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Foreigners are often surprised by the lack of public resistance to military intervention in Pakistani politics. They shouldn't be. Pakistani society has developed a socio-psychological subservience to the men in uniform. It's the result of a long history of indoctrination and less subtle means of cooption by successive military rulers.
Who should rule Pakistan? Since its creation in 1947, this question has been puzzling the decolonised elites of Pakistan. Even in 2001, in Musharraf's Pakistan, this fundamental issue remains the bane of political development and undercuts the very cohesion of the federation.
Within a decade of the power struggle that ensued in the wake of Partition, the military emerged as the clear victor over other claimants to state power. The politicians' lack of competence in statecraft, the influx of refugees, its relative smallness vis-a-vis India and, more significantly, the East Pakistan question had deepened the survival dilemma of the nascent nation.
But, above all, the Cold War context was decisive in defining Pakistan's outlook—as a bulwark against communism and one of the "most allied allies" of the United States. Our military institutions, inherited from the British, found new patrons in the land of Uncle Sam. The genesis and growth of the Pakistan-India rivalry was a reflection of the international system of that time in the South Asian subsystem. For the generals and the religious right wing, however, it was a godsend.
Anti-Indianism and the Islamic ideology came together to give a shape to the fluid concept of Pakistani nationalism, which has been since then inculcated in the psyche of the people through textbooks and media (both state-controlled and independent). For an average Pakistani, an Indian is a dhoti-clad treacherous demon whose sole mission in life is to bring down Pakistan; India is a place where conspiracies are hatched to harm Islam and Muslims. History and truth, as always, have been the silent victims of this process of nation-building.
Since the 1958 coup, if not earlier, military rulers have had the prerogative of setting the foreign and domestic policy agenda for Pakistan. And today's Pakistan, its politics and society, are products of their fantastic ideas to shape the minds and hearts of people to suit their agendas. The process of cooption has been all-encompassing and covers almost all crucial areas of life—from journalism to academia and bureaucracy to sports to the clergy.
Each military ruler has attempted to bar the generation-old politicians and replace them with those groomed under the auspices of military rule. Field Marshal Ayub Khan had disqualified more than 3,000 politicians; the political class of the 1970s was hatched under his system of Basic Democracy. Most of them were displaced by Zia-ul-Haq who created his own handpicked lot of politicians—of which Nawaz Sharif was a classic specimen: corrupt to the core, surviving on clutches of the military and dislodged as soon as he tried to grow out of its influence.
The intercessions of so-called democratic rule—Zulfikar Ali Bhutto's post-1971 stint and the two terms each for his daughter Benazir and Nawaz Sharif—have been nothing more than just another round of the perpetual intra-elite power struggle. And each time, the military won the battles with decisive knockouts. Each time the courts have been asked to adjudicate the question of who should rule Pakistan. Our pliant judiciary has endorsed the right of the generals to run the country in whatever way they wanted to.
Thus, in Musharraf's Pakistan, the military reigns supreme, unchallenged, and will do so as long as it wishes. Like Ayub and Zia, he too has introduced a new system of grassroots elections and—like his predecessors—he too will use them to legitimise his own grip on power. Public welfare, education, human resource development are ideas marginal to Pakistan's politics.
The present political giants have been utter disappointments. The sins of Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif are too well known to bear repetition. They simply do not have in them what it takes to assume the mantle of leadership.
They have been unable to resist the temptation of money and power. Both rode to power on the crutches they were so accustomed to latch on to. Benazir exploited the name and politics of her dead father and still acquiesced in becoming a dispensable part of a "controlled" experiment in democracy under the umbrella of the generals. Sharif bit the hand that had fed him all along and was duly drummed out of power.
Both Sharif and Benazir have had two opportunities each to transform their voters' power into a strong and responsible political administration that could have ensured continuity of civilian rule.
Both of them proved to be pygmies. Their growth as political giants was inorganic. Their fall went unlamented each time they were dethroned. They epitomised all the traits of the corrupt political class that had been imposed on the people of Pakistan since the days of Zia. Cronyism, politics of patronage, their authoritarian style of governance and outright incompetence meant that they were soon to be dumped by the people who had elected them in the first place.
That was never allowed to happen. Every change of government since 1988 had been sanctioned—covertly or openly—by the military. Each time Sharif or Benazir faced political crises as prime ministers, it was the weight of the military that decided which way the balance would tilt. People were never trusted with the matter of judging the politicians they had returned to assemblies. The famous 'Devolution of Power' plan, introduced by the think-tanks of the Musharraf government, is also following the hackneyed script.
However, Gen Musharraf has shown a surprising deviation from the past rulers: he wants peace with India. He asks the clergy to refrain from regurgitating anti-India rhetoric. For the people of my generation—born in the 1960s and growing up under Zia—this new tune sounds almost blasphemous. If it is not anti-Indianism, then in what other terms can we possibly render Pakistani-Muslim nationalism?
Musharraf chose the holy day of Eid-e-milad this year to admonish "irresponsible religious leaders" whose ceaseless war-cry against India is harming Pakistan's interests. Economic growth, he said, has been undermined by religious militancy and sectarianism that distort Pakistan's image in the international community.
This change of heart is welcome. The new India policy is bound to have widespread and deep political and social ramifications.
It's surprising that the general was so selective in identifying those whose belligerent posture towards India undercuts Pakistan's national interests. The 'ideology of Pakistan', as defined to students in every school and college, is nothing except anti-Indianism. In every walk of life, a vast majority of people have been inculcated with fantastic anti-India notions. Beating the drum the military establishment gave them has been a source of fame and fortune for many.
But the most obvious place to look for unflinching anti-Indianism is, of course, the military itself. Phrases like the 'Hindu mentality' and 'devious Indian psyche' are part of the daily military talk. The jehadi groups that are now being berated for their "irresponsible statements" have always enjoyed a close relationship with the Pakistan military. In fact, the trend of religious and sectarian militancy is a direct consequence of the policies which Gen Musharraf's predecessor from the army, Zia-ul-Haq, was so proud of.
Anti-Indianism, in short, runs deep in Pakistani state and society. It is a state of mind that cannot be switched off by mere statements of disapproval. People simply have no other alternative frame of reference in which to define Pakistani nationalism.
This sentiment dominates Pakistan's other policy choices as well. In his Seerat Conference 2001 statement, Gen Musharraf argued that after the acquisition of nuclear weapons, Pakistan is militarily strong and what needs to be done now is to make its economy strong. But Pakistan's economy is weak exactly because a disproportionately large chunk of the country's resources has always been used for defence (against India) at the expense of social development and economic growth. Had it not been for the India factor, there would have been little logic in building up such mammoth defences.
But the most sinister manifestation of Pakistan's misdirected India policy is the mushrooming of sectarian militant outfits in the name of jehad in Kashmir. Pakistani society has been fragmented along sectarian lines. Violence in Pakistan has increased in direct proportion to the rise in the number of religious militant groups (who, according to Gen Musharraf, misuse jehad funds). Religious groups have been sliced into smaller factions and this process of fragmentation seems to never end. Even within the main sect of the land—the Sunnis—new divisions have sprung up.
To change the fateful course of history and save Pakistani society from further degeneration, the role of religion in Pakistan's foreign and domestic policy needs to redefined. If religion is not a factor in Pakistan's relations with, say, China or Nepal, it should also be delinked from Islamabad's India policy.
Gen Musharraf has made a correct diagnosis of what ails Pakistan. However, blaming the religious right wing alone is likely to complicate and deepen the country's crisis of ideology. It remains to be seen if the general has the will to overhaul the entire ideological edifice of the state of Pakistan and rebuild it in conformity with Jinnah's ideals.
No other group in society, no political party, no ngo, no champion of democracy, not even the religious parties, has the credibility or the means to re-form the strategic designs of the state of Pakistan. It is for the military to do it, for the military alone can elicit the kind of public obedience required to bring about such a huge ideological and social change.
If Gen Musharraf is able to bring a shift in the military's historic role and give Pakistan a new sense of nationalism—a nationalism not based on enmity with India but derived from its people's strength—then he might distinguish himself from his much reviled military predecessors. But will he be allowed to do it?
(Najum Mushtaq is assistant editor
with the Pakistani daily, The News, Lahore.)
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