“Islam and its idealism have taught democracy," Quaid-i-Azam Jinnah reminded Karachi's Bar Association five months after Pakistan was born - Anadolu Ajansi
The Quaid Believed in Democracy. How Did Pakistan Slip into Dictatorship?
By Professor Stanley Wolpert
UCLA, CA
“Islam and its idealism have taught democracy," Quaid-i-Azam Jinnah reminded Karachi's Bar Association five months after Pakistan was born. "What reason is there for anyone to fear democracy?" Pakistan's Great Leader believed in democracy, as he did in justice, equality, fair play and freedom. Barrister Jinnah devoted his last decades of life to fighting for and winning an independent State of Pakistan, carved out of British India's Raj, upon Britain's withdrawal from South Asia.
Jinnah fought for Pakistan in order to ensure his Muslim followers full freedom to choose their own government, with equality of opportunity to vote for its leaders and to serve their own "Land of the Pure," which he feared would never be possible in "Hindustan," as he called India. "The establishment of Pakistan for which we have been striving for the last ten years," Jinnah told the Civil and Military Officers of Pakistan, "was so that we should have a State in which we could live and breathe as free men and which we could develop according to our own lights and culture and where principles of Islamic social justice could find free play." His ideal was for an independent, democratic Islamic Pakistan to grow into "one of the greatest nations whose ideal is peace within and peace without." Governor-General Jinnah believed in "representative government and representative institutions," but warned against the dangers of official corruption and "personal aggrandizement."
Always scrupulously honest himself, Jinnah was, as Liaquat Ali Khan called him, "unpurchasable." "We must subject our actions to perpetual scrutiny and test them with the touchstone, not of personal or sectional interest, but of the good of the State."
To the faculty and students of Edwardes College in April of 1948, Jinnah said: "I want you to keep your heads up as citizens of a free and independent sovereign State. Praise your Government when it deserves. Criticize your Government fearlessly when it deserves," but then he cautioned against "indulging in destructive criticism, taking delight in running down the Ministry or the officials." Jinnah's faith in elective Government was unequivocal. "With the removal of foreign domination, the people are now the final arbiters of their destiny," he told his nation in March of 1948. No "group" should ever "attempt by any unlawful methods to impose its will on the popularly elected Government of the day.
The Government and its policy may be changed by the votes of the elected representatives." Jinnah understood that the old days of British imperial rule were over, and that Pakistan's was a "people's Government, responsible to the people...on democratic lines and parliamentary practice...Make the people feel that you are their servants and friends," he urged East Pakistan's officers, "maintain the highest standard of honor, integrity, justice and fair play." Most unfortunately for Pakistan, however, Quaid-i-Azam did not live long enough to ensure general acceptance of his wise and noble democratic ideals in the land that he sired.
The War with India over Kashmir had already erupted, moreover, and was to continue draining Pakistan's precious limited resources, daily distracting its leaders for more than half a century of lost opportunities, shattered dreams and painful hardships. Instead of focusing national energy and resources on the creation of such vital democratic institutions as universal education, an independent judiciary, and full freedom of speech and the press, the lion's share of resources has been swallowed by an insatiable Army, wasted on futile wars and internal conflicts, sectarian as well as provincial. Why has Jinnah's dream of a democratic, prosperous and powerful Pakistan proved so elusively impossible to realize since his death?
Many factors have conspired to undermine the Quaid's vision, not least of which was his own early demise. But from its inception Pakistan's fatal weakness was the unbridgeable gulf that divided the Western Punjabi-Sindhi-Frontier-minority from the Bangla-majority of its impoverished East. The tenuous bond of Islam was not strong enough to keep bifurcated Pakistan unified, since far more than a thousand miles of India separated those two linguistically, historically remote Nation-States.
Their tragically violent division came twenty-five years after Pakistan's birth. Jinnah's genius brought united Pakistan to life, but his death left a leadership void that allowed every ambitious and greedy, feudal, provincial, and tribal chief to stake claims to power, provoking linguistic, provincial and sectarian conflicts, blood feuds and bitter personal rivalries that have robbed Pakistan of its brief dawn of national unity. Sindhis fought Punjabis, both of whom terrified Bengalis, and soon every Frontier tribe reverted to its own feudal code of violence, murdering Muslim neighbors, instead of embracing them as Pakistani-brothers. Nor did many Mullahs help reconcile such squabbles, using their religious powers to fan flames of sectarian violence and hatred, rather than teaching their flocks to love every Pakistani as their own brothers and sisters. Political leaders were either too weak, or too easily tempted by the seductive fruits of power, to stem the rot that quickly left most Pakistanis without hope, or faith, or food enough for their crying children. The only institution in Pakistan that seemed to function efficiently was the Army, whose generals grew sick and tired of windy political rhetoric. Finding the hollow words and endless squabbling of virtually all politicians too self-serving and useless to tolerate for more than a decade after the Quaid's death, the Army seized power from Karachi's "corrupt and incompetent" elected leaders in the first of three martial coups. Field Marshal Ayub Khan promised to "restore efficiency to Government," introducing what he called "Basic Democracy" to Pakistan's polity.
The basic difference between Ayub's martial "Democracy" and its universal civil form was that Ayub's eighty thousand "Basic Democrats," who alone could vote, were chosen mostly from martial families to "represent" Pakistan's some eighty million adults, most of whom were thus disenfranchised. The Quaid's sister, Fatima, tried her best to reclaim her brother's mantle, believing as he did in civil democracy.
At 71, frail Fatima ran against the Field Marshal as the Combined Opposition's sole candidate, but Ayub's martial poll guards and counters were quick to announce her "defeat." Her "defeat," however, cast its heavy pall of darkness over the land, lowering countless curtains of hope over the dreams and aspirations of millions of Pakistanis, who swiftly learned how "impossible" it was to enter a political ring against martial bullies, for even "the Quaid's own Sister" was beaten by them – Photo Pakistan Today
At 71, frail Fatima ran against the Field Marshal as the Combined Opposition's sole candidate, but Ayub's martial poll guards and counters were quick to announce her "defeat." Had Fatima been allowed to win perhaps her courageous example would have inspired generations of fearless and equally selfless young Pakistani women, as well as men, bravely to enter Pakistan's political fray, to risk their very lives and fortunes for the sake of their Nation. Her "defeat," however, cast its heavy pall of darkness over the land, lowering countless curtains of hope over the dreams and aspirations of millions of Pakistanis, who swiftly learned how "impossible" it was to enter a political ring against martial bullies, for even "the Quaid's own Sister" was beaten by them.
Had she won, Pakistan might have remained united, and could today be a vigorously thriving Democracy. But then Ayub would have had to return to his job as military commander-in-chief, a much less lucrative post than the one he initially enjoyed as "President." Ironically, Field Marshal Ayub, soon after being "elected" President in 1964, suffered a tragic martial defeat triggered by advice he took from his nefariously ambitious young Foreign Minister, Zulfi Bhutto. Bhutto goaded him into ordering Pakistan's Army over the Cease Fire Line in Kashmir, launching Pakistan's disastrous second War with India of 1965. Bhutto's realpolitik assurance of "swift victory" proved completely false, and when Indian tanks rolled within range of Lahore, Ayub wisely accepted the UN-brokered cease-fire, and a Soviet invitation to meet with India's Prime Minister Shastri in Tashkent.
Ayub's hitherto robust health suffered rapid deterioration soon after he returned home to face angry attacks from Bhutto and his supporters, for having not only "lost" the War, but also the Peace. So, he stepped down. General Yayha Khan, chosen by Ayub to replace him, also fell victim to Zulfi's feudal hospitality and wily ways. Yahya held national elections, which were won by Mujibur Rahman's Awami League, but refused to accept him as Pakistan's next Prime Minister, because Zulfi insisted that he should rule West Pakistan, where his People's Party had won a majority, leaving Mujib to preside over the Bengali East.
That set the stage for Pakistan's next lost War. Populist Sindhi Zulfi Bhutto was the only West Pakistani leader to "win" that Bangladesh War, emerging in its tragic aftermath, first as martial law "President," then as Prime Minister of the sadly diminished Pakistan he ruled and ravished for half a decade. Had Yahya been clever enough to ignore Zulfi's self-serving advice would Pakistan's unity have been saved by Prime Minister Mujib? Would the Quaid's "Land of the Pure" have remained a strong and prosperous democracy? The trouble with "Ify-history" is that no one can ever be sure of its "answers." Mujib was not much better than Zulfi, however, and certainly no Fatima! Were he accepted as Prime Minister, of course, that in itself would have bolstered Pakistani respect for free elections and democracy. Mujib was, however, as power-hungry as his Indian mentor, Indira Gandhi, and might tragically enough have ended up in Karachi or Islamabad just as he did in his own house in Dhaka, and as she did in her garden in Delhi.
Zulfi's destiny proved, in fact, to be much the same. Pakistan's Army, though painfully humiliated by its Bangladesh defeat, remained the only power capable of thwarting Bhutto's insatiable ambition, so he tried to ensure its support, promoting Major-General Zia ul-Haq, a seemingly modest man, over many higher-ranked officers, to its highest command.
Zulfi held democratic elections, but was too eager to win by so great a majority that no one could believe the accuracy of his count. He was, of course, also accused of "murder," and in July of 1977 arrested by his most trusted General, and less than two years later, hanged. Had Zulfi Bhutto been a more modest, honest, sober man, would Pakistan today be a vigorously thriving, prosperous democracy? Ify-history. General Zia announced, after arresting Prime Minister Bhutto, that he had seized power to "save" Pakistan. He also promised to return Pakistan "quickly" to responsible "elective" civil government, perhaps in "less than a year." Zia's coup lasted more than a decade; martial rule wed to conservative Islam, Mullah-Martial Law, locked over Pakistan's prostrate body politic. Zia's dictatorial rule was sustained by massive American arms aid and financial support as the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan placed Pakistan on the Front-Line of the Cold War's last major battleground in 1980.
The Soviet Union bled itself to death in that Superpower proxy War, after which the United States withdrew its forces from Pakistan and cut off all support. But zealous Zia remained determined to fight on, supporting his faithful Mujahideen, till his plane, with most of Pakistan's general staff and the American Ambassador locked inside, exploded shortly after takeoff in August of 1988.
Zulfi Bhutto's daughter, Benazir, returned home from self-imposed exile in London to lead Pakistan's People's Party in elections that brought her to Premier power, which she enjoyed for almost two years. President Ghulam Ishaq Khan, however, acting with the support of Pakistan's Army, removed Prime Minister Bhutto from office, after she and her husband were accused of gross "corruption" that threatened Pakistan's solvency, replacing her with opposition party leader, Mian Nawaz Sharif. It thus again became perfectly clear to every young and old Pakistani that nothing had changed in the relative power roles among Pakistan's martial, administrative, and political leaders, the first strongest, the latter weakest. "Ify" Benazir had been more like her British friend, Margaret Thatcher, perhaps, and less like her adored role model-mentor-father Zulfi, Pakistan might well have blossomed under her leadership into a rich and happy land of Democratic Freedoms, for all its women as well as men, allied in perpetual Peace to neighboring India, whose youthful Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, like herself, had inherited his Premier power.
They had even met once and seemed to like each other. But Rajiv soon lost the confidence of his own peers in Parliament, and shortly afterward lost his life to a Tamil suicide bomber. Benazir only lost the support of her President and Pakistan's Army. When General Musharraf seized power in 1999 from Prime Minister Nawaz, after he had a second crack at the Premier's bat (following Benazir's second strike out!), and then sent him off to Saudi Arabia, he promised to restore power to civilian government as "swiftly" as possible. He had "no interest” in a political career for himself, preferring, he said, to remain a good soldier. Immediately after the tragic disaster of September 11, 2001, General Musharraf agreed to join the US-led alliance against al-Qaeda, and Afghanistan's Taliban.
As America's Front-Line Ally in a global War against Terror, Pakistan's economy, which had hovered precariously close to bankruptcy under Benazir and Nawaz, was quickly restored to health, its armed forces beefed up as well. But with millions of Pashtu-speaking Pathans on the Frontier with Afghanistan, and almost as many Taliban in Karachi, Peshawar and Pindi, Pakistan seethed with highly explosive resentment, daily volatile, as well as vocal, opposition voiced against Musharraf's courageous decision to fight global Terror. The General himself became a prime target of assassins, and many Pakistani Mullahs denounced him.
Faced with such violent challenges and terrorist attacks, Musharraf insisted on holding a single question referendum that he considered a "Presidential election." Then he spoke of giving up his top job in the Army, in order to remain President for five years, but now he has changed his mind about that. His reluctance to relax his two-fisted tight grip over Pakistani power may be easy to understand, but can hardly be equated to democracy, which is, of course, always more "risky" than dictatorship. But in the long run freedom of speech and of the press, and the periodic holding of free and fair elections, are social safety-valves that help to keep most nations from blowing themselves up, acting as gyroscopes that keep great ships from floundering in heavy seas of criticism, drowning under waves of popular frustration.
Pakistan has a vast pool of brilliant, honest, wise citizens, capable of rising to this challenge, of voluntarily joining a "Quaid Corps" of senior, selfless citizens to run for elective offices and help reestablish democratic freedom with integrity – ConstitutionNet
Good Generals are always loath to relinquish power to potentially weak, or corrupt politicians, but better general education and more open debate and discussion in the free marketplace of ideas, broadcast over every form of modern media, is the best way to ensure that selfless, honest, wise candidates run for Pakistan's highest offices. Criminals should be disqualified from running for high office, and better trained, better-paid police, as well as more criminal judges and fearless journalists, should expose, and by law remove, those guilty of squandering Pakistan's precious funds and resources.
None of which is easy, but fortunately Pakistan has a vast pool of brilliant, honest, wise citizens, capable of rising to this challenge, of voluntarily joining a "Quaid Corps" of senior, selfless citizens to run for elective offices and help reestablish democratic freedom with integrity.
Jinnah fearlessly fought for Pakistan to ensure "Brotherhood, equality, and fraternity" to every Pakistani, "Because there was a danger of the denial of these human rights in this Subcontinent." How tragic it would be if Democracy's fundamental freedom, were denied to the proud, long-suffering citizens of Pakistan, on this 128th anniversary of the Quaid's birth. (This article by the late Prof Stanley Wolpert appeared in January 2004 courtesy of Dawn)
