I was in Nigeria in 1999 when a friend called to say that those who had sent me into professional exile – for serving as one of BB's principal foreign policy advisers (1993-96) – were themselves in the process of being dumped, following the Commando's coup, and whether I had any advice for the new 'maximum' leader.
My first reaction was to give the Commando full credit for following the sage advice rendered by Julius Caesar to his generals as they were about to cross the Rubicon before entering Rome: "If you must break the law, do it to seize power. In all other cases observe it".
The Commando had done just that. He had trashed the constitution to seize power. But was he truly a revolutionary, a man cast in the mould of Ataturk, as he wanted us to believe or just another snake oil salesman in uniform?
So I called my friend back and told him: Look, true revolution has to be a revolution of the inner self, that is, the replacement not only of the old order but of the old spirit by a new order and a new spirit. It has to be a mould-breaking gesture; a departure into some new language which offers the people a new kind of hope because the piecemeal action former coup-ists, like Farooq Leghari, had in mind amounted to little more than a holding action in the face of looming chaos.
"What precisely amounts to a 'mould-breaking' measure?", my friend asked.
"Well, for a start, how about land reform in Sindh?", I said. "That should create a whole new class and end the curse of wadera-ism that has prevented society from entering the 20th century".
"It's strange you should suggest that because so had I", my friend said, "but Musharraf fears nobody could implement such a law and besides that would bring about a revolution'.
"But surely a revolution is precisely what is needed if we are to emerge from the mess we are in. Besides, you won't need anybody to implement the law. The haris would do it themselves, up to the last square yard".
As we know, Musharraf got cold feet. Far from acting like Ataturk, he did worse – reverting to the very constitution he had subverted to uphold his foray into politics. And, rather than the loving dogs he had clasped to his bosom in the initial days of the coup, he clutched at the discredited and unloved politicians he had earlier removed. Small wonder his venture ended in a disaster.
Musharraf's example is now being followed by yet another soldier in Egypt. He too is talking about preserving the current Egyptian constitution while extolling the virtues of elections, democracy, etc, all of which he has subverted and is banking on a pliable judiciary for legal cover. Needless to say, he will fail and his fate will be no different from that of the Commando or on second thoughts it is likely to be worse because of the blood spilt.
The underlying motivation of the Arab spring was to challenge the unaccountable centres of economic and political power. 'The power of the people is greater than the people in power' became the Egyptian pro-democracy slogan. And that was also what the 'lawyers' movement' in Pakistan conveyed.
Alas, in both countries, these movements promised more than they delivered. Islamism and military power has strangled the Arab spring even if all Egyptians haven't woken up to that fact as yet. And in Pakistan the lawyers' notion that collective expression of voting in free and fair elections was a cure-all for our problems has proved hopelessly wrong in the past and there is no reason to believe it won't again.
The trouble is that democracy, which we all profess to hold in awe, is by its very nature flawed. Majority rule produces decisions that are determined by what is popular as opposed to what is best. The popular good and the public good often clash in a system that rewards short-term decision-making while encouraging the illusion of immediate and positive outcomes for the majority. Democracy is no guarantee that the best decisions will be made because the public has an insatiable demand for uncomplicated expediency. Besides, playing to the gallery is a major vice of most political parties which is why their manifestos are absurdly contradictory.
In a sense, therefore, the crises Pakistan and Egypt face today is because of too much democracy. However, ironically, at the same time we in Pakistan face another crisis – the dilution of democracy. Take, for example, the intervention of the IMF in domestic policymaking. It has introduced conditionalities in every aspect of decision-making.
The IMF defines conditionality as "an agreement by a government to adjust its economic policies to overcome the problems that led it to seek financial aid from the international community". However, 'rule by the people for the people' is emasculated when the policy straitjacket of conditionality is worn. In other words, when governments sign up to IMF loan agreements, their decision-making capacity is limited because of the conditional nature of such agreements.
The loss of economic sovereignty is nowhere more evident than in our annual budgets, which will henceforth have to be reviewed by the IMF before they are submitted to parliament for approval. Inevitably, this will lead to the perception that the government is weak and incompetent. And because the burden of structural adjustment falls disproportionately on those who depend on subsidies – to which the IMF is deadly opposed – the conviction that the government is not merely unrepresentative and insensitive to public opinion but also illegitimate will gain traction.
And why not? A fundamental duty of the state in a democracy is to manage the economy in order to provide for the common good and if it cannot do that it can no longer claim the loyalty of the populace. But rather than confess to their disability, governments respond by curbing civil liberties to prevent social turmoil getting out of hand. And, soon enough, as demonstrators fall to police bullets, talk of a coup abounds. This is especially so in countries like ours and Egypt where the military has a history of intervening in politics.
The problem is that democracy is not really democratic. Consider the National Assembly, which is brimming with feudals and well-off urbanites, whereas the composition of our population is entirely different. To be truly democratic those in parliament should reflect the socio-economic background of the society they choose to represent and not stand out as an exclusive group. Although, to be fair, the large number of tax-dodgers in the assembly is fairly representative of the percentage of those who avoid paying taxes in the rest of the country.
What we require is a transformed republic and that requires brave revolutionaries. The kind that will stand up for Pakistan's best interests and bring back the millions currently disenchanted as a result of the mess at home. Above all, leaders who will squarely face up to the threat of extremism and not strike deals with terrorists.
It does not matter whether the new model republic is based on the western narrative of development – free market and representative democracy; or the Chinese party-state model; or the New Bolivarism that has reshaped the politics of Latin America, which also happens to be the first region to disavow neo-liberalism. What matters is that "the existential misery that breeds insecurity and fosters deadly hatreds" is brought to an end. If democracy can produce such leaders so much the better – if not, who cares?
The writer is a former ambassador.
Email: charles123it@hotmail.com