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The
arc of judicial crisis, which came about when President General
Pervez Musharraf sought to bustle out Supreme Court Chief Justice
Iftikhar Muhammad Chaudhry on March 9, now stands across the entire
length and breadth of the country. Abroad, its looming shadows have
blackened Pakistan's image; at home it silhouettes the slow unraveling
of the entire system that the present regime had pieced together
with much legal sophistry.
While
the hearings of the presidential reference against the chief justice
are continuing and the larger Supreme Court bench is already in
place to take up the chief justice's petition challenging the proceedings
on no less than 132 counts, public debate has already overtaken
the slow-moving legal wheels. The chief justice is wallowing in
the glow of an unprecedented public prestige and support, whose
main base is the legal community and whose most unmistaken manifestation
are the lawyers.
Blistering
heat and the boring rituals of Supreme Judicial Council (SJC) hearings
have not dissuaded his supporters from gathering in the thousands
in front of the Supreme Court to greet and receive the chief justice,
whose tale of resistance against the attempt by top military brass
to extort a resignation has become a folk tale that feeds its own
legend.
But
even with his peaking popularity, Chief Justice Chaudhry does not
pose a personal threat to the system. He is not General Musharraf's
replacement; nor is he an alternative to the crop of leaders - all
variety - who hold serious sway over national politics. At best
he is a chief justice who spoke a two-letter word that Pakistan's
judges often forget in the company of generals: no. At worst, he
is a chief justice who, till March 8, was seen as part of the country's
constitutional mess and drew the ire and ridicule of his present-day
die-hard supporters.
The
threat to Musharraf's system comes not from himself but the process
that he has touched off. He has cut open the stable of a million
bolting horses, creating a stampede of troubles for the generals,
the ruling party and even his brother judges.
Take
the generals first. Good at managing tough challenges behind closed
doors, they are confronted with an impossible public situation.
"The lawyers are provoked and are looking for martyrs and we
in the establishment do not want to give them that," says a
close aide of the president who is involved in the making of operational
policies dealing with the lawyers' protest. This restrained approach
is also born out of a stark realisation that the lawyers are very
organised and can create a cataclysmic situation in the country
in case force is used to counter their mounting pressure.
But a free hand to the lawyers mocks the power of the ruling military
elite. Each protest rally sees loads of scorn heaped upon the armed
forces. In one incident in Rawalpindi, army vehicles were stopped
by the protestors, and a clash was averted upon timely intervention
of senior lawyers. The brazen display of posters and placards at
these protest rallies inscribed with insulting messages continues
to be a constant source of public embarrassment. Yet the application
of force is not an option. This dilemma, at least in public image,
makes the top brass look like an embattled lot with decreasing power
to upstage its political opponents.
Compounding
the problem is the fact that General Pervez Musharraf is in a crucial
year of transition. The stock of his international goodwill on the
war against terrorism is running on reserves. Most of his international
backers are questioning his performance to manage extremism in Pakistan,
especially with the baton-brigades roaming the streets of Islamabad,
threatening everyone with imposition of Shariah. The situation elsewhere
does not inspire much confidence in the international circles that
General Musharraf has invested his power and donors' resources well
in countering the religious rightwing. The NWFP is virtually in
the grip of a motley crew of suicidal jihadis, Taliban zealots,
local mafias and foreign criminals. Together all of them are using
the name of religion to expand their power base, eroding the writ
of the state and killing their opponents at will. Waziristan, Tank,
Dera Ismail Khan, Swat and Kohat are swamped with this new wave
of jihadis. Their suicide squads are on the march, aiming for targets
all across Pakistan. In the past two years, they have hit practically
every conceivable symbol of state authority in every corner of the
country. Courts, police stations, army posts and training camps,
intelligence operatives, business centers, airports - nothing has
been spared.
As
it is, this challenge is hard enough to handle - it will become
impossible if the lawyers' protest continues apace. If the jihadis
have shown the limits of General Musharraf's raw power, the lawyers
have decimated the legality of his rule.
That
makes for a very troubled state. A system whose constitutionality
and writ gets questioned every day on the streets has a serious
existential problem.
Some of this bad news is filtering up. Even according to intelligence
reports, generally conservative in their estimates of anti-government
trends, "An overwhelming majority of informed people believe
that the chief justice is innocent." Unfortunately, these assessments,
which are shared with the president by his close aides, draw the
wrong conclusion from their findings: almost all intelligence agency
and government information department heads recommend "tighter
media policy to bring down this sentiment."
Worse still, General Musharraf agrees with the self-serving argument
that by removing the chief justice from the headlines, the issue
can be resolved. In a background briefing with a few media persons,
he candidly admitted that the present situation was a "crisis"
to which he said he "did not have an answer" except that
"if the media could sideline the issue" and "lower
the hype" then the SJC could "sort it out on their own."
Taking
this as a cue to slam down hard on the media, his advisors issued
immediate gag orders and slapped Aaj television with a show-cause
notice for the cancellation of its broadcast license, besides spewing
out warnings to different media outlets, including mainstream newspapers,
writers, columnists and even some FM radio stations.
But
so far, that too has backfired.
The
furore of protest that followed, including a string of condemnatory
statements from reputable national and international human rights
bodies and a strong reaction from the public, only added to the
pool of government embarrassment.
Unfortunately,
there are not many in the ruling party who are willing to share
this embarrassment. Pakistan Muslim League insiders say that the
chief justice has become a rallying point for bottled up public
frustrations and has galvanized the opposition's ranks. Some PML
members of parliament fear losing elections in their home towns,
especially urban areas, on account of this crisis and are exceedingly
critical of a "handful of people" who "wrongly advised
or mislead the president into filing the reference." In this
ultimate test of real fealty to General Musharraf, the ruling party
and its leaders have chosen to go undercover rather than brave it
with the president.
The
judiciary, too, is facing its moment of truth. Forced by the ever-growing
protests of the Bars from all across Pakistan against the presidential
reference, and realising that it is a now-or-never situation for
the judiciary, some judges have already chosen sides. In Sukkur,
Hyderabad, and Peshawar, where Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry made
carefully planned visits, high court judges turned up in near full
strength. In Peshawar, the chief justice of the high court sat in
a ceremony lasting three hours listening to speeches that blasted
General Pervez Musharraf and the army in a language most hateful
of the establishment. In the Punjab, the superior judiciary might
not follow the example of Sindh and the NWFP because the chief justice
of the Lahore High Court has already been squarely accused of "harbouring
inveterate hatred" by the chief justice. Yet insiders say that
there are many judges who, given a more "conducive environment,"
would declare their allegiance.
This
sums up the situation. Like the Punjab judges, there are too many
just waiting for the right moment to join the club of protestors.
Many more still want to keep the status quo to protect their political
and financial interests.
Backed
by such two-hearted loyalists, the system lives on - dangerously.
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