Democracy will not go back into the bottle

Gen Musharraf appears to have won this round, but the people of Pakistan are sure to win the next. What has changed is that the judges are on the side of the people.

It is a balmy November day in Karachi – cool breeze, warm sun, blue skies dotted with wispy clouds. The ubiquitous cheel birds circle lazily overhead, emitting occasional trilling calls. The jarring kaw-kaw of the feisty black crow atop an electric wire or a neem trees cuts through the sound of the heavy traffic on the congested streets of this sprawling metropolis, a microcosm of Pakistan's ethnic, religious and cultural diversity. The markets are buzzing with activity today – cell phones and Internet connections hopping, schools are having their annual concerts, the middle classes are attending birthday parties and cricket matches, while the rich participate in golf tournaments.

Indeed, on the face of it, life goes on pretty much as normal here in Karachi, despite General Pervez Musharraf's announcement of emergency rule on 3 November, which plunged the country back into de facto martial law. But the general's actions have highlighted another ongoing struggle that, in the long run, will affect everyone: the struggle not for physical survival or material benefit, but for a political system of representation and accountability that will empower the people and change the exploitative status quo.

The general's Provisional Constitution Order (PCO) of 3 November suspended the Constitution and that document's enshrined fundamental rights. As such orders always do, it required the country's judges to take fresh oaths. The move ended the speculations that had been grist for the media mill, gaining intensity as 15 November approached – the day that Gen Musharraf's presidential term was to end. But all this was happening as the political struggle in Pakistan was gaining unprecedented momentum, fed by the media and the lawyers' movement.

If ever the idiom 'information is power' was demonstrated, it was here in Pakistan. When Geo TV, the country's first live, 24-hour news channel, was launched in 2002, its correspondents quickly began telling people what was really going on – in Urdu, the widely understood people's tongue. Many other independent television channels have cropped up since then, providing not just information but also analysis. Television was already a platform for conservative viewpoints that have found play since the Afghan war and Pakistan's cooption into the jihadist war against communism. But for the first time, this public platform became available to progressive viewpoints, which had long been barred from reaching the public. This is the worldview that demands a democratic system of governance, peace with India, and accountability not just from politicians but from the military.

Quoting the Constitution

In this situation, Gen Musharraf's attempt to suspend Chief Justice Iftikhar Muhammad Chaudhry this past March, on charges of misuse of authority, catalysed a political movement and created an unlikely hero. The mild-mannered, slightly cross-eyed Chaudhry was among the judges who had taken oath under the general's first PCO, in 1999, when Gen Musharraf became General-President Musharraf. In so doing, Chaudhry had become part of a long tradition of the Pakistani judiciary validating military coups that suspend the Constitution and oust elected governments. Pakistani judges have coined the term 'doctrine of necessity', citing the 'national interest' as a basis on which to justify these undemocratic takeovers.

On the back of the recent Pakistani media revolution, however, the year 2007 saw the first-ever energetic movement against the 'doctrine of necessity'. Advocates argued for this idea to be buried for good, and urged the judiciary to stand up for principles rather than the 'national interest' as defined by narrow interest groups. For the first time, the judiciary seemed inclined to agree. The hint had been there earlier in the Supreme Court's increasingly proactive role in the cases of enforced disappearance, which have risen alarmingly since the start of the 'war on terror'. The media has also played a crucial role by getting the issue out into the open, thereby generating public awareness and facilitating collective action by the aggrieved families. As the Supreme Court, under Chaudhry, took these matters particularly seriously, a flutter of alarm was felt amidst Pakistan's powerful intelligence agencies.

It was this push for accountability, coming as it did just months before the issue of Gen Musharraf's re-election as president, that appears to have provided the trigger for the 'suspension' of Chief Justice Chaudhry. To the astonishment and admiration of millions watching this power struggle live on television, the chief justice refused to go. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then the image of the composed chief justice sitting across from the uniformed general said it all – as did the subsequent image of policemen grabbing Chaudhry by the hair and pushing him into an official car. All of this was nothing less that inspiring to the populace.

Chief Justice Chaudhry's peaceful defiance – a term that activists are increasingly using in the ongoing struggle against martial law – catalysed the four-month-long lawyers' movement that came to symbolise the decades-long struggle for constitutionalism and against military rule. Though no great orator, people across the country were fired up by the words of the chief justice, and all he did was quote from the Constitution.

The national media have likewise played a crucial role in sustaining this struggle, by providing information – and images – of the protests and police action. The climax came on 12 May, when Gen Musharraf and his political allies in Karachi stopped Chaudhry from entering the city. Worse, armed gangs were allowed to hold the city hostage, with the police ordered not to intervene. More than 40 people were killed in the crossfire. When armed gangs realized that Aaj TV was filming and broadcasting their actions live, they suddenly turned their fire onto the Aaj building itself. Viewers watched for several hours as reporter Talat Hussain updated viewers while ducking behind a desk. The images were up on the Internet in no time.

Gen Musharraf, until now proud of the freedom he had 'allowed' the media, was startled into trying to stuff the genie back into the bottle. But that, as the younger activists might say, ain't happening. The supposedly independent Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority quickly issued new guidelines to all television channels in an attempt to curtail live coverage. But the 'recorded' label on subsequent footage could not disguise the intensity of the movement, nor the drama provided by the sight of black-coated lawyers defying police brutality as they took to the streets throughout Pakistan.

Hand-picked democracy

The stand-off between the judiciary and the general ended in July, when a full bench of the Supreme Court reinstated Chaudhry. The court returned to the cases of the disappeared with renewed zeal, and took up other matters related to police brutality. But the most significant case pending was that pertaining to Gen Musharraf's re-election as president while still holding the office of army chief. It was the (well-founded) belief that the Chaudhry Supreme Court would deny him his presidency that finally made Gen Musharraf throw all propriety to the wind, announce the PCO and impose virtual martial law, 'suspend' the judges who refused to sign on, and suppress the media.

While the civil society – led by the lawyers and journalists – went ballistic, the general went doggedly about his business of appointing pliant judges to the bench, and caretaker ministers at the central and provincial levels for elections he announced for 8 January. Somewhat unsurprisingly, on 22 November the new judges dismissed the challenges to Gen Musharraf's re-election as president, clearing the way for him to remain in office for another five years. In the meantime, at a time when the civil society was hoping for the political parties to pick up the momentum in the fight for democracy, Benazir Bhutto agreed to joint the elections. And so, what was appearing to be a definitive struggle has once more been compromised.

Such political darkness is nothing new for Pakistan and Pakistanis. For most of the country's 60-year history, it is the men in uniform and jackboots who have governed. For most of the country's history, the executive and judiciary have been ranged against the ordinary people. Pakistanis won independence from the British colonists in 1947, but the rulers never stopped colonising their own people. Pakistan's 'smaller' nationalities, bitter at the promise of a federation, are alienated from the Centre. Ordinary Pakistanis had to continuously resist the tyranny and attempted hegemony of religion and nationalism that the state, and the rightwing non-state actors, have sought to impose. Crucially, amidst the sea of disenchantment, over the last three decades a small but vocal civil-rights community has developed.

Pakistanis have long seen the promise of democracy being dangled before them, though usually far out of reach, precluded by the military's stranglehold. (As someone once famously said, "Most countries have an army, but in Pakistan the army has a country.) But over the last year, this promise finally seemed to be coming within grasp, particularly with the country's judiciary finally standing with the people rather than with the establishment. But now the dream of democracy seems set to remain just out of reach. The caretaker government installed to oversee the upcoming elections is comprised of Musharraf loyalists, and has no credibility. The general has manoeuvred in such a way that he is back firmly in the saddle: mandated not by the people of Pakistan but by hand-picked judges.

Nevertheless, the struggle will continue. Lawyers are refusing to accept the 'PCO judges'. Ordinary citizens are honouring the 'real' judges, visiting their homes and presenting them with flowers and notes of appreciation. Journalists have vowed to continue their struggle for media freedom. The political parties, some discredited less than others, are getting back into the fray. One way or another, Gen Musharraf is certainly going to have a tough time stuffing the democratic genie back into the bottle.

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