“We tried (the parliamentary system), and it failed. Not that there is anything inherently wrong with it. The trouble is that we have not yet attained several sophistications that are necessary for its successful operation.
“Above all, you need a really cool and phlegmatic temperament, which only people living in cold climates seem to have. Also it requires a long period of probation. The British took 600 years, and even France, which gave birth to liberal philosophy, has not been able to work it. So don’t let us kid ourselves and cling to cliches and assume that we are ready to work such a refined system.”
This, dear reader, is a quote from Ayub Khan’s speech as he introduced his 1962 constitution which he called “simpler to work” and “less liable to lead to instability — a luxury that a developing country like ours cannot afford”. Man, could he be more wrong? The system he invented would lead to a national crisis so huge that only half of the country would emerge from it.
The quote above is reproduced here because if things go smoothly not one but four South Asian nations will elect new governments in the next 365 days. Bangladesh will do so in January 2024. India is likely to go to polls in April or May of the same year. Pakistan is said to hold elections in mid-February. The reason why it is mentioned after the other two nations is that doubts linger in public perception about an exact date. Sri Lanka will hold an election sometime before September 2024. Then there is a fifth nation, which is unlikely to hold elections in the foreseeable future because, even after the US spent trillions of dollars in its nation-building, it has fallen off the democratic map and is now so deep underwater that no reset button exists to bring Afghanistan back to the democratic fold.
The last time I read this speech I scoffed at it because we had a working rebuttal of the general’s redoubtable thesis. India was a functioning model of how a South Asian nation, despite its hot climes and less phlegmatic humours, could function as a democracy. But since 2014 the democratic backslide in India has become all but apparent. A friend accosted me for appearing to give up hope in the democratisation of South Asia after India’s recent experience. “What do you care what India does,” he asked, “as long as Pakistan moves in the democratic direction?” I replied, “Because in India I lost my winning argument, my north star.” His “fair enough” could not assuage my wounded faith in democracy and only worked to confirm my newfound pessimism. But you will notice that I have found new ways to disagree with the late general’s diagnosis. Afghanistan and countries beyond have cooler temperatures and long histories but no democracy despite history’s dire lessons. Also, his grandson now signs the expulsion letters for the pro-establishment figures from PTI. Remember, Bilawal had said something about democracy and revenge? Whether the PTI is democratic is something for you to decide, but I can tell history’s revenge when I see one.
In all honesty, it becomes hard to judge India too harshly when you look at the long list of weak coalition governments that preceded Modi’s first term. I agree with Dr Ayesha Jalal’s thesis that the political history of South Asia is mainly a story of the struggle between the attempts to centralise power and the fight to preserve regional identities/provincial autonomy. When a country’s entire identity is based around a centralised colonial structure, weak coalitions at the centre and majoritarian grievances are bound to trigger the population.
In Pakistan, both the past 15 months and 15 years have been symptomatic of what is wrong. Every cause that we seemed to have championed has come back to haunt us. The lawyers’ movement produced Iftikhar Chaudhry, an abrasive lawyers’ pressure group and ran a precursor to the existing judicial mess. The struggle for the media’s restoration turned out to be a fight for the dominance of one group over others. For 11 years the PTI allowed itself to be used against the ARD forces. Then the ARD’s expanded successor, the PDM Plus, allowed itself to be used against the PTI. Now they all feel equally disenfranchised.
I will tell you what triggered this soul-searching exercise. The day the caretaker premier was named I was at a lunch with a few friends, democratic-minded nobodies like me. When the name was announced they all zeroed in on me. Most of them were wary of a BAP member rising to the top. Some considered it a definite proof that the establishment that I had vouched for in recent days, had a relapse due to its muscle memory, and had fallen into its old ways. I tell you, dear reader, it took quite a lot to fight back, to remind them that the new PM was different from the rest of the BAP’s now polarised lot, had sacrificed his political career for the national cause and was in power for a finite period at any rate. Also, my sources had told me that his name had come from the PML-N’s heir apparent. But they would have none of this. Then, as my petulance grew I accused them of being heartbroken for not finding space in the caretaker set-up. Clever idea, really. Most of them haven’t spoken to me ever since. To operate in public space and be sympathetic to the state’s cause is a losing proposition. You lose friends at the speed of light. I will, however, not pretend it doesn’t get to me as I advance in age.
But clearly, the unfulfilled ambitions of the professional class are a factor. You can assess that by the way the caretaker government is being treated. In fact, in Islamabad’s drawing rooms, rumours are rife that some grand conspiracy will replace the incumbents with a more defined technocratic set-up. They are betting on it. Literally! Sour grapes I say and move on.
But why this backslide in South Asia if the general’s prognosis is incorrect?
Usually, I go back to Acemoglu and Robinson’s The Narrow Corridor for an explanation. But ours is a convoluted case. A couple of lines produced as questions in Jared Diamond’s “Guns, Germs, and Steel” rhyme with the general’s thesis but then take you in the opposite direction.
I find more satisfying answers in the disunity, societal fracture and mutual intolerance showcased in William Dalrymple’s The Anarchy. From Emile Durkheim and Francis Fukuyama’s critique of “familism” to Dr Ambedkar’s flagging of “casteism” just look at how many diseases South Asia has. Also, the political parties here are either neither democratic nor democratic-minded. All other institutions as a result are grist to the authoritarian mill.
There is a chance that the region may eventually find its way back to democracy. But I am getting tired of and old for false hopes.
Published in The Express Tribune, September 2nd, 2023.
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