Who is Taking Whom for a Ride?
By Karamatullah K. Ghori
Toronto, Canada
Confusion and chaos galore; thy other name is Pakistan.
Mian Nawaz Sharif may’ve thought he was triggering a diplomatic offensive, par excellence, the like of which had never been seen before in Pakistan when he announced his initiative to hold peace talks with the terrorism-friendly Taliban of Pakistan.
That supposedly ground-breaking move by the Mian came last January 29. Come to think of it, it has been nearly three weeks when the three-time-lucky Pakistani leader informed the nation that he was casting the dye in favour of peace, in marked preference over the use of force. But what has he to show, to date, by way of progress on his track record?
Well, more on Mian’s initiative in a moment. But, by the same token, what has the special court constituted, with so much elan, to try Pakistan’s erstwhile ‘commando’ strong-man, General Pervez Musharraf, on charge of gross misconduct and treason, to show on its score card?
The wayward commando has been formally on trial since last December 24, which works out to—give-and- take a few days—almost two months ago. But has the august court, too, much to show on its score card by way of progress? Sadly, the answer is no.
Musharraf and his team of clever lawyers have been playing hide-and-seek, literally, with the court. The supposedly suffering-from-a-heart-condition commando has been living it up in his posh VIP suite at the Armed Forces Institute of Cardiology, just as he had been savouring his ‘forced vacation’ in style at his billion-rupee luxury ‘farm house’ before the armed forces’ elegant retreat.
In the latest instance, the commando reluctantly decided to ‘honor’ the court with his belated personal appearance before it—only 56 days-too-late. But the total time he spent there was no more than a few minutes. The honorable court didn’t, perhaps, deem it befitting the exalted, though former, status of the accused to keep him in the hot seat longer than absolutely necessary. So he was allowed to leave the court room after making what could only be described as a ‘cameo’ appearance.
But that wasn’t all the story riveting the Pakistani nation’s attention on February 18. The real drama that transpired that morning was that the court still didn’t formally indict the man accused of gross treason; his foxy lawyers argued that the court must first rule on its own ‘eligibility’ to try the former ‘commando-in-chief.’ The commando thinks a court of ‘bloody civilians’ is below his exalted dignity to try him. He would settle for nothing else but a military court to covet the honour of trying him. With his experience of the armed forces hospital molly-coddling him, and pampering him like a prince, he may be pardoned for putting his faith in a ‘friendly’ military tribunal.
The surprise is that the honourable court has so far deemed it fine to give him a long rope leaving an already bemused people of Pakistan—and their compatriots in the outside world—further befuddled and intrigued. Poor Akram Sheikh, the government-appointed prosecuting attorney bursting with energy and zeal protested, robustly, but was overruled, to his utter dismay and to the chagrin of millions like him.
What explains this hard-to-be-missed foot-dragging by the court? Justice isn’t only being delayed, in this high-profile case, but is also being seen as such in its fullest dimensions. Who’s buying time, and why? Up until now it wasn’t a brain-teaser that it was Musharraf and his pack of smart lawyers that seemed so singularly intent on buying time, at all cost. But now the boot seems to be on the other foot. Why? The nation must not be blamed for making its own inferences—and drawing its own conclusions—from this obvious paralysis of justice.
And the pampering of a man accused of high treason had other manifestations, too, both inside the court room as well as outside of it.
For instance, a special podium, according to the media reports, was provided to the exalted military ‘hero’ in the court room, befitting his ‘stature.’ He wasn’t inconvenienced or denigrated by being seated in an ordinary dock. Outside, he was driven to the court in a convoy befitting royalty, with at least 1100 police and security personnel ensuring that no harm would come to him, en route.
And we still shout from every pulpit and roof-top that we’re an Islamic Republic . Educate me, someone, please: isn’t pristine Islam synonymous with absolute equality for everyone? So, the question is, will the Pakistani establishment—or rather the military establishment—provide the same security to everyone tried for treason?
Some coincidence, perhaps, but the same day two former—disgraced—PMs of Pakistan, Yusuf Raza Gilani and Raja Pervez Ashraf, were also summoned to a special court, in the same city, trying them for corruption. But they didn’t have Musharraf-like regal escorts or security; they had only their party jiyalas to keep them company.
And those with a better memory and sense of Pakistan’s tortured history should also recall how Zulfi Bhutto, an elected PM and Quaid-e-Awam, was literally dragged before the courts when he was tried on trumped-up charges for murder. What a macabre and bizarre twist of history that the man who triggered ZAB’s murder trial is today the most loud-mouthed lawyer-defender of Musharraf.
But, then, the men-in-khaki bristle when someone suggests that while other countries have an army, here, in the Land-of-the-Pure, the army has the state to itself. Yes, it just isn’t a state-within-the-state but the state. Louis XIV wasn’t the only one, in history, to boast that he was t he state (L’etat, c’est moi ).The proud Pakistan army has a better claim on the slogan, and on the title too.
Back to the cat-and-mouse game going on between the heinous Taliban and Mian Nawaz Sharif: the story there is no less intriguing and confusing, although ‘confusion’ would be too mild a word to describe the suspense in Islamabad that can easily put a Hitchcock to shame.
Mian Sahib felt quite smug and content when he passed on the buck to his court hack—Irfan Siddiqui—who’d been penning paeans of praise and adulation for his mentor for long before his third return to power. So Mian rewarded him not only with the status of a Minister in his government but also put him in charge of a team of equally lackluster non-entities. But his selection of his team of negotiators with the Taliban wasn’t a surprise to those knowing Mian Saheb’s caliber and regal style of governance. Because he can’t focus on anything, or subject, longer than a few minutes, he finds it convenient to put this or that courtesan of his in command of a task. That also jibes well with his regal mode of governance: a king doesn’t mess up his mind in an everyday affair.
However, tackling, or dealing with, a blood-thirsty cabal with the mindset of the pagans isn’t an everyday affair. It’s far too complex and tedious to be left to the limited comprehension of the likes of Irfan Siddiqui. But in Pakistan those new to the game of power have this blighted habit of punching way above their weight. Sky is the limit for their limitless ambition.
But the Taliban themselves have come to the rescue of Mian’s team of limited-intelligence- negotiators by refusing to give their favourite sport of blood-letting even a temporary respite. With hard-to-hide pride and conceit they have accepted responsibility for the heinous murder of 23 FC men who had been in their custody for some time. This mass murder has come quick on the heels of 13 police commandos killed in Karachi—a dastardly feat again proudly claimed by the Taliban.
Knowing that they are up against a diffident, clueless, PM Nawaz and a military establishment intent on letting him hoist himself on his petard, the TTP ( Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan) is rubbing salt into the wounds of the nation by still professing its ‘commitment’ and ‘resolve’ to talk peace with the government. The audacity of mass murderers and ruthless killers is amazing; they are accusing the government of not wanting peace.
This prompts an automatic question: what would it take to jog Nawaz Sharif into action? But that may, in fact, not be the right question. The right question should be, what would it take to force the hands of the khaki to end their agony and that of the country? It’s their jawans and officers being butchered by the Taliban, damn it. The predators have just murdered a young major of the army in a bomb blast in Peshawar; another major succumbed to his injuries sustained in southern Punjab a few days ago. The blood of the civilians may be cheap but will it also be the same for military blood? Let the Pindi brass answer. - K_K_ghori@yahoo.com (The author is a former ambassador and career diplomat)
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Back to Pakistanlink Homepage
