By Yasser Latif Hamdani
May 9, 2011 · 4:10 pmHow many provinces should Pakistan have and are the current provinces and provincial identities sacrosanct? There is no good reason to assume so.
Identity is always imagined and subjective. Administrative redistribution should not affect ethnic identity because there are Punjabis, Pushtoons, Sindhis, Baloch, Urdu speaking and other ethnicities living everywhere in Pakistan. However for the marginalised peoples of this multi-ethnic multi-cultural state of ours, administrative redistribution of provinces might actually be the best check against a tyrannical majority.
Post 18th Amendment, the time is opportune to divide Pakistan’s four provinces into as many as 20 with equal geographical area. Hypothetically speaking if Pakistan was to be divided into 20 provinces as aforesaid and each of these 20 provinces would have 5 senators in the upper house, the current Balochistan province would end up having twice as many senators as Punjab despite having one tenth of Punjab’s population. The senate can then be effective federal equipoise in the joint session of the parliament. The five senators- being indirectly elected from each provinces- can be made further representative of marginalised groups by including in them a mandatory religious minority and a woman. That way we can ensure representation and participation of not just all ethnic groups but of marginalised groups. After all we insist on being a confessional democracy, at the very least it ought to be a fair confessional democracy where gender and religion based identities can find justice and fair play.
There are other more tangible advantages. For example if the complaint of the Baloch people is lack of development and empowerment, the creation of up to eight or nine new provincial capitals instead of one will ensure genuine development at the grass roots level. In other existing provinces it will create new rival centers of power to Lahore, Karachi and Peshawar, all three of which will be better served by being converted into provinces. For the people of the far flung areas of Punjab, Sindh and Pakhtunkhwa – just like Balochistan – will experience real government at their door step.
This kind of provincial redistribution to empower backward areas or to gain political numbers for marginalised populations is not unprecedented. India has done it successfully. However for us there is another very important aspect that needs to be highlighted. Taking 4 provincial capitals for a Khaki usurper is very easy, especially when the army has garrisons in all four. Conquering 20 capitals will not be an easy task in the least, even for our mighty “mard-e-momins”. As a result continuation of democratic constitutional rule will be possible.
Similarly 20 provincial legislatures in the post 18th Amendment scenario would mean that the National Assembly would be more concerned with the job of law making instead of power politics of region and tribe. Many of the provisions of our lengthy and unwieldy constitution would make much more logical sense. The example of Article 158 comes readily to mind. Article 158 creates a priority for a province on a gas well head which is located in it. At the moment given the acute crisis in the country, centrifugal trends are exploiting this to deny a large mass of Pakistani population that lives in Punjab their share of the national gas resources. However in a scenario with smaller provinces, this constitutional provision would have real meaning and effectiveness.
In 1956 Pakistan made the crucial mistake of merging existing provinces into a single unit. What should have been done was that the then province of East Pakistan should have been divided along administrative lines. Not only would it have helped end much of the disparity, it would have ensured that Pakistan stayed united. Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.
Showing posts with label Pakistan state and society. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pakistan state and society. Show all posts
Monday, May 9, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Fear of devolution
IT is ironic how the very vocal supporters of a seriously flawed devolution programme under Gen Musharraf, are opposing a more comprehensive devolution initiated by the current government.
These critics accuse the present civilian rule of being a spurious democracy, presumably in comparison to the `true` democratic military rule of Musharraf. Many such allegations have not relied on legal or constitutional definitions of democracy, not even sociological arguments; but almost always on encryptions, such as the personalities of leaders, their academic (fake) qualifications or their naked profiteering from office. These may be important in assessing the quality of government but not necessarily in measuring its democratic worth. Instead, in the cacophony of political opinions, it may be fair to say that there have been two streams of more serious critical arguments concerning the flaws and shortcomings in the democratic credentials of the current government.The first and most crucial misgiving over the democratic merit of this government has been with regard to its clash with the judiciary and the subsequent inability to resolve the institutional balance of powers. However, several commentators have held that the judiciary itself requires introspection regarding its own role in this impasse.
Second, the lack of resolve to govern when it is crucially required has exposed this government`s role in weakening democracy. By choosing to relinquish its authority, be it on issues of law and order, succumbing to unelected, non-representative religious lobbies, surrendering Fata to the army and US-led operations, reneging on reassurances to Balochistan, this government has been criminally irresponsible. Such rabbit-caught-in-the-headlights responses have amounted to lost opportunities for strengthening serious democratic change afforded in the post-Musharraf period and for which Pakistan will pay a price certainly.
However, any student of democracy will verify that those mechanisms whereby power is thwarted from a centralised system and redistributed, is a necessary component of a fair and representative political system. Even the most vociferous critics of military rule were honest in their assessment of the devolution of 2000 and acknowledged that in principle this was a feature of democracy. Of course, the political motivations behind such fig-leaf moves seeking legitimacy were immediately exposed in the contradictory outcomes. Some appreciable grass-root empowerment went unsupported due to the deliberately unsustainable projects that were launched.
The passing of the 18th Amendment is one of the very few parliamentary initiatives that suggest that this neutered government can actually be effectual if it resolves to be so. All the more reason, that oppositional voices should be muted on this point. Instead, even some pro-democrats are now objecting to the dismantling of federal ministries. Strangely, several `progressives` within civil society, who in theory have been supporting devolution, provincial autonomy and all the usual slogans that liberal democrats carry, are now demonstrating ambiguity over the wisdom of relinquishing authority from some institutions that were `doing good things` in their centralised capacity.
Granted, there has always been historical concern over possible challenges to basic liberties in the name of culture or provincial parochialism. The proposed Hasba bill in what was the NWFP is an example of such apprehension but this was resolved by invoking constitutional pre-eminence. The committee of the 18th Amendment has made it clear that constitutional supremacy and protection of fundamental rights defines the spirit of the devolution of federal authority. All the constitution is meant to do, after all, is to give us cover.
The fear of provincial elite capture, nepotism and ineptness are some of the excuses forwarded by critics. In reality, such criticism stems from a collaborative fear of loss of influence. This is particularly true of those who have made careers by way of establishing networks by pursuing personal relationships with the offices of government, the bureaucracy and donor agencies in Islamabad. It`s no secret that the more savvy and privileged maintain homes and offices in the capital to locate themselves within easy access to the corridors of centralised power. Under the 18th Amendment this may just prove to be a losing investment — not in terms of real estate but by way of power-brokering and procuring projects and contracts.
International agencies would prefer not to wander outside the confines of a city where, traditionally, the mountains have been coming to them. Now, there will have to be more direct interaction with the messy, less familiar, and non-urbane provincial actors and without the interlocution of friendly consultants to advise on the pre-decided fate of projects.
An additional reason to worry is that devolution provides an opportunity for autonomous thinking, planning and development. Under devolution, the Millennium Development Goals and other international guidelines may well be realigned for more contextualised policies that are more relevant to local priorities. So for example, `education for all` may no longer be seen as some measurable tool for increased enrolment. Instead, provincial departments may prioritise their immediate needs as the protection of schools from being bombed or preventing harassment of women on campuses. Yes, we`re told it`s not either/or, yet the fact is that a lot of donor and federal funds prioritise tailor-made projects that lend measurable `outcomes` rather than being led by locally identified, non-quantifiable needs.
Anyone who has been paying attention to the people`s movements at local levels would despair at the sheer distance and lack of responsiveness between federal authorities and the voices of peasants, lady health workers or families of the disappeared.
The devolution process under the 18th Amendment is a tremendous opportunity for us to forge relationships, influence policies and immerse ourselves in our provincial environs. It`s also a responsibility that calls on us to reflect honestly on why we fear what is in principle a fair and democratic process. If we do not embrace opportunities such as this under the pretence of losing `progress so far` then we need to rethink our tools of analysis that have made us such slavish thinkers. If devolution fails this time around we only have ourselves to blame.
The writer is a researcher who writes on socio-political issues.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Utopia and reality
Tanvir Ahmad Khan
The Arab world has been convulsed by people power that has as its vanguard a younger generation taking on regimes entrenched for three decades or more. In quick succession, Tunisia, Egypt, Bahrain and Libya have faced a transformational upsurge with Jordan, Algeria and Yemen registering seismic shocks that are being contained with instant reform packages.
The people of Pakistan watch this panoramic change with an emotional mélange of pain, amazement and, perhaps, envy. The conventional wisdom is that this revolutionary wave will peter out short of Pakistan’s shore. This view is widely held despite the fact that many of the explosive ingredients that have rocked the Arab states are more abundantly present in Pakistan’s body politic. Judged by the traditional drivers of revolutions such as poverty, disease and other manifestations of social marginalisation of vast segments of society, Pakistan should be a more likely candidate for a mass upsurge for change than many of the Arab states.
Since 1990s, alike under political governments and General Musharraf’s dictatorship, resource-constrained Pakistan has been more exposed than most of the Arab states in turmoil today to the darker side of globalisation; the capacity of the state to intervene and reverse impoverisation of millions has visibly shrunk. It is unable to maintain law and order or, for that matter, deliver any kind of security. At the emotive level, the people share the ubiquitous Muslim outrage at injustice – an ingrained Islamic cultural attribute – and there is an extraordinary apprehension of betrayal by the political class. As amongst the Arabs, Pakistanis have a deep sense of humiliation at the hands of foreign powers with which their own government is aligned. Yet there is a sense of complacency that Pakistan is neither Tunisia nor Egypt.
What is the wellspring of this faith that the people of Pakistan will not look for Liberation Squares in their fast disintegrating cities? What are the building blocks of the breakwater that would roll back the revolutionary wave? The most cogent factor that the dominant political class cites for this optimism is that Pakistan has functioning safety valves such as democratic institutions and considerable freedom of speech. Then there is the collective memory of the people that the final outcome – the denouement – of past mass movements was very different from the one dreamt by the huge but poorly led marches because of forceful interventions by the “deep state” and the military. The Utopia of imagination just dissolved into the grim reality of dictatorship.
Where the rulers may be wrong is that many of the dykes have become vulnerable. Political challenges emerge unpredictably. The internet, the Facebook and the SMS provide alternative means of mobilisation; the minimum they do is to accentuate the disconnect between the younger generation and the ruling elite. New modes of communication, such as 24-hour TV, are driven by market forces to align themselves with popular sentiment rather than an unconvincing official narrative of stability and progress.
Above all, having denuded “reconciliation” of substance, the political class is returning to confrontation. This will impinge negatively on every factor from economic recovery to armed insurgencies.
The present scenario is, admittedly, not conducive to a quick liberating revolution; in fact, it portends something worse: descent into anarchy, drift and inane violence spreading from mega cities like Karachi to small towns and even rural areas. Revolutions can have a creative dynamic; anarchy only breeds nihilism. Pakistan has not reached the proverbial tipping point as yet. It needs to radically rethink domestic and foreign policies and not retreat into facile optimism if it wants to protect democracy.
The writer is a former foreign secretary. Email: tanvir.a.khan@ gmail.c
The Arab world has been convulsed by people power that has as its vanguard a younger generation taking on regimes entrenched for three decades or more. In quick succession, Tunisia, Egypt, Bahrain and Libya have faced a transformational upsurge with Jordan, Algeria and Yemen registering seismic shocks that are being contained with instant reform packages.
The people of Pakistan watch this panoramic change with an emotional mélange of pain, amazement and, perhaps, envy. The conventional wisdom is that this revolutionary wave will peter out short of Pakistan’s shore. This view is widely held despite the fact that many of the explosive ingredients that have rocked the Arab states are more abundantly present in Pakistan’s body politic. Judged by the traditional drivers of revolutions such as poverty, disease and other manifestations of social marginalisation of vast segments of society, Pakistan should be a more likely candidate for a mass upsurge for change than many of the Arab states.
Since 1990s, alike under political governments and General Musharraf’s dictatorship, resource-constrained Pakistan has been more exposed than most of the Arab states in turmoil today to the darker side of globalisation; the capacity of the state to intervene and reverse impoverisation of millions has visibly shrunk. It is unable to maintain law and order or, for that matter, deliver any kind of security. At the emotive level, the people share the ubiquitous Muslim outrage at injustice – an ingrained Islamic cultural attribute – and there is an extraordinary apprehension of betrayal by the political class. As amongst the Arabs, Pakistanis have a deep sense of humiliation at the hands of foreign powers with which their own government is aligned. Yet there is a sense of complacency that Pakistan is neither Tunisia nor Egypt.
What is the wellspring of this faith that the people of Pakistan will not look for Liberation Squares in their fast disintegrating cities? What are the building blocks of the breakwater that would roll back the revolutionary wave? The most cogent factor that the dominant political class cites for this optimism is that Pakistan has functioning safety valves such as democratic institutions and considerable freedom of speech. Then there is the collective memory of the people that the final outcome – the denouement – of past mass movements was very different from the one dreamt by the huge but poorly led marches because of forceful interventions by the “deep state” and the military. The Utopia of imagination just dissolved into the grim reality of dictatorship.
Where the rulers may be wrong is that many of the dykes have become vulnerable. Political challenges emerge unpredictably. The internet, the Facebook and the SMS provide alternative means of mobilisation; the minimum they do is to accentuate the disconnect between the younger generation and the ruling elite. New modes of communication, such as 24-hour TV, are driven by market forces to align themselves with popular sentiment rather than an unconvincing official narrative of stability and progress.
Above all, having denuded “reconciliation” of substance, the political class is returning to confrontation. This will impinge negatively on every factor from economic recovery to armed insurgencies.
The present scenario is, admittedly, not conducive to a quick liberating revolution; in fact, it portends something worse: descent into anarchy, drift and inane violence spreading from mega cities like Karachi to small towns and even rural areas. Revolutions can have a creative dynamic; anarchy only breeds nihilism. Pakistan has not reached the proverbial tipping point as yet. It needs to radically rethink domestic and foreign policies and not retreat into facile optimism if it wants to protect democracy.
The writer is a former foreign secretary. Email: tanvir.a.khan@ gmail.c
False choices and realistic options
Najam Sethi
Wednesday, March 02, 2011The word “inqilab” or “revolution” is on everybody’s lips. A majority of Pakistani “have-nots” is hoping for it while a minority of the “haves” is fearful of it. One caller to my live TV show asked: “what is the use of making all these atom bombs if they can’t be thrown on anyone,” to which another angrily provided an answer: “throw them on the poor people of Pakistan so that poverty can be eradicated in one fell blow!”
Last month, Mr Altaf Hussain added his two bits worth by exhorting “patriotic generals” to launch a “bloody revolution”. Now Mr Nawaz Sharif has decided to usurp popular sentiment and is thundering “Damadam Mast Qalandar” in his public gatherings.
So, is a “revolution” about to engulf Pakistan as in the Middle East? No, it isn’t. The collapsing autocratic kleptocracies in the Middle East are being rocked by populist forces for democracy and freedom, much like absolutist Europe in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries and Communist Eastern Europe in the late 1980s at the fag end of the Cold war. Each revolutionary wave was secular and each changed the global balance of power in the world.
But no such secular revolutionary movement for “liberty, equality and fraternity” is churning in the bowels of Pakistan. Indeed, Pakistan’s history is littered with relatively successful but non-secular popular movements for democracy and liberation from dictatorships, even if none quite managed to live up to the promise.
The first student-led revolt in 1968 ousted the secular military government of Gen Ayub Khan. The second multi-party led agitation in 1977 chucked out the secular autocratic regime of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. The third popular revolt was only three years. Young lawyers backed by a free media swept the moderate government of General Pervez Musharraf from power.
That’s why despite three decades of military rule and one decade of fascism under a civilian government, and unlike the states of the Middle East where non-Islamist (but not necessarily secular) democratic change is in the air, Pakistan has an established multi-party political system, regular and broadly acceptable general elections, a fairly consensual constitution, noisy federal and provincial parliaments, fiercely free media and an independent judiciary. So we have none of the political suffocation and repression that has characterised much of the Middle East.
Does this mean that Pakistan is immune to the winds of change blowing in the rest of the Muslim world? No, it doesn’t mean that at all. There are some striking similarities with the Middle East. Over 60 percent of the population of Pakistan, like most Middle Eastern countries, is under 30 years. Most of it is unemployed, alienated and angry because the democratic system is not delivering. Like the ME, anti-Americanism is rife. And like the Middle East, there is outrage against the double standards of the west in supporting decadent, exploitative and oppressive ruling elites in the Third World while simultaneously exporting ideas of democracy, freedom, human rights and liberalism. This suggests that the idea of “revolution, people’s power and radical change” is in the air even in Pakistan.
But the growing tragedy is that this sentiment is anti-democracy, anti-secularism, anti-liberalism and anti-pluralism because the system of political democracy a la Westminster has only served to sustain a game of musical chairs for corrupt politicians and grasping soldiers who have been living off economic rents and military handouts by the United States in pursuit of its foreign policy objectives in South and West Asia. Pakistani democracy is characterised by three Ds – dynastic, dysfunctional and discredited. So is Pakistan headed for an “Islamic revolution” like Iran under Ayatollah Khomeni in 1979? No, it isn’t.
Iran lent itself to an Islamic revolution because it was uniquely different from other Muslim countries. It is ethnically united and religiously homogenous. Also, it had a class of religious scholars who were all united behind one leader. But Pakistan is not ripe for such an Islamist state. It is ethnically divided and intensely sectarian, with dozens of groups or parties constantly squabbling over religious and political issues. Strong regional sub-nationalisms and ethnic loyalties also cut into religious unity, as demonstrated by the secession of East Pakistan in 1981. In 2002, all the major religious parties formed an umbrella organisation (MMA) to contest the elections but still did not make any dent in the political system. In fact, the MMA lost badly in the 2008 elections and the religious parties are squabbling again.
Under the circumstances, what sort of change is possible in Pakistan? The obvious expectation is regime change via elections later this year. But if that merely serves to replace one dysfunctional coalition government with another, there will be more popular frustration with “democracy” and we will have merely postponed the day of reckoning.
Another option is for the military, judiciary and media to implicitly join hands against discredited politicians and political parties by propping up a civilian regime of technocrats to set things right. But keeping the PMLN and PPP out in the cold for any length of time and disqualifying their leaders won’t work. Sooner than later, the media will switch sides and start criticizing the new regime and hankering for “accountable democracy” again.
Meanwhile The various flash points in Pakistan will continue to undermine the economy and disrupt foreign polity. Unemployment, inflation and shortages will keep tempers on the boil. Increasing religiosity and anti-Americanism will keep foreign investors at bay. The mad scramble to stockpile nuclear weapons will continue to ring alarm bells in and outside the region. The proliferation of armed and organised jihadi and Taliban groups will pose severe problems for installing liberal democracy, building peace with India and doing business with the west, all of which are necessary for rejuvenating the state and society of Pakistan.
If a war with India is provoked or there is conflict with the US, then all bets will be off. Elements of a failing state are anarchy, civil strife, war, economic meltdown and secession. The only realistic option is for our political leaders to keep religious passion out of law and politics, anti-American outrage out of economic and foreign policy, and unaccountable corruption and inefficiency out of government. We must make democracy work so that Pakistan can survive and prosper as a nation-state.
The writer is Jang Group/Geo adviser on political affairs.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011The word “inqilab” or “revolution” is on everybody’s lips. A majority of Pakistani “have-nots” is hoping for it while a minority of the “haves” is fearful of it. One caller to my live TV show asked: “what is the use of making all these atom bombs if they can’t be thrown on anyone,” to which another angrily provided an answer: “throw them on the poor people of Pakistan so that poverty can be eradicated in one fell blow!”
Last month, Mr Altaf Hussain added his two bits worth by exhorting “patriotic generals” to launch a “bloody revolution”. Now Mr Nawaz Sharif has decided to usurp popular sentiment and is thundering “Damadam Mast Qalandar” in his public gatherings.
So, is a “revolution” about to engulf Pakistan as in the Middle East? No, it isn’t. The collapsing autocratic kleptocracies in the Middle East are being rocked by populist forces for democracy and freedom, much like absolutist Europe in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries and Communist Eastern Europe in the late 1980s at the fag end of the Cold war. Each revolutionary wave was secular and each changed the global balance of power in the world.
But no such secular revolutionary movement for “liberty, equality and fraternity” is churning in the bowels of Pakistan. Indeed, Pakistan’s history is littered with relatively successful but non-secular popular movements for democracy and liberation from dictatorships, even if none quite managed to live up to the promise.
The first student-led revolt in 1968 ousted the secular military government of Gen Ayub Khan. The second multi-party led agitation in 1977 chucked out the secular autocratic regime of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. The third popular revolt was only three years. Young lawyers backed by a free media swept the moderate government of General Pervez Musharraf from power.
That’s why despite three decades of military rule and one decade of fascism under a civilian government, and unlike the states of the Middle East where non-Islamist (but not necessarily secular) democratic change is in the air, Pakistan has an established multi-party political system, regular and broadly acceptable general elections, a fairly consensual constitution, noisy federal and provincial parliaments, fiercely free media and an independent judiciary. So we have none of the political suffocation and repression that has characterised much of the Middle East.
Does this mean that Pakistan is immune to the winds of change blowing in the rest of the Muslim world? No, it doesn’t mean that at all. There are some striking similarities with the Middle East. Over 60 percent of the population of Pakistan, like most Middle Eastern countries, is under 30 years. Most of it is unemployed, alienated and angry because the democratic system is not delivering. Like the ME, anti-Americanism is rife. And like the Middle East, there is outrage against the double standards of the west in supporting decadent, exploitative and oppressive ruling elites in the Third World while simultaneously exporting ideas of democracy, freedom, human rights and liberalism. This suggests that the idea of “revolution, people’s power and radical change” is in the air even in Pakistan.
But the growing tragedy is that this sentiment is anti-democracy, anti-secularism, anti-liberalism and anti-pluralism because the system of political democracy a la Westminster has only served to sustain a game of musical chairs for corrupt politicians and grasping soldiers who have been living off economic rents and military handouts by the United States in pursuit of its foreign policy objectives in South and West Asia. Pakistani democracy is characterised by three Ds – dynastic, dysfunctional and discredited. So is Pakistan headed for an “Islamic revolution” like Iran under Ayatollah Khomeni in 1979? No, it isn’t.
Iran lent itself to an Islamic revolution because it was uniquely different from other Muslim countries. It is ethnically united and religiously homogenous. Also, it had a class of religious scholars who were all united behind one leader. But Pakistan is not ripe for such an Islamist state. It is ethnically divided and intensely sectarian, with dozens of groups or parties constantly squabbling over religious and political issues. Strong regional sub-nationalisms and ethnic loyalties also cut into religious unity, as demonstrated by the secession of East Pakistan in 1981. In 2002, all the major religious parties formed an umbrella organisation (MMA) to contest the elections but still did not make any dent in the political system. In fact, the MMA lost badly in the 2008 elections and the religious parties are squabbling again.
Under the circumstances, what sort of change is possible in Pakistan? The obvious expectation is regime change via elections later this year. But if that merely serves to replace one dysfunctional coalition government with another, there will be more popular frustration with “democracy” and we will have merely postponed the day of reckoning.
Another option is for the military, judiciary and media to implicitly join hands against discredited politicians and political parties by propping up a civilian regime of technocrats to set things right. But keeping the PMLN and PPP out in the cold for any length of time and disqualifying their leaders won’t work. Sooner than later, the media will switch sides and start criticizing the new regime and hankering for “accountable democracy” again.
Meanwhile The various flash points in Pakistan will continue to undermine the economy and disrupt foreign polity. Unemployment, inflation and shortages will keep tempers on the boil. Increasing religiosity and anti-Americanism will keep foreign investors at bay. The mad scramble to stockpile nuclear weapons will continue to ring alarm bells in and outside the region. The proliferation of armed and organised jihadi and Taliban groups will pose severe problems for installing liberal democracy, building peace with India and doing business with the west, all of which are necessary for rejuvenating the state and society of Pakistan.
If a war with India is provoked or there is conflict with the US, then all bets will be off. Elements of a failing state are anarchy, civil strife, war, economic meltdown and secession. The only realistic option is for our political leaders to keep religious passion out of law and politics, anti-American outrage out of economic and foreign policy, and unaccountable corruption and inefficiency out of government. We must make democracy work so that Pakistan can survive and prosper as a nation-state.
The writer is Jang Group/Geo adviser on political affairs.
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