THE election of Asif Ali Zardari, co-chairman of the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP), as the new president of Pakistan is perhaps one of the most astonishing reversal of political fortunes in recent Asian history. But will his luck hold?
The omens suggest otherwise. A number of those who have held this great office have dishonored it. For a start, four generals seized power in military coups; one was assassinated; one, who also became prime minister, was hanged; four were forced out; one resigned after losing an election; and only two, including Asif Zardari, were democratically elected.
Pakistani politics is fickle and is steeped in a modern form of feudalism. Just look at the way Zardari and his son “inherited” the PPP after the assassination last December of Benazir Bhutto. The PPP was effectively bequeathed to them in a letter in which Benazir left instructions regarding her succession in the event of her untimely death. It is no secret that the Bhuttos control the province of Sindh with an iron first, a legacy which the clan leader, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, the hanged former president and prime minister of Pakistan, passed on to his wife and children. The PPP’s main rival, the Pakistan Muslim League (PML), is not dissimilar. It is controlled by Nawaz Sharif whose stronghold is Punjab, the most powerful province in the country.
The reality is that both Zardari and Sharif carry a lot of political baggage. Both the PPP, a secular and self-styled social democratic party, and PML, a party with Islamist leanings, operate as quasi-sectarian parties — an eminently improper foundation for any aspiring liberal democracy.
For sectarian politics to work, one needs power sharing. In Pakistan, power sharing between the PPP and PML is purely a matter of political expediency, as in the current government following general elections earlier this year. The aim was to force Musharraf to resign which has paved the way for Zardari’s election to the highest office of the republic. The two parties were already going back on their promises as soon as they came together.
Zardari remains reluctant to reinstate the judges sacked by Musharraf — a core demand of Nawaz Sharif. Musharraf gave Zardari immunity from prosecution on previous corruption and money laundering charges. As a result, in August, the Swiss government, which has had an outstanding warrant for the arrest of Benazir Bhutto and her husband on alleged money laundering charges for the last decade or so, dropped the charges at the request of the Pakistani government and unfroze $60 million of the Butto/Zardari funds.
Zardari, as president, retains the power to dismiss Parliament, a power which both his wife and himself vowed to change when they got into power. His change of heart is both a symptom of his political naivety and an act of self-preservation — he simply does not savor any challenge to his presidency. Nevertheless, the presidential election in Pakistan was seemingly democratic. With its majority in key state assemblies as well as in the national Parliament, Zardari’s elevation to the presidency was a foregone conclusion.
But democracy in Pakistan, be warned, is a double-edged sword. The hand that feeds it can easily be chopped off. Zardari can be forced out as quickly as he was elected. There are several precedents. Former President Ghulam Ishaq Khan resigned after intense pressure from the military in 1993; Wasim Sajjad, who replaced him as a caretaker, subsequently lost the elections in 1993; Farooq Leghari was similarly forced out after just over three years in power. Perhaps more importantly, the election of Zardari is a sad indictment of democracy in Pakistan, especially its inability to move beyond the discredited PPP and PML structures.
Politics in Pakistan is not based on classical grass-roots movements, but more on a top-down feudal pseudo-democratic structure. The hope for the next generation must be the emergence of new structures based on political and socio-economic ideologies than on the old rivalries.
The immediate worry for Pakistanis per se is that their president will turn out to be an international joke and, therefore, an embarrassment. Already the sobriquet of President Ten Percent has surfaced, alluding to Zardari’s public image that he amassed a fortune from kickbacks, usually 10 percent, from government contracts during the two premierships of his wife, Benazir.
This could affect the effectiveness of his office especially at such a crucial time for Pakistan, which is faced with a multitude of problems ranging from domestic economic woes; the constant threat of Islamist terrorism in the country; his dealings with neighboring India and with the US, which has already accused the new government of being soft on the Taleban and Al-Qaeda; and with the International Monetary Fund especially in extracting financial help to prop up the economy which is beset by capital outflows increasing government debt.
Above all, if Zardari hopes to remain in office, he has to play the powerful military, which despises him. The new chief of staff, Gen. Ashfaq Kayani, is a much more accomplished operator than his weak predecessor. Given any excuse to restore stability in the country, the army will not flinch from ousting the new president.
