The Tribune, Chandigarh, India

Coalition crisis
Jolt to Pakistan’s democracy

THE increasing distrust between the two principal constituents of Pakistan’s ruling coalition — the PPP and the PML (N) — over certain key issues, including that of reinstatement of the sacked judges, has finally led to their parting of ways. Mr Nawaz Sharif’s party has also announced its candidate for contesting the September 6 presidential election against the PPP’s Asif Ali Zardari. This is, however, not surprising as the traditional rivals were compelled to remain united as long as President Pervez Musharraf was on the scene. In the absence of the Musharraf factor, they had to find a cementing basis to sustain the coalition, but they failed. The PML (N) will now sit in the opposition in parliament. The development is a serious blow to the process of restoration of democracy in Pakistan. As it appears today, the PPP-led government may manage to survive at this stage with support from parties like the MQM, but its future remains uncertain. The crumbling of the coalition will weaken the government and embolden the forces of terrorism.

The tragedy of Pakistan today is that both Mr Zardari and Mr Sharif have virtually abandoned the cause of democracy. They are busy protecting their own party and partisan interests. If Mr Sharif’s inflexible approach on the question of restoring the judicial status quo ante has not been conducive to finding a way out of the crisis, Mr Zardari stands accused of dishonesty in honouring his commitments. In this tug of war, Mr Sharif appears to have got the upper hand insofar as the voters are concerned. But he was isolated in the coalition, with the smaller constituents — the JUI (F) and the ANP — throwing their weight behind the PPP because of their own compulsions.

The uncertainties caused by the exit of the PML (N) from the coalition will only add to the chaos and confusion that prevails in Pakistan. Mr Zardari and Mr Sharif ought to have been more accommodating of each other’s position, especially on the issue of the judiciary, at least in the interest of the democratic process that was set in motion with the holding of the February elections.

Strikes vs people
Political parties resorting to wrong tactics

Parties at both ends of the political spectrum appear to be united when it comes to disrupting normal life. The BJP, that is supposed to play the role of a responsible opposition party, has for electoral reasons made the life of ordinary people in Jammu and elsewhere miserable over an avoidable issue. Srinagar is under curfew after violence. Air, train, bus and banking services were disrupted in parts of the country, especially in the Left-ruled states of West Bengal, Tripura and Kerala, last Wednesday in protest against the price rise and Central policies ranging from the private management of provident funds and pensions to the sale of stakes in state-owned companies. At Singur, Trinamool Congress chief Mamata Banerjee has launched a “satyagraha” over a land issue disregarding the Tatas’ ultimatum and West Bengal’s interests.

In a democracy every section of society has a right to express disapproval of government policies and decisions that hurt its interests. But there are civilised ways of voicing a protest or highlighting an issue. By blocking roads, stopping trains or hindering flights, the protesters only incovenience ordinary people. The poor are often the worst hit in such times. Innocent people lose their lives as the police uses force to restore order.

Politicians refuse to learn any lessons and brazenly violate orders of the apex court. Last year the Supreme Court had taken the Tamil Nadu government to task for organising a bandh. Strikes are often successful in states where the ruling parties encourage them. This is what has happened in the three Left-run states. With the electronic and print media so effective and so easily accessible, it should not be difficult for any party or section of society to air its point of view on any public issue. Why then take to the streets and stop peace-loving people from going out to earn a living?

Thought for the Day

If the policy isn’t hurting, it isn’t working. — John Major

ARTICLE

Musharraf’s record
Imposing emergency was a blunder
by S. Nihal Singh

IT was a cri de coeur (a cry from the heart), the retired General Pervez Musharraf’s assertion after his forced resignation that he had not left office in defeat. In fact, he was enacting yet again the Pakistani cycle of a military ruler seizing power to public acclaim, overstaying his welcome and having to leave amidst a cacophony of catcalls.

Yet there was poignancy about Mr Musharraf’s television good-bye, his long-winded recitation of achievements, an after-thought on the mistakes committed and a sentimental last figurative lump in the throat. Military leaders inevitably take power to save their nations and Mr Musharraf was no exception in suggesting that, facing an impeachment, he was resigning to save the country.

In reality, the General hastened his own departure by seeking to retain office. He imposed an emergency last November, sacked the Chief Justice of Pakistan and 60 other judges, fearing his manipulated re-election would be held invalid. What he did not anticipate was that the normally staid community of lawyers would light the match that would trigger a nation-wide revolt. Other occurrences such as Benazir Bhutto’s assassination added fuel to the fire, empowering political parties as well as the people to assert their rights.

It is time to assess Mr Musharraf’s record, now that he is gone, because his nine years in office coincided with momentous events which changed the face of Pakistani politics, despite the almost preordained umbilical cord that seems to unite Pakistan and the United States. First, it was the Cold War and Pakistan signed on as an American ally, then it was the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan that brought Islamabad as a protagonist on Washington’s side. And finally, on Mr Musharraf’s watch it was Nine Eleven and the inevitability of Pakistan abandoning the Taliban in a large measure to join Uncle Sam.

Mr Musharraf’s reign after seizing power started on a false note against the backdrop of the Kargil adventure having gone awry. But he proved to be a shrewd operator as he began to consolidate his power and the Army’s hold on the levers of civilian administration. Initially, the people welcomed the firm grip, as they have every time the Army has seized power in Pakistan after shorter or longer periods of civilian rule.

Mr Musharraf’s confidence grew as he found a rhythm in running the country. Pakistan’s spy agency, the ISI, was keeping a watchful eye on its support to the victorious Taliban in Afghanistan it had chaperoned and on orchestrating jihadis of various kinds to keep the Indian Kashmir pot simmering. The General felt confident enough to try his hand at foreign affairs. His attempt at diplomacy with India at the Agra summit came to grief largely because he was grandstanding, rather than seeking solutions to complex issues. But he proved to be a quick learner.

The General’s most difficult time came with the devastating terrorist attacks on American soil on September 11, 2001, triggering President George W. Bush’s “war on terror” and a peremptory demand for Pakistan to fall in line. He really had no option but to undertake a 360-degree turn and agree to fight the Taliban while retaining some room for manoeuvre in deciding which Taliban prisoners to give at what stage into the black hole of Guantanamo to assuage American feelings.

Inevitably, Mr Musharraf made himself a terrorist target, despite his formula of building a king’s party and aligning himself with religious parties to keep the leaders of the two mainstream parties outside the picture. It was only when his fortunes were ebbing that he agreed to the American-mediated formula of teaming up with Benazir Bhutto, which would have enabled him to stay on in a diminished role.

However, Mr Musharraf did display a measure of panache in agreeing to a landmark agreement with then Prime Minister A.B. Vajpayee at Islamabad in January 2004. And he followed up the agreement with a cascade of “out-of-the-box” proposals on Kashmir. The great merit of these suggestions was that they kept the focus on talks, helped by a successful ceasefire agreement along the Line of Control.

The General’s misfortune was that problems kept multiplying on the domestic front, Pakistan’s law of gravity of alternate love affair with the Army as ruler and alienation from it was beginning to take hold. Even as pressure on him grew to take off his uniform and fix a date for elections, he felt more and more beleaguered. Elections were duly held to deliver an expected verdict, which apparently came to him as a surprise. In this frame of mind, he committed the greatest mistake of his political career by imposing the emergency and sacking the judges.

The character trait that forces generals to seize power also encourages them to believe that they have the answer to their country’s problems. Inevitably, they veer towards constricting democracy by redefining it – in Mr Musharraf’s inimitable phrase, the “essence of democracy”. The General was approaching the end of his political career, even after having given up his dear uniform to propitiate the democratic gods.

Is Pakistan then destined to live through periods of Army rule and fragile civilian dispensations? The good news is that civil society is feeling newly empowered and demanding better governance from politicians. The bad news is that the two main parties in the coalition – the Pakistan People’s Party and the Muslim League (N) – are at odds over how the country should be governed.

As a string of recent bombings would seem to indicate, the absence of a coherent functioning government is encouraging jihadis of various stripes to make their points, with or without the encouragement of the ISI. Regrettably, such activity is spilling over the borders of India and Afghanistan. Mr Asif Ali Zardari has skeletons in the cupboard and is wary of reinstating the Chief Justice, an irreversible demand of Muslim League (N) leader Nawaz Sharif.

Mr Musharraf’s legacy merges with the legacies of his fellow military predecessors. Although the Army believes that it is the periodic saviour of the country from self-serving politicians, Pakistanis seem to be ambivalent in their verdict.

MIDDLE

Stumped!
by Chitra Vaidyanathan

Today, I mourn the death of a tree. The tree was right opposite the road below our terrace. It was a Gulmohar tree which would bloom red like a “tree on fire”, spreading its ochre sparks all over our terrace every spring.

In the past, my husband and I had vehemently protested whenever there was any attempt to chop off its branches in the name of pruning. We informed the Horticulture Department (responsible for planting and maintaining trees on public land), dropped names of senior officials we had even passing acquaintance with, at the local Residents Welfare Association (RWA), threatening anybody who came near the tree with an axe with dire consequences.

But this time, it was marked. Officials from the Horticulture Department said it was dangerously tilted to one side.

Okay, it was tilted and it was dangerous to leave it like that. But who was responsible for that? A tree, as it grows, gives out branches on all sides evenly and not whimsically on one side. The residents, the educated lot of our locality, would get its branches chopped off according to their whims and fancies. Sometimes, a branch would get too close to somebody’s window blocking the sunlight, or say, provide easy access to the denizens of the tree, like the squirrels, into their house and he would do the needful and get the obstruction removed.

There were other valid reasons too. It was a haven for monkeys and consequently, monkey bites (those poor monkeys…. driven out of their homes by gross urbanisation). Okay, monkey menace is a serious issue and needs to be addressed but chopping off trees cannot be the solution.

And then, there were the unscrupulous ones who would use these excuses regularly to sell the wood for a petty amount. So over time, the magnificent tree lunged to one side and stood hovering precariously over the road.

The crooked tree touched the seams of our terrace. It was this tree in full bloom that clinched the deal when we were scouting for a house. It gave us the privacy that every urban dweller wishes for in his pigeonholed existence. We had had a swing installed on the terrace the first thing when we moved in.

Our terrace had a regular stream of visitors with the generous help of the tree, of course. The squirrels, birds of various hues, bees and an occasional monkey too. These guests kept us on our toes all the time, though. We could never leave the door to the terrace open as they would promptly enter the house and make themselves comfortable!

And it happened a couple of times when we were new to the place. Once we had a monkey enjoying a sumptuous spread laid out on the table; a baby squirrel, a frisky little one, stuck in a bucket in the bath; and a pigeon fluttering nervously inside the walls.

You should have seen the glee on my four-year-old son’s face when he saw the squirrel. He wanted to keep it as a pet. “It would die if we keep it inside. It also wants to be with its mother,” we made him understand.

In fact, he began to consider these visitors as a part of his family and we even gave them names. Thus began my son’s first lessons on nature and its bounty.

Everyday, at the crack of dawn, the birds chirped incessantly till they woke me up. Occasionally, one would hear an unfamiliar sound and I would strain my eyes to locate the source. And the immense joy it would give when I would spot a colourful species, uncommon to the region.

Now, the tree is gone. All that is left is an ugly stump. But hey, they have spared a few leaves sprouting on it and may be, yes may be, it might grow back to its past stature, that is if it is left untouched… but not in my lifetime.

OPED

Loss of hope
Professionals forced to leave Pakistan
by Laura King

THE honeymoon didn’t last long. For Rashid Shahbaz, a rail-thin day laborer, the surge of happiness he felt over President Pervez Musharraf’s resignation last week leached away all too swiftly, replaced by the same sense of anxiety that has tugged at him for months.

“How can I feed my family? How can I give my children a future?” he said, falling into step with other worshipers heading to noon prayers at a run-down neighborhood mosque in the capital. “That’s what I am asking God every day. Every single day.”

Pakistan, with its propensity for lightning-fast changes in the national mood, has swung in recent days from euphoria over Musharraf’s long-awaited exit to deep foreboding over whether its remaining leaders are up to the tasks of pulling the country out of an economic free fall and confronting a burgeoning Islamic insurgency.

Early signs were not auspicious. The coalition government, paralyzed for months by infighting, fell to quarreling again within hours of Musharraf’s resignation, and the alliance of the two main parties could unravel altogether in coming days.

Only three days after the sudden exit of Musharraf, who was military chief for most of his nearly nine years in power, Pakistan’s Taliban movement struck one its most powerful blows yet at the military establishment, staging a spectacular attack on a huge munitions compound outside the capital.

Nearly 80 workers from the weapons complex, almost all of them civilians, were killed in suicide blasts carefully timed to coincide with shift changes at the plant.

Moreover, the Taliban threatened to reignite a campaign of suicide bombings that plagued urban areas across Pakistan last year, killing and maiming hundreds. In big cities such as Lahore and Karachi, the sites of suicide bombings have become local landmarks, macabre reference points for mundane tasks such as providing directions.

Amid the ongoing turmoil, economic indicators have marched steadily downward. With inflation running at 25 per cent annually, prices for staples such as rice and bread have doubled or tripled in recent months. High petrol prices mean many people barely can afford to drive, or even buy a bus ticket to get to work.

Amid the long political deadlock over Musharraf’s political fate, once-robust stock prices slid so sharply that investors rioted last month outside the main Karachi exchange, which has shed almost a third of its value this year. The national currency, the rupee, has plunged to historic lows.

In the debilitating summer heat, frequent power cuts fray tempers and interrupt daily routines. Rolling blackouts afflict the entire country, including this once-orderly capital, which largely was shielded from such power disruptions until this year.

The unreliable electrical supply has created a new class of haves and have-nots: those who can afford home generators, and those who cannot, and swelter and suffer.

Many analysts see the country’s most pressing problems as inextricably linked: the fractious and disorganized government, the gloomy economic outlook and the emboldened Islamic insurgency.

“Unless the government appears to the outside world to be competent and stable, which it most certainly does not at the moment, foreign investment won’t be coming back, and economic recovery will be very difficult,” said Marie Lall, a South Asia analyst at the British think tank Chatham House.

“And a bad economy generates support for the insurgency – even in Pakistan, where people on the whole really do not want to be ruled by Islamists,” Lall added. “But the extremists are seen as the main alternative to the government, so in bad times, people turn to them.”

The United States’ ability to influence events in Pakistan is probably at its lowest ebb in a generation, according to analysts and even some U.S. officials.

Among Pakistanis, there is a strong sense of grievance against the Bush administration for its years of patronage of Musharraf. Although that support finally faded in the final months of his tenure, it continued long after his compatriots had decisively turned against him. America’s close ties to Musharraf were a long-chafing sore point, especially over the last 18 months as a nationwide pro-democracy movement sprang into being. Pakistani commentators routinely derided their leader as “Busharraf,” and demonstrators shouted in the streets, “Musharraf is America’s pet dog!”

Particularly repugnant in the eyes of Pakistani civil activists was the Bush administration’s failure to condemn the firing of dozens of judges during a six-week stint of emergency rule, when Musharraf also suspended the Constitution and threw thousands of opponents into jail.

But even among the many Pakistanis who rejoiced at Musharraf’s fall, his fate was viewed as a cautionary tale of what befalls a leader who has outlived his usefulness to Washington, D.C.

“This has reinforced the very cynical feeling Pakistanis have had for many years about the relationship with the United States — `They’ll use you, and then they’ll ditch you,’” said retired Brig. Gen. Naeem Salik, now a visiting scholar at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore.

The country’s downward spiral has left many of Pakistan’s educated professionals feeling they have no choice but to leave, further depleting a politically moderate middle class that in the past has served as a bulwark against extremism.

Omar Quraishi, the Op-Ed editor of the nationally circulated daily The News, listed the destinations of well-educated acquaintances who recently emigrated, or are preparing to do so. “One to America, one to Canada, two more to the U.K.,” he said.

“It’s not just whatever hardship they are experiencing at the moment,” he said. “It’s the loss of hope, the sense that there is nothing good ahead here for their children. That’s what makes people decide to go.”

By arrangement with LA Times-Washington Post

Of Olympics, national pride and development
by Philip Hensher

AS David Beckham kicked a football, Leona Lewis burst into song, a double-decker bus trundled into the Beijing stadium, and Boris Johnson took on the unforeseen role of flag-waving cheerleader, I wondered whether it occurred to anyone that perhaps the British are not all that good at this sort of thing. What does our nationality actually look like?

As our collective toes start to curl in anticipatory embarrassment, to remain locked in that position until the pageant of Britishness which will kick off the 2012 London Olympics, perhaps we ought to start to ask with some urgency what these games are going to mean to those of us who pay very little attention to sport in general and haven’t actually raised the remote control in the past two weeks. No, not even at the prospect of a British triumph in the Yngling or the cycle sprint.

How are they going to claim to represent us? What are we going to get out of it in the end? It’s mildly tragic that, these days, one of the easiest ways to fund a major redevelopment programme appears to be to host the Olympic Games.

As much as the eastern stretches of London needed transport links and investment, there seemed to be no political will to undertake that without the panem et circenses of the event. These days, the two weeks of running and throwing and swimming is a definite sideshow. The main event appears to come in two halves. The first is an indefinable sense of national pride; the second, a definable “legacy”.

Last year, I was in Athens, a mere three years after their Olympics. Travelling through the outskirts of the city, it was positively alarming how often one passed some elaborate Olympic project, already crumbling and abandoned to the weeds.

And if you go further back, the Sydney Olympics, despite all hopes, doesn’t seem to have inspired a generation towards sporting prowess. Australia came a relatively depressing sixth in the medal table this year.

Anticipation, in that case, appears to have been a more effective goad than memory of what, by all accounts, was a highly successful games. National pride is most effectively and lastingly excited in the case of small nations, winning on a small scale – the single bronze medal won by an Afghan boxer will have meant a great deal in Kabul.

More nebulous questions of “legacies” don’t seem to be justified by what the commentators are pleased to call “Olympic history”. Awarding the games to oppressively governed nations in the hope that international attention will persuade them to moderate their position has never worked.

The Soviet Union prematurely celebrated their games in 1980 by invading Afghanistan. The real legacy, I venture to predict, from the London games in 2012 will be an immense increase in surveillance and government control, above and beyond the horrifying levels now in place. All of this could not be easier to justify in the name of security threats to Olympic ceremonies, and it will not be removed once the Games are over.

This, we are told, is a chance to represent ourselves to the world, just as China has demonstrated that it has the money to commission foreign architects to build fanciful structures, and has the degree of control over its citizens to allow it to marshal immense displays of synchronised choreography. What can we do to show ourselves to the world?

Well, some of us, watching vast crowds moving in heavily drilled unison, do have a tendency to think the words “Leni Riefensthal”. One of the unfortunate features of Britishness is that its best features don’t quite lend themselves to representation in stadium form. Do your best with parliamentary democracy, the discovery of evolutionary biology and the invention of the internet, Lord Coe.

I’m quite tempted by the idea of a platoon of Elizabeth Bennets or phalanxes of black-clad Elizabethans in ruffs addressing themselves to skulls. More realistically, these days, a genuine display of British culture on the first night would mean dissolute regiments of Wags, paparazzi, Emos, chavs and sloanes, culminating in Miss Chelsy Davy in a bikini .

In any case, we shouldn’t forget that the summer of 2012 will not only see the London Olympics, but the Diamond Jubilee of the Queen. The London mob, I predict, will have no difficulty in exercising its immense capacity for sentiment and display in the direction it’s more used to, towards the golden coach and the small old lady with the big tiara.

In any case, once we start worrying about what the outside world thinks of us, and mounting ceremonies to address the question, we might as well give up on being British altogether. All together now: Nobody likes us: we don’t care.

By arrangement with The Independent

Delhi Durbar
Politics to verse

Lawyer-turned-politician Kapil Sibal is currently being feted for his anthology of poems “i witness”, which was launched last week at Maurya Sheraton Hotel.

Needless to say, it was an elegant evening as a mix of politicians, bureaucrats and socialites put in an appearance at the high-profile evening.

Finance Minister P.Chidambaram, Delhi Chief Minister Sheila Dikshit, National Security Adviser M.K.Narayanan and Ahmed Patel, the Congress president’s political secretary, were spotted listening to Science and Technology Minister Sibal talk about his foray into the world of verse, a far cry from the cut and thrust of political activity.

The minister’s friends from college and the legal fraternity had also turned up in substantial numbers to witness the arrival of “Poet Sibal” who kept the audience in thrall as he read a few of his poems in his rich, baritone voice.

Rustic talk

Although a learned scholar, Rural Development Minister Raghuvansh Prasad Singh’s rustic language amazes media friends. It is another thing that this is, perhaps, Singh’s way of communicating with his political constituency.

When Singh addressed the media recently about the progress on rural sanitation, newspersons hardly bothered to focus on the importance of the subject. Instead, every time he used the Hindi term for toilets, “Paikhana” it only evoked mirth and derision among friends from media.

A senior journalist couldn’t resist and finally said, “Professor saheb you are such a learned scholar, don’t you feel bad handling this department?” Singh, however, ignored the sniggers and continued with his detailed explanations.

Stake sale plans

Despite objections from Chief Minister Narendra Modi, Energy Minister Saurabh Patel is keen on selling a 20 per cent stake in Gujarat State Petroleum Corporation to raise Rs 6000 crore.

The state-owned firm also plans to make a Rs 1-crore film for the IPO roadshow and is looking for a film-maker. An IPO has become essential because the corporation badly needs funds. Last month, Modi had ruled out any plans for an IPO, but the GSPC management and Patel hope to change his mind.

Tailpiece

Dark humour surfaced after Haryana announced cash prizes for its medal-winning Olympians. “Thank God, US swimmer Michael Phelps, who has won eight gold medals, was not born in Haryana. Otherwise, the government would have gone bankrupt”.

Contributed by Anita Katyal, Faraz Ahmed, Bhagyashree Pande and Ajay Banerjee

Corrections and clarifications

n Front page item “Justice Nirmal Yadav not to hold court for time being” (August 23) should have referred to it as “cash-and-carry case” and not as published.

n Referring to the item “21 per cent pay hike for the Central, Defence staff” published on page 1 and continued on page 15 on August 15, reader A.N. Gupta of Indri (Karnal) says the lines from 6 to 9 of Para10 are: “The raise takes into account the commission’s miscalculation of the DA— absorbed in the new basic pay as 74 per cent whereas it should have been 83 per cent”. To make up the 28 per cent fitment benefit as recommended by the commission to 40 per cent works out the difference of 12 per cent of the pre-revised pay/pension on account of conversion of dearness pay/pension into DA. As such DA should have been added to the pre-revised pay/pension at the rate of 86 per cent (ie 50 per cent+12 per cent+24 per cent) of pre-revised pay/pension instead of 74 per cent (i.e. 50 per cent+24 per cent). It is obvious from the above that DA should have been 86 per cent instead of 83 per cent.

Despite our earnest endeavour to keep The Tribune error-free, some errors do creep in at times. We are always eager to correct them.

We request our readers to write or e-mail to us whenever they find any error. We will carry corrections and clarifications, wherever necessary, every Tuesday.

Readers in such cases can write to Mr Amar Chandel, Deputy Editor, The Tribune, Chandigarh, with the words “Corrections” on the envelope. His e-mail ID is: amarchandel@tribunemail.com.

H.K. Dua
Editor-in-Chief