HISTORY, whether as tragedy or farce, is not the only thing which repeats itself. Illusions also have many lives and in Pakistan none more so than the illusion that a military government, recognizing the difficulties it faces, will simply fade away. Or will abdicate its authority in favour of the same political class it has spent so much time and passion in reviling. For such high-minded thinking there is no cure.

Since historical parallels can serve to illumine the paths of foolishness, it is instructive to take our minds back to the Zia era when hypocrisy was installed as the guiding light of state policy. For well into the middle of that dreary winter, there was no shortage of liberal souls whose shrill voices could be heard declaiming that the junta just could not go on, that something had to give, that Zia's difficulties were so insuperable, his popular support so minimal, that he would have to quit. Eventually Zia did move towards a democratic time-table but in his own good time and of his own accord.

We have come full circle: from military rule to military rule, with a wide swathe of Pakistani democracy (distinct from other forms of democracy) in between. And as if to prove that myths and illusions die hard, the country's drawing rooms are again awash with the sentiment that the Musharraf regime is so unpopular (which, sadly, it is) and so bereft of options (about which I am not so sure) that it will have to take politicians on board preparatory to a dignified and constitutionally safeguarded exit.

The national drawing rooms, repositories of what might pass for superior wisdom, may have a point. After all, the Musharraf regime, on the threshold of its first anniversary, has not done much beyond shattering the expectations with which it came into power. But the counterpoint needs also to be made: no one in a tribal setting, which is the setting for Pakistani politics, surrenders power voluntarily. Certainly not after addressing the General Assembly and being told by the tight circle which surrounds every ruler what a powerful impact it had. Certainly not after getting used to the seductiveness of power. Note the Generalissimo's well-cut suits and sherwanis and the jaunty handkerchiefs he sports in his breast pocket. Are these the signs of a nervous commander-in-chief about to invite the likes of Ejazul Haq to share power?

In few other countries would such stand-by comics be considered as serious political contenders. But they are in Pakistan where it is the peculiarity of the climate for such personalities to be nurtured. Ultimately it is the nation, sorely pressed on so many fronts, which has to put up with their performances.

Sympathetic foreigners (as opposed to those who come with their eyes closed and their prejudices all on fire) are constantly amazed by Pakistan. Unless they go to a madrassa they will see little of the fundamentalism which so preoccupies fly-by-night western reporters. They will come across instead a people who for all their faults are hospitable and hard-working, and enjoying (for what these comparisons are worth in a poor corner of the globe) a better standard of living than anywhere else in South Asia. Don't be surprised by this. For all our passion for breast-beating and looking at the darker side of things, let us not forget that the telephones work better here than in India, the roads are better and people in general, in the mass, eat better. The statistics may be on the side of India or Bangladesh. The reality is altogether different.

Given all this, sympathetic foreigners wonder why the Pakistanis they meet are forever moaning about their country and its place in the world. These foreigners lose some of their surprise when they come across Pakistan's leaders, in power or out of it. A more depressing and dismal lot is hard to imagine. Let any American embassy officer meet any of these would-be national saviours, and these saviours make it a point for a picture and a small press release of their meeting to appear in the newspapers. Endearing as this trait is, it is also reflective of the collective mediocrity holding sway over Pakistani politics.

In one thing, however, it would have to be confessed we are behind the rest of South Asia and indeed the world and that is in our attitude to fun. In the Islamic republic all forms of what would be considered normal and natural fun anywhere else are outlawed, cops being less concerned about hidden bombs than the morals of their countrymen. This is what gives a somewhat joyless aspect to Pakistan: young and old alike, unless they happen to be rich and therefore able to afford their sins, forever contemplating the challenge of empty evenings. The liberati welcomed Musharraf because he was expected to change all this. They are dismayed because, probably getting the better of his own inclinations, he has begun learning the art of choosing his windmills carefully.

But this is far from where I started. The political class, helped in no small measure by the punditry on offer in the press, is saying the military is left with no options. As if there was an abundance of options under the Heavy Mandate and previous to that under the Queen of the East. Surface impressions notwithstanding, the generals are playing ball with the Americans. In the last twelve months they may not have delivered much to the miracle-expecting people of Pakistan, but they have acquired a better understanding of what makes the world tick (aka real politik). Hence the toning down of rhetoric against India. Hence the acquiescence, if only for a while, in the Hizb ceasefire in Kashmir. Hence also the studied and desperate attempts to fulfil IMF conditions in order to qualify for a bail-out package from that den of philanthropists.

Pakistan's condition, and by extension that of its ruling generals, would be desperate if this bail-out package (forget about its size) were to be denied and if Pakistan as a consequence were to be confronted with the perils of international default. But some sort of package will come the way of the world's second nuclear-lined begging bowl, the first being Russia's. And if after a year of braving the fury of the Pakistani bazaar - GST, documentation, tax survey, etc - the military government is seeing the outlines of international relief on the horizon (something which it will also construe as a sign of breaking out of its international isolation), does it at all stand to reason that precisely at this juncture, when the efforts of the past twelve months appear to be bearing fruit, it should admit weakness and failure by changing course? In the real world it does not happen like this. The army could have opted for a political solution in the weeks immediately following the October coup. Not now when it is riding the tiger's back.

Let us also not forget another thing. Zia's position right from the moment he seized power (July '77) till more than two years later was much more desperate than Musharraf's. In order to make ends meet Pakistan had to mortgage its rice exports in 1979 for a commercial loan of just a hundred million dollars arranged through Agha Hasan Abedi of the defunct BCCI. This was a measure of Zia's plight till the Soviet adventure in Afghanistan (December '79) sent his international stock soaring.

No doubt times are different but let us keep things in perspective. The last 12 months were pretty hard for Musharraf: grappling with the tide of public expectations, trying to make accountability work, settling accounts with Nawaz Sharif, learning the ropes of power, and all the while dancing in some desperation to the tune of the IMF. Now his teething troubles are behind him.

In any event, Pakistan is not Myanmar. Equally important, it has (with apologies to the Queen of the East) no Aung San Suu Kyi. For Musharraf this is time for consolidation, not retreat. For the people of Pakistan time to ponder afresh their destiny and learn once again the meaning of patience.