Who will Succeed
Musharraf?
By Ahmad Faruqui, PhD
Dansville, CA
A few days ago, General Pervez
Musharraf told an Indian TV channel that it was
not easy for him to give up the army uniform because
Pakistan needs “unity of command over important
organs of state, including the military, the political
[institutions] and the bureaucracy.” With
that one sentence, Musharraf laid to rest the
widely accepted notion that democracy is about
separation of powers.
Musharraf is Pakistan’s smartest politician.
In the beginning, he maneuvered the Supreme Court
to legalize his coup. Then he used a referendum
to become president, held parliamentary elections
as required by the Supreme Court, subsequently
used parliament to amend the constitution and
give himself authority to serve simultaneously
as president and army chief. So why has he not
asked parliament to approve a succession process?
The succession dilemma is not unique to Musharraf.
All military dictators grapple with it. Should
they or should they not develop a succession plan?
If they don’t, who will tend to their legacy?
And if they do, don’t they tempt their designated
successor to oust them in a coup?
Most military rulers who seized power illegally
live in a constant state of fear. All uniformed
pretenders to the throne have to be neutralized
by normal or early retirement.
For day-to-day operations, the uniformed dictator
appoints deputies in uniform. But the clever leader,
like Napoleon, elevates himself to a perch that
is beyond the reach of mere mortals. He creates
a close-knit network of allies that would make
it difficult for anyone else to even think of
waging a coup against him, knowing that they would
be ostracized from Day 1. That is why Musharraf
has made it clear that the present situation is
an exception to the norm, and he does not future
army chiefs as presidents.
While history is not a perfect guide, it does
provide a few examples of succession plans that
have worked and of those that have failed. In
Egypt, President Gamal Abdel Nasser had a designated
successor, Anwar Sadat, who did succeed him. And
the same happened to Sadat’s designated
successor, Hosni Mubarak.
Succession plans that have worked like clockwork
in the past may not work out in the future. Mubarak
has named no successor and functions without a
vice president. But there are rumors that he would
like his son to succeed him, as was the fashion
during the time of the pharaohs.
In Syria, Hafez al Assad had designated one of
his sons to be his successor but the son died
in a car crash. The second son succeeded Assad.
A similar process can be found in the absolute
monarchies of Jordan, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and
UAE.
So, in heavily regimented or monarchical Arab
regimes, the dictator is safely able to designate
a trusted lieutenant or son as a successor. But
in many other cases, the choice has gone awry.
The Shah of Iran hardly expected the Ayatollah
Khomeini to be his successor. Nor did Saddam Hussain
expect a Kurd to succeed him as president and
a shia as prime minister. But one can argue that
such violent situations do not represent the norm.
How has the drama of succession played out in
the Islamic Republic of Pakistan? When Zia, the
third military ruler, left the scene accidentally
in 1988, the army decided not to step in. Externally,
the war in Afghanistan was over and Zia was no
longer indispensable to the West. Domestically,
the army had been in power so long that even it
knew that people were tired of military rule.
Thus, the defensive walls that Zia had built around
himself crumbled instantly with his C-130 in August
1988.
Zia, like Musharraf, was never a popular ruler.
Nor did he have to deal with widespread agitation
in the streets. Once again the Musharraf analogy
presents itself. But for the “accident,”
he could have ruled indefinitely. Ironically,
the daughter of Zia’s nemesis, Benazir Bhutto,
succeeded him, hardly the person who would have
been on his succession list. Zia’s succession
plan went awry.
Gen. Yahya Khan, the second military ruler, was
essentially deposed in a coup carried out after
the fall of East Pakistan by the army and air
chiefs in December 1971. After that debacle, even
the army did not want the presidency and retreated
to the safety of the barracks. Power was transferred
post haste to the leading politician, Zulfikar
Ali Bhutto. Once again, a succession plan went
awry. Bhutto (the father) would hardly have been
on Yahya’s succession list.
Field Marshal Ayub Khan, the first military ruler,
was pushed aside by a popular revolt in 1969.
When anarchy threatened to bring him down, he
asked the army chief, Gen. Yahya Khan, to declare
martial law. Yahya agreed but only if Ayub would
step down as president. It is unlikely that Ayub
ever thought that Yahya succeed him as president.
Once again, a military leader’s succession
plan went awry.
Of course, one can argue that Ayub Khan was a
civilian leader. He had retired from the army
prior to the presidential elections of 1964. But
Ayub had continued to wear the field marshal’s
uniform during the 1965 war and on subsequent
anniversaries of that war. That meant he outranked
all other serving officers, including the army
chief. But the street revolt gave Yahya the pretext
he needed to overcome the army’s hierarchical
traditions.
Regardless of whether Zia’s crash was an
accident and whether Ayub was a civilian or a
field marshal when he was deposed, it is clear
that Pakistan’s military rulers have all
been succeeded by persons that were not in their
succession plan.
Ergo, the person who will succeed Musharraf is
probably not on his succession list. It may be
a civilian or a general. The choice will largely
be determined by the nature of his exit.
There are many out there who are hoping to succeed
Musharraf. An indefinite term of office is something
to covet, especially when it comes with a “second
skin.” Alas, only one will get the prize.
Who might that be? That is the $64 million question
best put to soothsayers.
No one expects Musharraf’s hand-picked prime
minister to succeed him nor do they have similar
expectations of the deputy chief of army staff,
who is hardly a household name. All we can say
is that Musharraf’s replacement will have
to present himself as an icon of enlightened moderation
to Washington, keep those nukes at bay and stay
active in the hunt for Osama. The one who endears
himself the most to Washington will walk away
with the prize.
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