Demonising democracy

Legal eye
The writer is a lawyer based in Islamabad.
So who is demonising democracy, khakis or civvies? The state of Pakistan’s politics and security today creates a dilemma for those standing on the civilian side of the civil-military debate. Should one chide the khakis for developing a powerful narrative that politicos are lewd and depraved and good-for-nothing when it comes to leading the country out of the woods? Or should one blame the politicos for honing this narrative by continuing to make hay while the sun shines and gleefully handing over the reins of power to the khakis?
Should we be mad at the khakis for having the institutional sense and ability to make use of opportunities created by the politicos themselves that present the khakis in favourable light? Should we be mad at khakis when media flashes photos of soldiers rescuing the wretched from savage floods alongside those of the country’s president vacationing in France? Should we be mad at the khakis for being more in sync with public sentiment when it comes to terrorism or natural disasters while the politicos grudgingly following their lead?
There is reason to be mad at the state of rule of law and human rights in a country where the army chief is the ultimate judge, jury and executioner, confirming death sentences awarded to those arrested by men in khakis under his command and convicted by men in khakis under his command. But should one be mad at the khakis who sought such powers? At the politicos who granted such powers through a unanimously constitutional amendment? Or at the judges who, while declaring independence of judiciary to be a basic constitutional feature, ruled in favour of soldier-judges trying civilians?
We have heard the gory tales narrated by Saulat Mirza while on death row implicating the top leadership of the MQM in violence and crime. We’ve read confessions of politically sponsored target killers in JIT reports portraying the frightening reality of the killing field Karachi has become, reports about the Baldia colony factory being burnt along with workers over the owner’s audacity to negotiate the quantum of extortion demanded, reports about the employee of a hospital administering lethal injections to political rivals? Is this stuff made up?
We have heard stories of loot and corruption. We heard about positions of heads of statutory bodies and corporations being sold to highest bidders. We heard about thanaas being sold on upfront payment, to be recovered by the winning SHO in due course. A prime minister walked away with a necklace donated by the Turkish first lady for flood victims. He claims he held on to it for safekeeping as the donor was like family to him. The recently released emails by Hillary Clinton include accounts of a US ambassador convincing President Zardari to pay more attention to Pakistanis affected by floods. Can anyone make this stuff up?
But the PPP and MQM would have us believe that the drive against terror and arrests of their leaders is a witch-hunt. Should one stand with the PPP and MQM and help them use the evergreen ‘threat to democracy’ as a shield to evade legal accountability for their sordid acts?
A false argument being used to try and delegitimise the civilian-run accountability component of the Karachi operation is that NAB and the FIA initiating actions in Sindh without the Sindh government’s permission violates the constitution. Notwithstanding omission of the concurrent list through the 18th Amendment, criminal law and criminal procedure remain concurrent legislative subjects pursuant to Article 142 of the constitution – ie in case of inconsistency between federal and provincial laws in these areas, the federal laws must prevail.
The federation’s executive authority extends to matters in respect of which parliament is competent to make laws (Article 97). The FIA and NAB exist under validly promulgated federal laws and to the extent they are taking cognizance of matters they have the authority to investigate, they need not seek permission from any chief minister (or the prime minister for that matter). The conceptual flaw in the argument is rooted in the belief that political accountability is a substitute for legal accountability. It is not.
If that were true, all elected representatives would be immune from all forms of legal accountability. The entwining of crime and politics is a problem not limited to Pakistan, but one confronting most developing democracies. But one rarely hears the argument being made elsewhere that being elected by the people confers on a representative the licence to indulge in crime or corruption. Our constitution and common sense both suggest that modes of political and legal accountability are designed to be complementary.
Politics is a dirty business, not just in Pakistan but everywhere. Soldiering is not, except under dictatorships when soldiers and politicians are indistinguishable. Compare approval ratings of soldiers and politicos in any country and politicos will be put to shame. But we don’t see such comparisons elsewhere for it is like comparing apples and peaches. Soldiers fight for the country and are the helping hand during natural disasters. They are loved everywhere. Politicians deal with public authority, funds and state largesse and are the targets of public angst everywhere.
Pakistan’s problem is that here politicos and soldiers are compared and presented as alternatives. The public perceives the army chief as an alternative to the prime minister (and opposition leaders), and the military’s perception of its own role in the state doesn’t find such public perception out of place. And herein lies the dilemma of those consumed by the civil-military imbalance concerns.
The military has the organisational ability and autonomy to execute the Karachi operation and clamp down on violence and terror, whether politically sponsored or not. Given that it has been part of the problem and authored policies that created silos of violence and terror that are now festering, the silos can only be decommissioned with military taking the lead. But in a country that has selective memory and where the military retains the ability to control the popular narrative surrounding the historical, it is easy for an incumbent military high command to get infected by the saviour complex.
And this is what sceptics fear when they hear news of politicos being arrested by the Rangers under the anti-terror law. The military’s performance and approval rating has to do with the military’s job description, organisation and discipline. Make General Sharif the prime minister and his journey from popularity to controversy will be swift. Even in the realm of internal security, so long as the military focuses on terror and its financing, its approval ratings will remain high. But the moment it succumbs to the saviour complex and aims to cleanse the political stables or eradicate corruption, it will be headed down a slippery slope.
Thanks to the military, a terror and intolerance-infested Pakistan has been pulled back from the brink. But the fight is far from over. In Karachi a campaign is underway to thwart organised violence, notwithstanding its sponsors. In Punjab, the state finally seems willing to clampdown on sectarian terror. The demand for public accountability is also growing. Sensing the mood, the military has finally held a couple of its own generals to account. NAB and the FIA might also be waking up to their obligation to hold corrupt public office-holders to account.
Pakistan might be witnessing the breakdown of an entrenched elite consensus that the state will stand with power elites at all times no matter how filthy or criminal their acts. This is the best thing that could happen to Pakistan. Political parties that insist on defending the perverted elite consensus deserve no sympathy in democracy’s name.
But one thing that can scuttle this unfolding progressive change is the military overplaying its hand. What the military enjoys today is the limit of its power from behind the curtain. One step forward, and it’ll be in purely political domain in full public view. And its downhill from there on.
Email: sattar@post.harvard.edu