Is the silly season here?

The silly season is here it seems: the season of saving Pakistan from itself. Our incompetent and corrupt democracy doesn’t work we are being told. We are back at a crossroads – we are being told. If it weren’t for our battle-hardened, pro-accountability, right-thinking khakis we would have fallen apart – we are being told. If we let dirty politicos continue making hay while the sun still shines, there will be nothing left to save – we are being told. So is it time again for generals to sort out rotten politicos in the larger national interest?

Why can’t we move beyond this either-or debate? Can we not fathom that the manner in which we practise democracy needs to change – it is rowdy, dirty, leaving a lot of room to improve its character and quality – but the khakis are not the answer? Must we keep going back to the same failed ‘solution’ and arguments propagating it every 10 years? We had a bit of failed democracy in the 1950s and a decade of Ayub, a bit of failed democracy in the 1970s and a decade of Zia, a bit of failed democracy in the 1990s and a decade of Musharraf.

We seem to have come full circle again. The khakis take five to seven years to recover from public discontent with ‘democracy’ installed under their watch (which isn’t different from that practised by incompetent and corrupt politicos on their own). The first few years after a dictator’s exit see khaki disengagement from politics – cheered by all. Then comes limited reengagement (statecraft is too serious a business to be left to blundering politicos) – cheered by all. Then comes control from behind the curtain – on ‘public’ demand.

And then there is nothing remaining to be done other than assume direct control of the state to steer it away from the proverbial cliff. Post-Panama, we are in cliff-hanger mode. The khakis have been fighting our existential war with no help from corrupt politicos busy filling their pockets – goes the narrative. The chief, a decent man with no personal ambition, has been advising the government to put its house in order and focus on governance, without which terror can’t be fought. He has also advised that terror can’t be defeated if corruption remains rampant.

He has not just lectured civilians but exhibited zero tolerance for corruption by sacking senior officers, including generals, over graft charges without worrying about the morale of the troops, and has even shamed them by disclosing their names. Unnamed sources have asserted that he has advised the PM to clean up his Panama mess at the earliest. If even now the PM stubbornly refuses to come clean and political temperatures continue to rise hurting the fight against terror and national progress, what is a patriotic, no-nonsense soldier expected to do?

This isn’t about weaving a conspiracy or belittling the vital fight our soldiers are fighting against terror or glossing over defects of politicos in the name of the ‘system’. It is only to remind ourselves in this saviour season that past saviours failed to cure Pakistan of its ailments not because they didn’t want to but because they couldn’t. You can be the best hammer ever conceived. But if you show up to do a screwdriver’s job you’re in the wrong place. An honest general is not the solution to Pakistan’s myriad and complex governance problems.

The reason an army chief wields the power and influence that he wields is that he sits atop a well-oiled, resourceful and functional institution, which focuses on merit, training and human resource development, wherein self-correction and new ideas come along with succession planning and regular change of guard. The perennial problem of Pakistan has been its failure to develop functional and accountable institutions of governance and service delivery on the civilian side. An overbearing military and saviours exacerbate that problem further.

Fear of khaki intervention hampers the accountability of politicos instead of facilitating it. Those who see uninterrupted democracy and rule of law as the only sustainable solution to our problems wonder if they are unwittingly playing into the hands of praetorians when seeking strict accountability of politicos. An actual intervention cleanses even the unpardonable sins of elected representatives who have been thrown out by a dictator. With the saviour overhang, focus unnecessarily shifts from the actions of politicos to the motives of those pushing for their accountability.

During the five years of the Zardari-led rule, we were warned that writing a letter to Swiss authorities about investigating the Bhutto-Zardari assets was a conspiracy against democracy. We were told that it was for the people and not the courts to hold politicos to account and if proponents of accountability did not back down, the skies would cave in. The defence of the Sharifs against accountability and disclosure isn’t very different. While the PM is better at keeping appearances, his addresses to the nation on Panama have been all about victimhood.

Just as the skies weren’t going to cave in if Bhutto-Zardari assets were scrutinised, they won’t cave in if the Sharif assets are disclosed and scrutinised. We hear some typical arguments aimed at thwarting calls for accountability. One is some variant of ‘let he who hasn’t sinned cast the first stone’. In a state where formal systems of justice are non-performing and democracy isn’t allowed to continue interrupted, there is no consensual political or legal mechanism through which the innocence or guilt of a politico can be definitively established.

In this environment the first line of defence (to use my friend Ejaz Haider’s term) is ‘whataboutery’. We see the Sharif flock use it without restraint these days. How can those with tainted reputations or those who keep the company of offshorers claim moral authority to ask questions about the PM’s financial integrity, they bellow. This is a bad argument. Two wrongs don’t make a right. Even if the one asking a valid question has evil motives, it doesn’t render the question invalid. Opposition politicos asking questions are like lawyers pleading a case. It is the people of Pakistan who form the jury and deserve answers.

The second flawed argument is that accountability must either be political or legal, and the accused is innocent until proven guilty. Politicos, when charged with an offence, are often held accountable politically and legally and both modes can operate simultaneously. Within the legal domain, the accused is considered innocent until proven guilty. But in the political domain it is ‘reputation’ that matters more. The legal system might not convict you, giving you benefit of the doubt, but lack of conviction isn’t a verdict confirming innocence.

That the PM has thankfully agreed to present his case before a commission of inquiry is no substitute to his addressing serious allegations that taint his reputation by presenting facts before parliament and, consequently, before the people of Pakistan. If the PM chooses to hind behind longwinded legal procedures and refuses candid disclosure while asserting the legal presumption of innocence, the ordinary prudent observer will reasonably conclude that the PM is refusing to come clean because he is not clean.

And the third argument is more of a threat: if you try and single out one political party head in a polity where everyone is dirty, the witch hunt will be rejected and the party head won’t go down alone but take the system along. In other words the ‘system’ is held hostage in equal part by civvies and khakis.

In the 1990s, the second choice of every political party was the khakis, the first being itself. In opposition, parties tried to dislodge the government even if it meant inviting the khakis. And when in power they threatened to take the house down if dislodged.

If the PM can’t offer disclosure, his day in parliament will be a zugzwang. Smelling blood, the opposition is happy to hunt even if it doesn’t get to feast. Are we back in the 90s?

The writer is a lawyer based in Islamabad. Email: sattar@post.harvard.edu