OF late, a spate of comment, criticism and editorials has appeared in the press, alleging all kinds of fiscal improprieties by senior defence service officers as well as their civilian partners in crime.

So much so that the government has felt the need to deny some of these charges in very strong terms. Some allegations, however, remain unanswered. For instance, The Star, a Karachi evening paper, recently ran a story under the banner headline "DHA [Defence Housing Authority] demands 20,000 acres along National Highway." According to the report, the Sindh government has been asked to allocate this land to the Authority at nominal rates so that it can develop it and sell it to retired defence personnel. Had it been for this specific purpose, perhaps not so many eyebrows would have been raised. However, we know all too well that this cheaply acquired land is subsequently transferred to civilians at market rates, giving their original owners windfall profits. All of Pakistan's major cities have "defence societies" where the vast majority of residents and property owners are civilians.

Page two of the same newspaper contains a long story - largely attributed to "observers" and "military analysts" - repeating accusations of corruption against senior generals made by politicians, most notably Qazi Hussain Ahmad, the Jamaat-e-Islami chief. In the report, one observer has been quoted as saying about these allegations: "If this is true, all those involved should be tried for high treason because they have played with the integrity of the country and damaged national interest."

Granted that evening newspapers do not enjoy a very enviable record for factual reporting, no denial of the DHA story has appeared in the press. However, The Nation is a more serious daily, and it, too, has been carrying stories and editorial comment on this subject. For instance, it has recently carried a long interview with Saifur Rahman, the previous (and now jailed) accountability czar in which he has made serious and detailed accusations against some top naval, air force and army officers. He has also named Abdullah Al-Aseer, arms dealer Adnan Khashogi's son-in-law and Amir Lodhi as being associated in massive scams relating to arms purchases.Saifur Rahman went on to say that the amount skimmed off in the eight deals he had investigated was many times more than all the money made by civilians and politicians in the frauds he had examined. In its editorial that appeared on the same day, The Nation says:

"... His claim is too detailed to be ignored, and it cannot be denied that he was in a position to know. He has said the [Ehtesab] Bureau had investigated eight major cases involving about $1 billion, and identified not just the civil and military officers involved, but their front men, offshore companies and bank accounts, while witnesses, documents and offshore account details were all available. As if to prove that he is not whistling in the dark, Saif disclosed with an abundance of detail, impressive in someone speaking from memory, the shadier aspects of the Agosta submarine deal, naming former chief of naval staff, Admiral Mansoorul Haq, who was asked to resign in 1997, as well as two major arms dealers, Abdullah Al-Aseer, son-in-law of the notorious Adnan Khasogi, and Amir Lodhi, a name that keeps cropping up in these deals..."

The editorial went on to say: "...while civilians have been jailed and handcuffed, even held without charge, accused retired [military] officers continue to live in comfortable exile... If political corruption and loan default is criminal, bungling in defence deals is treasonous..." Strong words, especially when aimed at our defence establishment, hitherto generally treated as a sacred cow by the press and the public alike.

These allegations mask a more general malaise, and indicate that the nation's honeymoon with military rule is over. The junta's decision to have the best of both worlds by allowing the press to function freely while ruling by fiat is proving that the two things are incompatible in the long run. As long as the early euphoria lasted, very few dissenting views were expressed. Now the snipers have taken up positions, and soon it will be open season on the army. One year can be a lifetime in Pakistani politics, and for good or bad, the armed forces entered the bloodstained arena of politics when they seized power last October.

The fact that they were widely welcomed a year ago is more an indication of Nawaz Sharif's sharp drop in popularity than any genuine desire for military rule. As long as they operated behind the scene, the generals retained their aura of rectitude and efficiency. However, as soon as they took over, they stepped into the firing line. As a nation, we are far too impatient to wait for anything whether it is a seat on a bus or accountability of politicians and bureaucrats. And as we could have foreseen (but generally failed to), the army has no magic wand to cure the nation's many ills, any more than civilians do.

The general perception (as opposed to the generals' perception) is that things are worse than they were a year ago. The public is bored with the glacial progress of accountability cases, and is more concerned with rising unemployment and prices. We seem more isolated than ever before, largely because of the pariah status Pakistan has acquired after the October coup. All the promise and dreams of a better tomorrow that we had thought we glimpsed a year ago have turned out to be a mirage.

In truth, most of this cannot be laid at General Musharraf's door: he and his colleagues in and out of uniform just do not have any solutions for the deep-rooted problems of poverty, illiteracy and the poor economic policies they have inherited. It is we who are guilty of wishful thinking on the one hand, and an impatience with leaders who do not deliver instantly on the other. We refuse to accept that after years of putting off tough decisions and refusing to inject some discipline into our economy, our society and our polity, we have now reached a point where there are no easy answers, no instant panacea.

Under these circumstances, things can only get worse for the army. General Musharraf should begin to think of a tactical withdrawal rather than waiting for another two years as mandated by the Supreme Court: by the year 2002, the bouquets will have turned into brickbats. A national government comprising neutral figures (and not discredited politicians like Ejazul Haq) could be established with the sole mandate of preparing for early elections. Whether we like it or not, we have to allow the political process to move forward. Even the powerful Pakistan army cannot keep it in stasis for very long.

But at the end of the day, General Musharraf may well discover that taking power was the easy part: as Field Marshal Von Manstein wrote in his brilliant Lost Victories, disengaging and conducting a methodical retreat in the face of the enemy are the most difficult aspects of warfare.