That fractured relationship
Why does it happen that the military, civil must forever be at daggers drawn?
The western media never misses a chance, these days, to have a go at the relationship, as they see it (which is much as we see it), between the mighty army which, de facto rules Pakistan and the venal weak politicians who de jure, are in the driving seat. Reports and articles, during the past few months, have even gone to the extent of using the word ‘loathe’ to describe the feelings of the army chief towards the president of the republic.
But the prime minister still manages to ruffle khaki feathers and was warned in no uncertain terms, when he criticised General Ashfaq Kayani earlier this month and then fired a retired lieutenant-general, that “potentially grievous consequences” could be the result, though no outright clue was given as to the exact nature of the ‘consequences’.
On January 14, the New York Times, in a report on the military-civil relations, told its readers how when the army chief had attended a meeting with the prime minister as part of the Defence Coordination Committee some days earlier: “In an apparent attempt to defuse tensions, Mr Gilani paid tribute to the military in comments at the outset of the meeting, emphasising his support for the country’s ‘brave armed forces and security personnel’.
“Still, his positive demeanour failed to mask evident problems. During Mr Gilani’s opening remarks — which, uncommon for a committee meeting, were broadcast on national television — General Kayani stared at the table”.
Since then, the western press has been deflected from the acrimony and the ‘loathing’ that blights the military-civil love affair by developments in the other great institution; the judiciary, and its particular peculiar relationship with this civilian government. There is no mystery attached to the disharmony between the two great pillars of state, the judiciary and the government, as the latter has made no bones about its attitude towards the present Supreme Court.
Why does it happen, that the military and civil, must forever be at daggers drawn, with the bureaucracy and the judiciary opting to side with whichever it finds the most powerful? Why, for the past 64-plus years has the army held the civilians in contempt? From where derives the superiority complex? Why the perpetual inability to abide by what should be what, when it comes to hierarchy in officialdom?
From the outset, of the birth of the country (to a certain extent even in Jinnah’s days) the army has not found in government, politicians it can respect to the extent of obeying. This would indicate that Pakistan only produces substandard politicians incapable of holding their own. Or, is it that the state has always only existed to provide subsistence to the military establishment?
And the bureaucracy — stands completely defanged, a process undertaken by both military and civil governments and its inability to stand up to either the military or the politicians is legendary. It is but, a willing tool used by both when either has been in power. The bureaucracy should have had the gumption, in times of the absence of democratic institutions, to ‘civilianise’ the military regimes. It has done the opposite. It has crept and crawled before its military masters — equal to it in rank — and has done the same when the civilians have come in. It has never been a civil service — rather, a government service.
Military regimes, after a while in power, have always latched on to and picked out particularly pliant politicians (usually the dregs, the exception being Zia’s Junejo), to whom not having a ‘kursi’ is anathema. They set up governments in an attempt to prove their democratic credentials and have always failed. This has happened from Ayub Khan down to the latest of our military adventurers — but we must ask ourselves how, in any way other than having come in through the democratic process — this democratic government has shone?
Published in The Express Tribune, January 21st, 2012.
But the prime minister still manages to ruffle khaki feathers and was warned in no uncertain terms, when he criticised General Ashfaq Kayani earlier this month and then fired a retired lieutenant-general, that “potentially grievous consequences” could be the result, though no outright clue was given as to the exact nature of the ‘consequences’.
On January 14, the New York Times, in a report on the military-civil relations, told its readers how when the army chief had attended a meeting with the prime minister as part of the Defence Coordination Committee some days earlier: “In an apparent attempt to defuse tensions, Mr Gilani paid tribute to the military in comments at the outset of the meeting, emphasising his support for the country’s ‘brave armed forces and security personnel’.
“Still, his positive demeanour failed to mask evident problems. During Mr Gilani’s opening remarks — which, uncommon for a committee meeting, were broadcast on national television — General Kayani stared at the table”.
Since then, the western press has been deflected from the acrimony and the ‘loathing’ that blights the military-civil love affair by developments in the other great institution; the judiciary, and its particular peculiar relationship with this civilian government. There is no mystery attached to the disharmony between the two great pillars of state, the judiciary and the government, as the latter has made no bones about its attitude towards the present Supreme Court.
Why does it happen, that the military and civil, must forever be at daggers drawn, with the bureaucracy and the judiciary opting to side with whichever it finds the most powerful? Why, for the past 64-plus years has the army held the civilians in contempt? From where derives the superiority complex? Why the perpetual inability to abide by what should be what, when it comes to hierarchy in officialdom?
From the outset, of the birth of the country (to a certain extent even in Jinnah’s days) the army has not found in government, politicians it can respect to the extent of obeying. This would indicate that Pakistan only produces substandard politicians incapable of holding their own. Or, is it that the state has always only existed to provide subsistence to the military establishment?
And the bureaucracy — stands completely defanged, a process undertaken by both military and civil governments and its inability to stand up to either the military or the politicians is legendary. It is but, a willing tool used by both when either has been in power. The bureaucracy should have had the gumption, in times of the absence of democratic institutions, to ‘civilianise’ the military regimes. It has done the opposite. It has crept and crawled before its military masters — equal to it in rank — and has done the same when the civilians have come in. It has never been a civil service — rather, a government service.
Military regimes, after a while in power, have always latched on to and picked out particularly pliant politicians (usually the dregs, the exception being Zia’s Junejo), to whom not having a ‘kursi’ is anathema. They set up governments in an attempt to prove their democratic credentials and have always failed. This has happened from Ayub Khan down to the latest of our military adventurers — but we must ask ourselves how, in any way other than having come in through the democratic process — this democratic government has shone?
Published in The Express Tribune, January 21st, 2012.