[As it is all unfolding,
the country’s powerful military command, long at odds with the government of
President Asif Ali Zardari, is in sphinx mode. The army chief, Gen. Ashfaq
Parvez Kayani, and his commanders have maintained a cool distance from the
unfolding political chaos, their silence stoking speculation about whether the
military’s days of political intervention are really, as it claims, over.]
By Declan Walsh
 |
Asif Hassan/Agence
France-Presse — Getty Images
Supporters of the
Pakistani cleric Muhammad Tahir-ul Qadri in Islamabad
on Tuesday, the day of a protest rally
demanding the government’s
immediate ouster.
|
ISLAMABAD, Pakistan — Barely a year after fears of a possible military coup plunged
Pakistani politics into chaos, the country is in crisis again — this time
besieged on multiple fronts by forces that threaten the civilian government
just a few months ahead of elections.
An enigmatic preacher is
camped before the gates of Parliament with thousands of followers, demanding
the government’s immediate ouster. The top court on Tuesday suddenly ordered
the arrest of the prime minister. Violence is surging, with militants stepping
up deadly attacks against both government forces and religious minorities. And
relations with India have dipped, after ill-tempered border skirmishes in which
soldiers on both sides were killed.
As it is all unfolding,
the country’s powerful military command, long at odds with the government of
President Asif Ali Zardari, is in sphinx mode. The army chief, Gen. Ashfaq
Parvez Kayani, and his commanders have maintained a cool distance from the
unfolding political chaos, their silence stoking speculation about whether the
military’s days of political intervention are really, as it claims, over.
“It’s the silence of the
legions that is unnerving,” said Ayaz Amir, an opposition member of Parliament.
More than anything else,
there is a sense that gears are again shifting in Pakistan, in a direction few
dare to predict — bad news for Mr. Zardari’s government, of course, but also
potentially for American interests, which see stability in Pakistan as crucial
to a smooth withdrawal in Afghanistan next year, as well as a guarantor of the
security of the country’s nuclear arsenal.
“There’s a sense that
things are snowballing — hard to predict in any way,” said Cyril Almeida, a
senior writer at Dawn newspaper.
The chief catalyst of
this jolting change comes in the form of a 61-year-old preacher, Muhammad
Tahir-ul Qadri, who catapulted himself into the political limelight less than a
month ago, and now finds himself issuing ultimatums to Mr. Zardari from inside
a bulletproof container within view of the soaring presidential residence.
A giant rally in Lahore
last month signaled the start of Mr. Qadri’s assault on Pakistan’s political
classes, which he derides as incompetent and irredeemably corrupt — a resonant
message in a country of high unemployment and crippling electricity shortages.
He drove home his message with an intensive television advertising campaign,
paid for with generous amounts of money, the origins of which he has not fully
explained.
On Monday evening, he
stepped up the attack, leading tens of thousands of followers into the heart of
Islamabad, where he renewed demands that Mr. Zardari resign immediately. The
crowd fell short of the promised “million-man march,” but was enough to spook
the government: by Tuesday morning, he had pushed forward to a square in front
of the Parliament.
“There is no Parliament;
there is a group of looters, thieves and dacoits” — bandits — he said in a
thundering voice, pointing to the building behind him. “Our lawmakers are the
lawbreakers.”
The dramatic climax of
that speech, however, came not from the preacher himself, but from the
marble-walled Supreme Court about 200 yards up the street.
As Mr. Qadri spoke, news
broke that Chief Justice Iftikhar Muhammad Chaudhry had issued an order for the
arrest of the prime minister, Raja Pervez Ashraf. The report visibly thrilled
the crowd, prompting loud cheers and a sense that the promised “revolution” was
going their way.
It was a typical
surprise maneuver from Chief Justice Chaudhry, a mercurial judge with a
stubborn streak who, over the past year, has carved out an influential space
through aggressive judicial action. A bruising court battle with Mr. Zardari
claimed the career of the previous prime minister, Yousaf Raza Gilani, who was
forced to resign in June; the chief justice has also called senior generals to
account for human rights abuses and election-rigging efforts stretching back
two decades.
The move against Mr.
Ashraf was not entirely unexpected; a corruption case against him, related to
his three-year stint as minister for water and power, has been pending for more
than a year. But its timing was striking.
Speculation that the
judge and the preacher acted in concert, perhaps with the backing of powerful
generals, has electrified the political firmament. Mr. Qadri, in his speech,
impatiently dismissed such a notion: his support came from God, the Prophet
Muhammad and the 180 million people of Pakistan, he said.
And in the nearby
garrison city of Rawalpindi, the generals, led by General Kayani, watched and
waited. Rumors that they are manipulating events from behind the scene are
unproved. But, equally, they have done nothing to help the Zardari government.
While Pakistani military
rulers once purged their disdain for civilian rule through bloodless coups, the
latest breed of generals has chafed under new constraints — the military’s
damaged popularity after the humiliating American commando raid in May 2011
that killed Osama bin Laden, sharp scrutiny from an emboldened media, and
judicial challenges from Chief Justice Chaudhry’s court.
General Kayani, in
particular, has stressed that the military’s role in politics is over. But
senior generals continue to wield heavy influence behind the scenes — foreign
policy is effectively the army’s domain — and contempt for Mr. Zardari’s
governance is palpable in military circles.
But the opposition
challenger Nawaz Sharif, who was himself deposed as prime minister by Gen.
Pervez Musharraf in 1999, is not much more appealing to the generals. And so
there is continuing uncertainty about the military’s commitment to allowing
elections to take place within the next four months, as scheduled.
The drawing rooms of the
political elite have been humming with speculation of a “soft coup” — the
imposition of a technocratic government, backed by the generals — for several
years. But for now, the army seems content simply to watch as Mr. Qadri takes
his “people’s revolution” to the streets of Islamabad, where he has promised an
uprising along the lines of the Egyptian revolt in Tahrir Square.
“The government is
twisting in the wind, and they are just watching it happen,” said Mr. Amir, the
opposition politician.
The difference with
Egypt, of course, is that Pakistan has no dictator to overthrow. And while Mr.
Zardari’s government has faced criticism as having governed poorly in many
respects, it has made considerable strides in anchoring the country’s
democratic structures.
Through a series of
constitutional amendments, all of them approved by the opposition, Mr. Zardari
has gradually devolved power to the provinces, reduced his presidential powers
and made the electoral process more transparent. Now, advisers say, he is
intent on completing the government’s term in March — the first time in
Pakistan’s history that a civilian government would have seen out its five-year
term.
But first that
government must make it through the coming days.
The law minister, Farooq
Naek, said Tuesday that he would challenge the arrest order against Mr. Ashraf
in court on Thursday. But the most potent test could come from Mr. Qadri, whose
supporters were bedding down in neat rows of tents in Islamabad on Tuesday
night, waiting for the next speech from their leader on Wednesday morning.
Having shut down the
center of Islamabad, and dominated the news cycle, Mr. Qadri is unlikely to
surrender the limelight easily. His well-organized supporters insist they will
not budge until their demands are met, and are encouraging other Pakistanis to
join them.
If that happens, the
government may have little option but to break up the protest by force. And it
would be at that point that the army, sitting quietly on the fence, would be
most likely to step in.
Salman Masood contributed reporting from
Islamabad.
