Democracy, Musharraf style

THURSDAY, March 15: What strikes one at the Attari-Wagah border, is how carefully choreographed is the hostility between India and Pakistan. At Attari, India proclaims itself the world8217;s largest democracy. At Wagah, Pakistan claims to be the door to freedom. The ritualistic enactment of the 8216;retreat ceremony8217;, every day at 5 pm, draws crowds. Otherwise life goes on in a familiar pattern on both sides of the border and the fields bearing a ripening wheat harvest testify to this similitude.

As we head for downtown Lahore later that evening, the bright, neon lights along the nehar 8212; the canal that threads its way through the city 8212; provide a festive touch. But already there are rumours of a crackdown. Late at night, several lawyers have been detained pre-emptively. They, along with opposition parties, are planning a black day tomorrow to protest the treatment meted out to Chief Justice Iftikar Muhammad Chaudhry.

FRIDAY, March 16: Along the Mall Road, one can spot the ranks of the riot police in their black shirts and khaki trousers. They wear the word 8216;Police8217; prominently on their backs, as if there8217;s doubt about their identity.

At the conference Asma Jehangir, the vice-chair of SAHR, expresses her irritation with the visa regime which blocks free movement between South Asian countries. 8220;We expect the governments in the region to set up a transparent system of governance,8221; she says. C.K. Lal, a senior Nepali journalist, points to the democracy deficit in every South Asian country. Aruna Roy from India, who almost did not get her visa, underlines nevertheless that democracy, with all its imperfections, is the only option for non-violent governance.

I make my way to Mall Road. Barbed wire has suddenly bloomed on traffic roundabouts and serried ranks of police form outside the handsome colonial edifice that houses the Lahore High Court. The police look formidable. Come closer and you8217;ll see young, raw-boned men, some sporting beards, clutching their riot-protection shields. Like police everywhere in the subcontinent, they function like unthinking putative machines driven by 8220;higher ups8221;. The sound of the police sirens reminds pedestrians 8212; ordinary people eating kinoos near a fruit cart or buying a plate of biryani peddled from the boot of a Suzuki van 8212; that their lives in a sense are not their own. As someone put it, there may be a shortage of onions sometimes, but there is never a shortage of rubber bullets. Sardar Latif Khosa, a prominent Lahore lawyer, among others, is badly beaten up for attempting to march to the Punjab Assembly.

Back at the conference hall, everybody knows violence has broken out. I speak to veteran journalist I.A. Rehman. He minces no words: 8220;This is a no-win situation. In 1999, some thought Musharraf could do some good. But bad instruments never produce good results.8221;

What8217;s interesting though is that most Pakistanis are not reluctant to speak out, even after I introduce myself as an Indian journalist. Retired air marshal Zafar Chaudhry tell me that 8220;Pakistan8217;s misfortune is that many of us have great faith in political parties, but they simply aren8217;t there8221;. Cecil Choudhry, a senior airforce officer, much feted here for having shot down an Indian aircraft during the 1965 war, believes that 8220;the treatment accorded to the chief justice has shaken the very foundation of this country8221;.

This willingness to go on record seems to point to a culture of relative openness. 8220;This is a tribute to the Musharraf years,8221; observes a Musharraf sympathiser, 8220;he is a liberal.8221; Difficult to believe this though when news came in later in the afternoon that the offices of The News and Geo TV in Karachi were vandalised by the police. Ghazi Salahuddin, editorial director of the Independent Media Corporation Ltd, which runs Geo TV, believes 8220;this is a self-inflicted wound, and it could eventually prove fatal8221;.

SATURDAY, March 17: That the police could have, on their own, stormed a powerful media house without instructions from the very top strains credulity. But that8217;s exactly what Musharraf and Prime Minister Shaukat Aziz claim. Musharraf, who had worn his uniform when he sacked the CJ, now appears on TV in a pathan suit, addressing a public meeting near Chak-20, Pakpattan. 8220;I was only discharging my constitutional duties by submitting the reference against the chief justice to the Supreme Judicial Council SJC,8221; he protests, 8220;We will abide by its decision.8221; He condemns the attack on the media house but adds that his government has taken prompt action.

Some 14 policemen involved in the incident have been suspended. Yet all but one of them are lowly constables. An autorickshaw driver, nods his head in response, 8220;Yes. They first do mischief and then deny everything.8221; The government has also changed its position on the chief justice. He has not been dismissed, it now maintains, he has been sent on 8220;forced leave8221;. The chief justice has proved to be a harder nut to crack than earlier envisaged.

SUNDAY, March 18: Perhaps it8217;s because it is Sunday, but the tension of the last few days seems to have dissipated somewhat, with an ubiquitous sense of cynicism replacing it. A passerby in a local bazaar, observes with resignation, 8220;Jiska lathi, uski bhains8221; the buffalo belongs to he who wields the stick . A resolution read out at the conclusion of the SAHR consultation speaks for an entire region, but seems to have a special resonance in Lahore: 8220;A vibrant democracy is one that respects differences, tolerates dissent, is responsive to the public voice8230;8221;

The question is, has wily Musharraf won this round? No, says Shahansha Shumai Paracha, an advocate with the Lahore High Court, this is just the beginning and Pakistan8217;s lawyers are planning a national agitation for Wednesday.

Will it snowball into a process that will finally unseat Musharraf and usher in another tryst with democracy? The skies have suddenly become overcast 8212; unusual for March. Like the weather, politics in Pakistan remains unpredictable.