Puppetry in Pak

In my last column (of impressions from my recent Pakistan visit, Warmth in Pak, Jan. 20), I dwelt on the astonishing fact that there is no country in the world where an Indian is made to feel more welcome than in Pakistan. At the same time, the warmth and affection lavished on Indian guests cannot obscure real differences of strategic perceptions (and actual actions) between the two countries.

I recall hearing in the 1980s from then students of St Stephen’s College about a visit to Pakistan by a delegation of Stephanians as guests of the college’s famous alumnus, Gen. Zia-ul-Haq. They came back utterly won over by the general’s charm, hospitality and graciousness — but at that very time, Gen. Zia’s Pakistan was pumping weapons and support to anti-Indian militants and guiding them to infiltrate our territory.
So paradox is the paradigm defining Indo-Pak relations. Military rulers in Pakistan have launched wars, overtly and covertly, against India; they have also been our best partners for peace, as Gen. Zia himself and Gen. Musharraf (the architect of the Kargil War, after all) demonstrated. One general rule of thumb could be that the Pakistani military are usually hawks when they are not directly in power and doves when they have taken on the responsibilities of office. As Pakistani columnist Cyril Almeida observed to me, a general who is not in charge of the civilian government thinks and breathes military issues all day, whereas a general in charge of the government keeps meeting ambassadors and foreign ministers and discovers the need for statesmanship. There is also the undeniable reality that government responsibility includes the nation’s parlous finances, which preclude indulgence in too many military fantasies. You can launch a Kargil when some hapless civilian has to deal with its political and diplomatic consequences, not when you are carrying the can yourself.
This is an interesting view, but not entirely conclusive — after all, Gen. Ayub Khan launched the 1965 war and Gen. Yahya Khan the surprise strike of 1971, both when they were ruling as Presidents. But it’s worth thinking about as we look at the fascinating cross-currents in Pakistan’s domestic affairs today, which are, to say the least, fraught.
Consider the developments of the last few weeks: Pakistan’s highly effective ambassador in Washington, Hussain Haqqani, is forced to resign under military pressure for having allegedly inspired a memorandum to the US asking America to prevent a military coup in Islamabad. (One would think an ambassador has several more subtle ways of conveying the same message without asking a flaky businessman to write such a memo.) He is holed up in the Prime Minister’s house, telling the press he fears for his life if he leaves it. Meanwhile, the Leader of the Opposition takes the issue to the Supreme Court, which — instead of saying that such a matter is none of its business — institutes an unprecedented commission of inquiry to look into the matter, and demands statements from the Army and the government, as well as the alleged protagonists themselves. The Army more or less accuses the civilian government of treason; the Prime Minister criticises the Army for speaking out of turn and sacks the powerful defence secretary (a retired general who is the Army’s nominee). As the standoff escalates, the Supreme Court holds the Prime Minister in contempt for not having heeded its demands to write to the Swiss government to reopen corruption cases against its own President, which had earlier been spiked under the National Reconciliation Ordinance. Rumours of a military coup fill the air as the Prime Minister makes a conciliatory appearance before the Supreme Court and smokes the peace pipe with the generals. A popular former cricket captain, meanwhile, holds mass rallies around the country, reportedly with the military’s active support, clamouring for change, and assorted establishment figures abandon their political parties to flock to his side. You couldn’t make this stuff up if you tried.
For now, I am inclined to think that we are witnessing brinkmanship, not imminent military intervention. The military derives its immense power over the civilian government from the ever-present threat of a takeover, but there are four good reasons why it will hesitate to take the final step right now. First, memories of the popular agitation that unseated President Musharraf are still fresh; the Army tends to conduct its coups when disillusionment with civilian rule is so widespread that the generals are widely greeted as saviours. Right now it is far from clear that a coup would be welcomed by the public at large, as the previous ones were, and no general wants to come to power to deal with internal disturbances. Second, Pakistan’s problems of governance and public finance are so acute — with a collapsing economy, acute unemployment, declining foreign aid and a restive, predominantly young population — that it would suit the military to leave ownership of these problems in civilian hands, rather than assume direct responsibility for them. Third, tensions with the Pakistan military’s biggest benefactors of the last decade, the US, are at an all-time high; few believe the US is going to be pumping more billions into Rawalpindi GHQ, which means the Army is going to struggle to justify, even maintain, its absurdly high budget at a time of belt-tightening.
Fourth and finally, two newly-powerful institutions in Pakistan make a coup difficult to get away with. The judiciary, fresh from its reassertion of authority against Gen. Musharraf, has never been stronger; the Chief Justice has become a power in his own right, and can be counted upon not to acquiesce in anything he deems extra-constitutional. And then there’s the media. It’s no longer enough for a general to roll the tanks around to PTV to send a clear message to the nation; today there are a dozen raucous channels that have changed public discourse in Pakistan about politics, sometimes irresponsibly, but it will not be easy to silence them all. Whereas the print media has never been considered capable of moving the streets, TV can and does; it is perhaps the most significant constraint today on military adventurism.
This means the military is far likelier to want to assert itself behind an acceptable civilian leader untainted by the failures of the main political parties, inexperienced enough to take military direction and popular enough to be a credible national leader. That’s why we must watch out for Imran Khan.

The writer is a member of Parliament from Kerala’s Thiruvananthapuram constituency