In the name of the Lord, now go

Cromwell’s words to the Long Parliament apply with equal force to Pakistan’s stricken prime minister. When he heard a couple of speeches Cromwell got tired and said, “You have sat too long for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!”
While there can be different opinions about the Supreme Court verdict holding Yousuf Raza Gilani guilty of contempt, and in a nation of lawyers we’ll keep arguing on this point until the cows come home, the fact remains that their lordships have spoken and unless an appeal is proffered against their judgment – although what good that will do is not at all clear – it stands. And the consequences flowing from it have to be faced, by the government and the rest of the political edifice.
Presidency and PPP core committee will go into a huddle. Of this we can be sure. Given the speed of decision-making for which this government is famous no one can be sure how long these confabulations last. But after having been convicted of contempt, even if the punishment lasted for no more than 30 seconds – the time it took for the court to rise – the question is whether a condemned man can remain a member of the National Assembly and, by extension, remain prime minister?
In any other democracy such questions probably would not be asked. The prime minister would have resigned by now. We still may be taken by surprise and before the day is over (I am writing this on Thursday morning) we may have Gilani delivering a statesmanlike address before the National Assembly and announcing his departure into the sunset. But this is us and this is the PPP and this is our political class. So doing the right thing and doing it quickly, and not suffering vain excuses, is perhaps too much to ask.
When Hitler’s armies were slicing through French defences in May 1940, Leo Amery directed the same Cromwell words at the then British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain. We do not face similar events and there are, sadly, no Churchills and Chamberlains about. But the call is relevant: Gilani has been around for too long and there isn’t much by way of exciting achievement that he can cite.
We say Zardari was an accidental president. No less a creature of accident has been Gilani, a provincial politician – nay, a district-level politician – raised by circumstances to the prime minister’s office.
He could have surprised us all by showing a fund of talent none of us would have been aware of previously. He could have surprised us by his performance. But he preferred to play a limited overs’ game. When he had a chance to be other than Yousuf Raza Gilani he stuck to being Gilani and the results are before us: allegations of corruption touching not only himself but members of his immediate family, lurid tales of living it up in London, a taste for the gaming tables, a fondness for clearing the shelves at Harrod’s.
It is not the audacity of third world leaders which so amazes as their lack of imagination. They do stuff which is so predictable: Harrod’s, gaming tables, an excessive fondness for needless state visits, living it up at state expense. Gilani has prided himself on being the longest-serving Pakistani prime minister. He has seen it all for four years. By all accounts, fortune has smiled on him and his family during this period, their collective worth, by the grace of God, multiplying many times over. Quitting when ahead is a safe betting rule. But we are talking of Pakistani politics and letting go even of the crumbs in our possession is just not part of the national style.
The PPP is wedded to the conspiracy theory of politics – that the courts and the elements and the stars have always conspired against it. This makes for a likely story but it is far from the truth. During the past four years no one has conspired more against the PPP than the PPP itself. The PPP its own worst enemy: that’s more like it.
Granted conditions were bad but could any party in power have conducted itself as cavalierly as the PPP, turning cronyism and shady money-minting into the leading principles of policy? We’ve had shoddy governments before but what we’ve seen over the past four years deserves a special prize.
It’s no good saying that dictatorships are not held to account and popularly-elected governments are victims of exceptional censure. Democratic governments must hold themselves up to different, indeed higher, standards of conduct. Otherwise what’s the difference between them and the other kind?
The government takes pride in the passage of the 18th Amendment and the consensus over the National Finance Commission Award. These are triumphs on paper and poor consolation for such tangible problems as inflation, lack of jobs and prolonged power cuts. To pour salt over national wounds are stories of high-level corruption. Hard times are more bearable when everyone seems to be in the same boat. The inequality of things makes for resentment and anger.
Agreed, Memogate may have been a conspiracy against Zardari. But then there was no shortage of people who spoke up against the machinations associated with that affair. There has been also no shortage of well-meaning souls arguing that democracy should be protected at all costs and that in this regard the government should complete its constitutional term. But should this argument become a never-ending alibi for systematic and entrenched mis-governance?
There’s no point in beating about the bush. The high priest of mis-governance has been the prime minister himself. No one can deny him the possession of sharp political skills. The way he has kept the National Assembly humoured, across the spectrum, is a lesson in the art of higher political management. But as an administrator and head of government – a position calling for a sense of vision and an awareness of larger issues – lack-lustre is the word that comes to mind.
Strange have been the ways of the Zardari PPP. In its book politics is not about performance or delivery but keeping people happy, which comes down to being adept at dividing the loaves and fishes of office and patronage among allies and hangers-on.
Four years is how long the First World War lasted. It is an eternity in politics, especially in a climate such as ours. Four years of Mr Gilani’s sartorial elegance – and on this score he has done us proud, no nation being able to wish for a more well-turned out prime minister – but any more of it and a hard-pressed nation, having to endure so much else, may not be able to take it.
So why doesn’t the prime minister do us all a favour and don the robes of a political martyr? They will suit him. They usually do after a period in the sun. And they will take everyone’s mind off the other stories surrounding his person. The House of Gilani reinvented: that should be something to look forward to.
But trust this government not to disappoint. The federal cabinet, as could have been expected, has decided that there was no reason for the prime minister to step down. The prime minister himself has delivered the following gem: “Pakistan’s future would have been different had the law of necessity not prevailed in the case of Molvi Tamizuddin.” Did we hear this aright? What has Molvi Tamizuddin’s case got to do with the prime minister’s case?
Democracy is condensed milk and concentrated soup. The boredom that it takes a dictatorship to inflict in ten years a democracy can do in half that span. So after the government’s latest constitutional interpretation, and we were in no position to expect anything different, I suppose we are stuck with a year more of the same.
To make matters more daunting it is not one Gilani we are talking about but an entire phalanx of them...all doing too well for a sense of envy not to arise in my breast. In our history we’ve had Ayub Khan’s progeny and they were something. We had Moonis Elahi and he set new standards of entrepreneurship. Now the Gilani kids are all over the place. Our luck never seems to run out.
Email: winlust@yahoo.com