Credit:UN Photo / Mark Garten

State of emergency follows broken promise to abandon military life.

Mario Canseco - Yesterday, less than 48 hours after issuing an unexpected state of emergency, Pakistani president Pervez Musharraf dismissed rumours about his alleged house arrest by saying he was due to play tennis later in the day. It is hard to assess what went through the mind of the political leader when he tossed the ball up before striking his first serve of the match. It is evident that most of the country did not enjoy as carefree an afternoon.

Hundreds of people have been rounded up for expressing their dismay at Musharraf’s latest political manoeuvre. Lawyers, opposition politicians and activists have been greeted with tear gas and batons for disobeying orders. Pakistan was supposed to hold a parliamentary election in January, but the president’s decision to suspend civil liberties in order to deal with militants and "hostile judges" is expected to delay the long-awaited democratic process.

In his televised speech to the nation, Musharraf claimed that inaction on the part of his government—in the face of "extremists roaming around freely in the country"—would amount to Pakistan’s "suicide." Later, Musharraf vowed to "remove my uniform once we correct these pillars in judiciary and the executive and the parliament."

Musharraf’s latest actions are hardly surprising. In October 1999, he came to power in a military coup, and later assumed the presidency. The 9/11 attacks made him an uncomfortable ally of Washington, yet the Bush administration has little to show for its presumed cooperation with Islamabad, which included the lifting of economic sanctions imposed after Pakistan—aided by technology stolen by Abdul Qadeer Khan—decided to develop nuclear weapons.

Just last March, Musharraf fired the country’s chief justice, Iftikhar Mohammed Chaudhry, after accusing him of abuse of power. Chaudhry had just called for an investigation on the fate of hundreds of alleged Islamic militants who had been detained or were listed as missing. Questions about the efficacy of Musharraf’s tactics are not limited to Pakistan. Two-in-five Americans queried earlier this year by Opinion Research Corporation said the U.S. should take military action in Pakistan if there is a chance to capture or kill high-ranking members of al-Qaeda, even if the government of Pakistan does not give the U.S. permission to do so.

In April 2002, as the war on terrorism progressed slowly, Musharraf called for a referendum to extend his presidential term until October 2007. With fewer than a third of voters bothering to cast a ballot, Musharraf secured another five and a half years at the helm. The October 2002 legislative election returned supporters of the president—as the world devoted its attention to the possibility of a war in Iraq—who in turn gave Musharraf the authority to dissolve the legislative branch with the approval of the Supreme Court. The line between executive, legislative and judicial powers began to blur even more.

Musharraf’s tenure has provided plenty of disappointments for democracy observers. He went back on a promise to step down as army chief in late 2004, and threatened to forbid former prime ministers Nawaz Sharif and Benazir Bhutto from taking part in political life. When reviewing his country’s role on the war on terrorism, Musharraf has appeared defiant, offering justifications about the "narrow alleyways" that make capturing militants so difficult.

U.S. state secretary Condoleezza Rice has called for the return of the "constitutional path", which undoubtedly entails Musharraf stepping down as commander of the armed forces. It is precisely this combination of posts—more akin to despots who have become extinct in this century—that had consumed the country’s Supreme Court as it pondered whether last month’s indirect presidential election was valid. Before a ruling was rendered, Musharraf contravened the division of powers and capriciously cited the same enemy he has failed to vanquish time and time again as a pretext for doing what he does best: rule by decree.

Public opinion has been particularly active in Pakistan this year. A poll by ACNielsen for worldpublicopinion.org showed that only a fifth of respondents think Musharraf is the best person to lead Pakistan. In a survey by the International Republican Institute, the Sharif and Bhutto parties garnered the support of 64 per cent of respondents—hardly an endorsement of the current government’s policies. The D3 Systems study for Terror Free Tomorrow gave Musharraf an approval rating of 39.1 per cent, with 61.1 per cent of respondents claiming Pakistan is headed in the wrong direction.

This past Saturday, Pakistan went from the exhilaration of pre-electoral wrangling to the sad realization of political uncertainty. Bhutto has vowed to carry on with her campaign, and Chaudhry remains one of the most outspoken critics of Musharraf.

The president, however, has chosen the tennis court to show the people that he is still in charge. Still, after breaking his promise to leave the army, and later jeopardizing the one democratic process that may have afforded him a smidge of legitimacy, Musharraf has double-faulted. This latest escapade has the potential to turn him into an updated version of either Hosni Mubarak—who has conveniently never lifted Egypt’s emergency rule—or the Shah of Iran: merely awaiting an uprising that could have been avoided.

Archive Search

Search the Angus Reid Global Monitor Politics In Depth archive.