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the end, the United States appears not to have resisted too
firmly the idea of Pervez Musharraf’s abdication. The
senior envoys hastily despatched to Islamabad, even before an
elected government was properly in place, for meetings with
a range of political leaders, suggested that Washington was
keen to retain the ex-general’s services. A flurry of
activity on the part of locally based diplomats, particularly
Ambassador Anne Patterson, reinforced that impression. It was
widely whispered that the new leadership in Pakistan had conceded
to the American demand that Musharraf be allowed to occupy the
presidency at least until George W. Bush remained in the White
House.
That
conclusion seems to have been mistaken. What’s likelier,
though, is that the US was persuaded to change its mind. Hussain
Haqqani presumably did his bit, and it has been reported that
during his maiden voyage to Washington in his capacity as prime
minister, Yousaf Raza Gillani’s entourage included a number
of ‘Musharraf experts’ whose task was to convince
Bush that his friend’s departure from the political scene
would not substantially affect US-Pakistan relations or the
‘war against terror.’
Left
with little choice, the US eventually decided that Musharraf
must be abandoned. But not completely: the Americans requested
two of their closest allies, Britain and Saudi Arabia, to broker
a deal whereby the ex-dictator would face no charges or any
other repercussions. London and Riyadh dutifully sent across
Sir Mark Lyall Grant and Prince Muqrin bin Abdul Aziz, respectively,
and the desired outcome was evidently achieved. This was followed,
not long afterwards, by a phone call from Bush to Musharraf.
Their conversation may have been restricted to general pleasantries
and a spot of mutual backslapping, but it would nonetheless
be entertaining, and possibly enlightening, to lay one’s
hands on a transcript.
The
loyalty is touching. It’s also more than a little ironic,
given that bringing democracy to Iraq was among the reasons
cited for invading that unfortunate country, while dictatorial
rule in Pakistan appears to have posed no conceptual problem.
But then, it has always been thus. Pakistan’s first and
third military dictators assumed power with the acquiescence,
and quite possibly encouragement, of the US. Field Marshal Ayub
Khan was hailed as an Asian de Gaulle, while General Zia-ul-Haq,
following a brief period of ostracism after he arranged the
judicial murder of the country’s first elected prime minister,
was embraced as a precious warrior in the no-holds-barred jihad
against godless communism.
Musharraf’s
ratings followed a similar trajectory: he was initially viewed
with suspicion and a hint of distaste for overthrowing an elected
civilian government, but all such qualms were swept aside in
the wake of 9/11. The former president says in his autobiography
that, notwithstanding Richard Armitage’s threat to bomb
Pakistan back to the Stone Age (Armitage denies using these
words), he actually toyed with the idea of putting up a fight.
That’s implausible: you don’t have to be a military
strategist to recognise that such a course of action would have
been suicidal. Not surprisingly, in explaining to his compatriots
precisely what rights and privileges had been extended to the
Americans, Musharraf was less than forthcoming.
Thus
it was that he acquired the status of a valued ally in the ‘war
against terror.’ In the US, his popularity extended beyond
the neoconservative elite: he was painted, not exactly inaccurately,
as the antithesis of the self-detonating Islamic fundamentalist.
However, the US foreign policy establishment wasn’t unanimous
in this matter: some of its members have consistently viewed
Musharraf with a lack of enthusiasm, suspecting that he was
playing a double game – although the general himself would
have described it as a balancing act. On occasion, representatives
of the administration, such as Dick Cheney, would be sent across
to berate him for not doing enough.
Afghan
President Hamid Karzai’s antipathy towards Musharraf also
posed a problem for the Bush administration, which sought to
dissipate tensions by arranging a flag meeting in the White
House. It didn’t help. And as the numbers of Taliban on
Pakistan’s northwestern frontier appeared to multiply,
it lent credence to his critics. It appeared obvious that if
Musharraf and his government were indeed making an effort to
reverse this trend, then there was something seriously wrong
with their strategy.
The
ex-president’s image problems got a lot worse last year:
the Jamia Hafsa and Lal Masjid affairs suggested that the government
was finding it difficult to maintain its writ even in the federal
capital. The sacking of the Supreme Court chief justice, followed
by the lawyers’ agitation, the imposition of emergency
and the assassination of Benazir Bhutto all contributed to the
image of a government in disarray, and last February’s
elections demonstrated Musharraf’s lack of popularity.
Despite all this, the US was keen to continue employing him
as its point man in Islamabad.
This soft spot for despots derives from the notion that they
are better able to deliver what they promise than prime ministers
beholden to party and parliamentary interests. Chances are it
was this very idea that endeared Musharraf, to a degree, to
the Indian leadership. There was a kind of hush in New Delhi
when Musharraf announced his resignation, presumably based on
the new uncertainties ahead.
His relations with Pakistan’s giant neighbour got off
to something of a rocky start, given that when Musharraf assumed
power, he was viewed as the architect of Kargil in 1999. (It
was even said that the coup was the consequence of Nawaz Sharif’s
insistence, under pressure from the Clinton administration,
that Pakistani troops should pull out of the areas they had
occupied.) Things got a great deal worse in late 2002, after
a bunch of jihadis attacked the Indian parliament. For some
months an outbreak of war between two nuclear-armed powers seemed
imminent, and international commentators began routinely referring
to the subcontinent as the most dangerous place in the world.
The
fact that a catastrophe was averted may well have had something
to do with the presence of American troops on Pakistani soil.
What seemed even more miraculous in the aftermath of this near-showdown
was a progressive improvement in relations, with New Delhi accepting
Musharraf as someone it could do business with, and the Pakistan
president exhibiting an ostensibly sincere desire to turn a
new leaf. Diplomacy did not come easily to him, however, and
a public relations initiative in Agra effectively scuttled a
crucial summit. But the sourness did not persist for long. Small
but significant confidence-building measures facilitated a thaw
of sorts.
Progress
was slow, and there was never any sign of a mutually acceptable
compromise on the core problem of Kashmir. The valley had turned
relatively quiet after Musharraf took steps to halt, or at least
hinder, jihadist infiltration. Chances are that the current
peaceful upsurge in popular resistance is unrelated to Musharraf’s
exit. More broadly, however, it is understandable why India
should be concerned about what lies ahead.
The
sort of impression – ambiguous but leaning to the positive
side – that Musharraf made in India and the US was not,
generally, replicated elsewhere. He was fond of Turkey, having
spent part of his childhood there, and was no doubt aware of
the need to kowtow to Saudi Arabia and certain other Muslim
countries. None of them embraced him too tightly, though. Nor
did his American appeal translate too well to Europe, where
the only leader willing to humour him beyond the call of duty
was former British prime minister Tony Blair – although
quite possibly only out of a higher sense of duty, given that
Blair felt obliged, wherever possible, to follow in Bush’s
footsteps.
Will
Musharraf be missed? Quite possibly – but nostalgia on
the part of the US or Indian leadership doesn’t matter
all that much. There would be much greater cause for concern
were the people of Pakistan to begin clamouring for his return.
Whether that prospect can be avoided depends entirely on his
successors.
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