Ten-year cycles of political change

PRESIDENT Musharraf’s resignation marks the end of his rule and the end of an era.

His departure on Aug 18, 2008 confirms a puzzling theory that I have been contemplating for some years now as a political scientist: every 10 years there is a major change in the direction of Pakistani politics. The years 1938, 1948, 1958, 1968, 1978, 1988, 1998 and now 2008 are significant starting and ending periods of this change. The number eight seems to occupy a critical position, as do the months of August and October in this matrix.

The starting point of this 10-year cycle of political change theory really begins with the All-India Muslim League Conference held in Karachi in Oct 1938. The participants at this conference gave serious thought to a separate homeland for the Indian Muslims. The subject was a major issue on the table and certain decisions were taken to work on the viability of such a goal. The subsequent 1940 Pakistan Resolution at Lahore was a natural outcome of that historic meeting in Karachi.

Within 10 years Pakistan became a reality, but Mr Jinnah’s personality and his stature as a statesman had overshadowed the entire leadership of the Pakistan movement. His death in Sept 1948 marked the end of the first cycle and the beginning of the next. The mantle of leadership was left to his protégé, Liaquat Ali Khan and the nascent group of pre-Partition leaders. Following the assassination of Pakistan’s first prime minister in Oct 1951, political infighting, intrigues and frequent government changes manifested themselves in the demise of this group’s meaningful role in Pakistani politics. This was a decade of disappointments, of marred visions and dreams of the founding fathers and the people of Pakistan.

Gen Ayub Khan’s military takeover in Oct 1958 is regarded by many as the start of Pakistan’s best period. Major reforms and massive industrialisation gave Pakistanis new hope and recognition on the world stage. By the end of the ‘decade of reforms’ in 1968, Ayub Khan’s power began to unravel and for all practical purposes this 10-year era drew to a close. President Ayub’s fate was sealed and the March 1969 resignation was a mere formality to confirm the end of this cycle.

Zulfikar Ali Bhutto was a rising star of Pakistan’s politics from the very beginning when he joined Ayub Khan’s martial law cabinet in 1958. In the dying days of his mentor’s political career, he had become an indispensable player on the country’s political scene. The young, charismatic and brilliant Bhutto had already caught the imagination of the Pakistani people in the western part of the country. By 1968, his new party (founded a year earlier in Lahore) with its slogan of roti, kapra aur makaan became a household word. With the soft revolution for the ordinary people’s emancipation that his party launched, Pakistan’s politics changed forever.

Bhutto’s handpicked army chief became his mortal enemy. Gen Ziaul Haq, after a shaky start in the aftermath of the July 1977 coup, began to entrench himself in power by 1978. That year, ironically, the fortunes of the two men took diametrically opposite directions. The man of the masses, a popular elected national leader with undisputed credentials and recognition on world stage, was sentenced to death; while his protégé was propelled to power for the next 10 years.

The Zia era also saw the beginning of a trend of greater emphasis on religion in Pakistan’s politics. Although Gen Ziaul Haq had a record 11-year rule, his era effectively began in 1978 when Bhutto’s fate was finally sealed. The mysterious air crash on Aug 17, 1988 killed Zia and his era ended.

The era of Pakistan’s second experiment with democracy lasted from 1988 to 1998. The late Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif’s two terms as prime ministers failed to establish their power or a truly functioning democracy in Pakistan. Numerous reasons can be attributed to their failures. The most notable ones include the fact that their personal agendas overrode national aspirations; inexperience on Benazir Bhutto’s part, and Nawaz Sharif, notwithstanding his decision to explode Pakistan’s nuclear device, overplayed his hand. Both the public and the establishment resented the way the Supreme Court was stormed and Justice Sajjad Ali Shah removed — as well as President Farooq Leghari and Gen Jahangir Karamat.

The military too was not pleased with the Nawaz government’s peace overtures to India. This was clearly demonstrated when the top brass did not show up at the welcoming ceremony for Indian Prime Minister Atal Behari Vajpayee during his visit to Lahore in early 1999.

Technically, the military coup against Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif happened in Oct 1999, but the process of his downfall had begun a year earlier. The Musharraf 10-year cycle began in 1998 from the time he was appointed as army chief. His adventure in Kargil had a negative fallout and the Nawaz Sharif government was finding it difficult to cope with the new chief; the course for change in Pakistani politics was set in motion. In retrospect, the manner and drama of Musharraf’s takeover suggests that he was destined to be in power and play a major role for Pakistan at home and on the world stage.

There is another noteworthy pattern repeated during these eras. On at least four occasions ‘trusted’ army chiefs have taken over power from their mentors. It happened in the cases of President Iskandar Mirza and Gen Ayub; President Ayub and Gen Yahya Khan; Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and Gen Ziaul Haq; and Nawaz Sharif and Gen Pervez Musharraf.

If this 10-year cycle of change theory endures, we can assume the present democratic and coalition dispensation will last till 2018. However, cycles of change do not happen in a cut and dry manner and on the dot of 10 years; there are periods of transition before the start and end of these main periods.

Also, personalities have dominated most cycles: Jinnah was the dominating figure during the 1938-48 period; Ayub Khan(1958-68); ZA. Bhutto (1968-78); Ziaul Haq (1978-88) and Pervez Musharraf (1998-2008). But during the periods of 1948-58 and 1988-1998, though Liaquat Ali Khan, Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif were all well-known leaders of their times, no one leader had a meaningful impact on Pakistan’s political scene. The political process played out until the end of the 10-year cycle. We will have to wait another 10 years to see if history repeats itself once again.

The accidental presidency

COMING soon to a television near you: President Zardari. You could almost hear the gasps and cries and shrieks across the country when Raza Rabbani made the announcement.

From playboy to first husband to public enemy to regent to president — Asif’s journey confounds even those who thought they had seen it all.

The friends of the friend of friends were certainly whooping in delight. And why not? This was the moment they dared not dream of: Zardari as king of Pakistan. The friends of Pakistan, meanwhile, were shaking their heads in disbelief. Eight months ago, Asif was in political purgatory and the marital doghouse and the only largesse he had to dole out were expensive meals in Manhattan. Fast forward to Defence Day and Asif will be crowned king. Many will be wondering who will defend Pakistan from Asif and co.

For Asif-haters, President Zardari will be the final flourish in the case against the man they believe has orchestrated every bitter, bloody step to the top. Over in whatever they are calling the Army House these days, Musharraf must have enjoyed a quiet chuckle. And the chuckle would have only grown louder as Asif and Nawaz went their separate ways. Told them they’d be begging me to come back, he must be thinking.

But what does it all mean, President Zardari presiding over a coalition sans Nawaz? For one, it’s goodbye to the judges’ restoration — via a constitutional amendment or any other device. If the judges want their robes and gavels back, they will have to obediently get in line and take a fresh oath. Asif has refused to budge from his constitutional amendment route to restoration. But Naek’s weighty package also cuts the presidency down to size. Asif may be many things, but he isn’t a masochist — he will never preside over his own political emasculation. So amending the constitution is off, destined to die a death by committee.

That does leave Asif the option of the Nawaz formula of bringing back CJ Iftikhar & co via a parliamentary resolution. But why should he? It will only give Nawaz a famous victory, which is hardly the parting present Asif will have in mind. And it will bring back CJ Iftikhar, who is straining at the leash, desperate to resume his crusade to fix Pakistan and become the people’s hero. Forget the NRO and Musharraf’s indemnity, Asif would be mad to have CJ Iftikhar stomping around his fragile kingdom. So there will be no more CJ Iftikhar — who will become a cautionary tale of the perils of the self-appointed messiah.

Politics, meanwhile, will return to the tumult and trauma of bazaar bargaining. It will become more and more difficult to separate the villains from the heroes. Was this Asif’s plan all along? No. He really did want the N-league back in the cabinet, if only to cop some of the abuse that will be hurled at his government. Steering a transition to democracy requires dealing with dark forces, which will force unpopular choices. If the electoral battles for the forseeable future will be between the N-league and the PPP, what better way for Asif to ensure his rivals don’t get an undue advantage than by tarring them with the brush of collective responsibility?

But Nawaz has proved that his is an oppositional mindset. Politics of principles suits those in opposition; principled is nothing more than a proxy for inflexible, which isn’t conducive to getting anything done in a fractious polity. And first Musharraf, then the judges — if Nawaz got his way, he would see no reason to stop making demands. So a recalcitrant — principled — Nawaz made it inevitable for Asif to move on.

In fact, if a divorce was inevitable, then this is the most amicable way to go about it. A principled, wounded Nawaz will return to his Punjab fort; a pragmatic, powerful Asif will be the puppet master in Islamabad. Which is another reason for Asif to preside over an unamended constitution — the jiyala governor in Punjab will keep a watchful eye on the N-league government, Article 112(2)(b), the provincial equivalent of 58(2)(b), at his disposal.

And those wringing their hands, worrying about nurturing a democratic system? This is the system. A durable democratic system will only emerge from the tumult of politics. And when politicians back down. The era of post-politics — reconciliation and working together — was a stopgap, a break from politics to engineer a transition to democracy. If it worked, well and good. But it was always unnatural politics — emphasising responsible governance at the expense of responsible opposition.

At one level, the failure of democracy in Pakistan is simple to understand: it isn’t a failure to get the politicians to agree, but a failure to prevent them from fighting bitterly when they don’t agree. The system — democracy — will benefit if Asif and Nawaz figure out how to fight but not cripple each other. Throwing rocks at each other from their respective camps is fine, as long as neither storms the other’s ramparts.

There is a possibility of this working. As the principled figure in opposition, Nawaz will wrest some compromises from Asif. He has to, for the fewer levers of power Asif has his hands on the more comfortable it will be in opposition.

And it is certaintly a more natural arrangement: the largest national party leading a coalition of like-minded liberal parties; the second largest national party sitting in opposition. Nawaz and Asif as adversaries should not automatically fill us with dread for they occupy very different parts of the political spectrum. What should fill us with dread is the possibility that they will refuse to draw certain red lines.

For now Nawaz is less of a worry. His politics of no compromise is clear but he’s on the wrong side of the powers that be and needs to consolidate Fortress Punjab. The real X factor is Asif. Can anyone honestly claim they know what the man stands for? Away from party positions and the rhetoric he peddles, who is Asif the politician? Is he a tactician or strategician? When he surveys the Pakistani political landscape does he see opportunities or threats? Is consolidation of power the means or the end? And perhaps most importantly, and intangibly, does Asif accept the main caveat of democracy — that democracy will necessarily leave everyone in the system, including himself, a little unhappy? On the answers to these questions hinges the future. Stay tuned to that television near you.

cyril.a@gmail.com

Pakistan ‘khappe’

ASIF Ali Zardari is thought by many in Pakistan to be the smartest politician of the day. It is being said that he has outwitted and out-manoeuvred the far more seasoned Nawaz Sharif by forcing his hand and pre-empting what was in any case as good as history.

But he has also taken an enormous risk at a particularly sensitive juncture in Pakistan’s history when authoritarianism is still at large and democracy at best provisional.

Of course, the break-up of the coalition had been on the cards for some time. Even so, what is that makes one mainstream party in government opt for open confrontation with another — and that too its coalition partner — at a time of treacherous transition? Why does it feel impelled to go so far as even to invoke raison d’état in the context of the restoration of what is effectively one of the pillars of state?

It has at last come to light that the chief obstacle in the way of the PPP’s continued alliance with the PML-N was the so-called ‘minus one’ formula or, in other words, that the nigger in the woodpile was all along, for the bulk of the PPP, essentially the non-functional CJP, Iftikhar Chaudhry.

Why? There would seem to be a number of reasons for this. One of them may simply be the fact that Chaudhry has become just a little larger than life in the eyes of some of our political leaders.

After all, it is not so easy to forget that it was he who took on the country’s former president and brought about the ‘big bang’ that finally led to his resignation. For few can dispute that the ouster of Gen Musharraf began as early as March 9, 2007 and ended when it did. To do so would merely be to distort history.

Needless to say, this does not in any way detract from Benazir Bhutto’s contribution. Her role in the saga — her heroic struggle, followed by her tragic assassination — was indubitably a key catalyst for change. Again, though, it must be seen in perspective and taken for what it was: a dynamic point of convergence with the struggle of Iftikhar Chaudhry, his fellow judges and the legal fraternity. If truth is not to prove a casualty, we cannot rightly separate the different forces — including the APDM — responsible for the eventual departure from the political scene of the commando-general.

Nor, for that matter, can we get by without giving credit to Sharif or indeed Zardari both of whom devised the ‘mother of all strategies’ to rid the country once and for all of our erstwhile dictator. Who persuaded whom should not be at issue here. The dogged commitment of Sharif and Zardari’s tactical delay, followed by their impeccably timed impeachment coup, together brought about the desired result.

However, though only some days old, that is already archival. And the nation has learnt with dismay that another, equally important part of its mandate is, at least for the time being, to remain unfulfilled: the judges’ issue, still mystifyingly on hold. The PPP has its own views on the matter.

But a majority of the people of Pakistan did indeed vote for the restitution of our deposed judiciary. The fact that Iftikhar Chaudhry had made the dream of a ‘government of laws rather than men’ possible succeeded in earning him a place in the national pantheon.

Consequently, with Musharraf gone and Chaudhry’s fate still hanging in the balance, the question on many thinking people’s lips is: how can you sideline an icon? And of course — the contradictions between the war on terror and civil rights and NRO compulsions notwithstanding — you cannot.

In any case, Sharif and our crusading lawyers who are fully aware that this is a moment in Pakistan’s history that must not be allowed to slip, will surely see to it that the right thing is done — in the foreseeable future — by both Chaudhry and his fellow judges.

The assessment of our lawyers that all our ills are traceable to the erosion of the rule of law and constitutionality in the country is absolutely correct. The Musharraf era has amply demonstrated that a politics of pure power is ultimately self-defeating.

Zardari’s slogan of ‘Pakistan khappe’ can only convince if it is substantiated by a fresh engagement on his part with historical fundamentals, the questions he began, for instance, by addressing in the wake of the PPP’s electoral victory Pakistan’s economy, provincial autonomy, terrorism and, above all, good governance.

The theme of solidarity — or a commitment, precisely, to the idea of a national coalition — underlay his discourse of the time. If, as certainly seems to be the case, that has altered since, why? Is it that Musharraf’s exit has brought about a sense that Pakistan was suddenly a less fragile structure than in the past? Or that consensus was no longer a valid option?

A political conscience may be anachronous or even a contradiction in terms but, in today’s Pakistan, realpolitik is a mere recipe for disaster. Reneging on solemn commitments was one of the hallmarks of the old order. And it is firmly hoped that it will not prove a symptom of the new. It is, of course, a relief that the question of the country’s next president has almost been settled since opposition to Zardari’s candidature is liable to be a more or less token affair. If the Charter of Democracy is anything to go by, then it would seem to be a given that Article 58-2(b) of the constitution will be repealed and that the post will in due course be rendered purely ceremonial.

This means that its symbolism will be of the essence. And it is this aspect of the office that should concern us before all else. The idea of a bipartisan ‘elder statesman’ with an unblemished reputation and belonging to one of the small provinces seemed to make eminent sense.

However, the CEC of the PPP has unanimously endorsed Zardari, and ‘vox populi’, clearly, has its relevance. But there are some caveats that Zardari would do well to heed. By assuming the presidential mantle, he will necessarily be reducing himself politically. He possesses unfettered freedom and power as co-chairperson of his own party and can be of invaluable use to the country where he is.

Moreover, if Zulfikar Ali Bhutto never quite made it as ‘establishment’, it is unlikely that any other political leader can. Being on the ‘inside’ of government holds hazards that cannot at times be foreseen. And, when they are, external props being as slippery as they are, it can just be too late.

The great jail-break and after

WHEN the Taliban broke more than 750 prisoners out of jail this summer, in one of the most spectacular attacks in living memory, Nato’s response was instant but invisible.

Senior commanders scrambled every drone plane they could spare as prisoners poured out of Kandahar jail. The closest Nato garrison had hunkered down inside their base, afraid of more attacks, as prisoners poured into the night. But commanders at nearby Kandahar airfield watched live pictures of the anarchy, from the comfort of their operations room, as wave after wave of escapees began marching east, to sanctuaries in Pakistan.

A fleet of Predator drones criss-crossed the skies some 35,000ft above Afghanistan’s second city, flying through the night and long into the next morning, as rag-tag columns of men made good their escape.

Some of the prisoners went straight to Arghandab, just outside the city, where they fought with Nato troops a few days later. But most of the 400 Taliban prisoners, who were among the 750 inmates freed, fled back to Pakistan — beyond the reach of Nato’s force. Or so they thought.

International troops are using drones to patrol Pakistani airspace in an attempt to monitor insurgents on both sides of the border. “We wanted to see where the prisoners went,” said one official in Kabul, hinting that the fugitives had betrayed their hideouts when they fled.

It is an open secret that armed Predator drones, operated by the CIA, are flying routine fire missions inside Pakistan against Al Qaeda leaders. Islamabad insists it will never sanction American soldiers on its soil but senior Nato officials insist the drones are there with tacit, if sometimes strained, consent of Pakistani officials.

The most notable example of a drone attack came last January, when a missile from a Predator hit a terrorist safe house in Waziristan, killing Abu Laith al-Libi, the man accused of plotting an attack against Bagram airbase, when US Vice-President Dick Cheney was visiting. That attack, in the Pakistani tribal region of Bajaur, targeted and missed Al Qaeda’s number two leader, Ayman al-Zawahri.

At the end of last month, a drone operating in north-western Pakistan pinpointed Al Qaeda’s chemical engineer, Abu Khabab al-Masri, who was a central figure in the group’s production of chemical weapons and conventional explosives.

Al Qaeda has confirmed the death of the operative who was killed by a missile, along with five other people. “The CIA already conducts operations in partnership with the Pakistanis,” said a senior Nato official in Kabul. “Nato would like to have the same relationship with Pakistan.”

The drones watch and log the movements of senior Taliban commanders in Pakistan’s lawless tribal areas. The Taliban claims that it can hear the tell-tale buzz of unmanned aerial vehicles, or UAVs, before they attack. The army describes drones as its “unblinking eye,” and they rely on them for almost all of their major operations. One senior airborne officer said there was no doubt the aircraft had saved British lives. “The big thing is that they help us at the lowest tactical level. They find information that allows us to make decisions.”

Moments before soldiers storm compounds or search houses, drone crews relay messages to their commanders warning them how many fighters to expect to be there, and what weapons they will have.

On a search operation in Helmand, against a suspected bomb factory, drone crews directed troops to return to a compound they had already searched, after the operators spotted bodies hiding in a nearby treeline. Smaller versions of the Predator are flown from Kandahar and Camp Bastion. The British have hired a model plane enthusiast to help the drones take off and land, while even smaller drones — the size of remote-controlled toy planes — are flown by artillery troops from the forward operating bases scattered across the provinces.

But the information is not always foolproof. America is investigating claims that its warplanes killed 89 civilians in an air strike in Herat last week. The Afghanistan President, Hamid Karzai, has already dismissed two senior Afghan officers for their role in the attack. It is just possible that the “thorough battle damage assessment” that American officials said proved that they had only killed insurgents was also done by a drone. President Karzai disagrees, and the Americans have, reluctantly, launched an investigation.

Perhaps more telling, is that three months after the great jail break, not one of the fugitive prisoners has been arrested.

— © The Independent, London