justice Qayyum also belongs the triumph of reducing Benazir Bhutto to tears in open court, so zealous was he in the pursuit of justice. All this forms the backdrop to the tapes revealed by the Sunday Times.

Justice Qayyum had been hand-picked to hear the cases against Benazir Bhutto because, as the contents of the tapes make clear, he was considered a loyalist who could be counted upon to do what was expected of him. And yet Nawaz Sharif not only kept the pressure on Justice Qayyum through Khalid Anwer and Saifur Rehman. He also ordered all of Justice Qayyum's telephones to be bugged, probably just to make sure that his zeal did not flag.

In this saga the then chief justice of the Lahore High Court, Justice Rashid Aziz, also makes a cameo appearance. He too carried word from the prime minister that the axe should fall swiftly on Benazir. What did Nawaz Sharif want? He had everything going for him. Benazir was no threat and wanted merely to be left alone. Why this obsession with vengeance? Benazir and Asif were no angels (we can say that again) but in having them prosecuted Nawaz Sharif was not seeking justice. He was pursuing a vendetta (just as Benazir was pursuing a vendetta when she had the Sharifs in the dock).

None of the above, however, is surprising: not the fact that Justice Qayyum listened to Khalid Anwer and called him sir; not the fact that Saifur Rehman was acting as the prime minister's errand boy, after all this being one of his duties; not even Chief Justice Rashid Aziz's brief appearance. By Pakistani standards all this is fairly tame stuff.

What I find surprising, although hardly distressing, is to see Khalid Anwer, erudition and all, to be performing the role of prime ministerial pressure-boy. Why did he have to do it? Hanging on to office (and worthless office at that) when Nawaz Sharif was having the 13th and 14th amendments raced through a pliant Parliament was bad enough. But holding a clock to Justice Qayyum's head and urging him, at the prime minister's bidding, to dispense justice fast is a reflection less on the hapless Justice Qayyum than on the learned Khalid Anwer.

Peter Mandelson is out of office in the UK on the basis of what to Pakistani ears would sound a quibble. Over here Khalid Anwer, who can quote Cicero and I daresay Demosthenes, is engaged in something far more serious and when caught out, takes refuge behind a lapse of memory. He does not remember having had such a conversation. Then goes on to say that even if such a conversation took place all he is alleged to have said is that the case should be disposed off quickly, which suggestion on his part was strictly in accordance with the requirements of the law. It is hard to say which is worse: the original sin or this prevarication?

Anyhow, there is nothing in this whole affair which would really startle anyone even remotely familiar with the nexus between the judiciary and the founts of executive authority in Pakistan. The Nusrat Bhutto case which enshrined once again the doctrine of necessity; the hanging of Bhutto; the various judicial decisions validating Benazir Bhutto's dismissals from power; the one decision invalidating Nawaz Sharif's dismissal from power; the judges' revolt against Chief Justice Sajjad Ali Shah; the Supreme Court's inability to give any clear-cut verdict in the Supreme Court storming case (in which PML storm-troopers were involved); and the readiness of judges to abide by various provisional constitutional orders: these events do not constitute the judiciary's finest moments.

None of this makes the judiciary any worse than other institutions. It only goes to show that in the Turkish bath of Pakistani politics everyone is naked, including, let me say for the record, the press which too often has taken a self-serving view of where its true duty lies. In this humid arena there are no heroes, nor even any outstanding villains, great villainy requiring some qualities of head or heart. Read the transcripts of these conversations again and what comes across most strikingly is the mediocrity on display. Despotism being put to what uses? So much effort being expended to what end?