Daily Times

“We have a sick man on our hands, a man gravely ill, it will be a great misfortune if one of these days he slips through our hands, especially before the necessary arrangements are made,” said Russian Tsar Nicholas I in 1853 to the British Ambassador, G H Seymour. To which the ambassador replied, “Your majesty says the man is sick, it is very true, but your majesty will deign to excuse me if I remark that it is the part of the generous and strong man to treat with gentleness the sick and feeble man.”

The ‘sick man’ in question was not really a man, but a country, and a rather formidable one too. It was one of the great empires of the world, but symptoms of its grave illness were apparent to everyone. The two statesmen were discussing the Turkish Ottoman Empire.

It is easy to imagine the US President Barack Obama saying exactly the above words to the Chinese ambassador in Washington, and the latter giving the same reply as the British ambassador quoted above. Except that, the reference would be to a different sick man. Instead of the Ottoman Empire, it would be the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. The sick man of 1853 was a vast empire, rotting but not ready either to reform or to go without a fight. Today’s sick man too refuses to heed good advice, despite the loss of a ‘limb’ in 1971. What’s more, he is armed with the nuclear bomb and maybe ready to explode it if threatened or provoked.

Alastair Campbell, former British prime minister, Tony Blair’s communications director, recalls in his published diaries (The Burden of Power) that during a visit to Pakistan in 2001, a Pakistani general “asked me to remind the Indians: ‘It takes us eight seconds to get the missiles over,’ then flashed a huge toothy grin.”

If Pakistan were an incorporated or a limited company, the regulatory authorities and auditors would put it under receivership or shut it down about this time, if not sooner. If it were a country in the 19th or the early 20th century, the great powers would occupy or partition it into spheres of influence, as they did China, Iran and the Ottoman empire, to name a few.

Sick or not, the country has definitely come a full circle. With the Supreme Court — which now reigns supreme — dismissing the prime minister, the last remaining link has been provided and the chain of dismissals completed. We have achieved another dubious distinction in the comity of nations: the head of every organ of the state (president, prime minister, army chief and chief justice) has had the pleasure of dismissing another!

In a country where the rule is to flout the rule, the president, prime minister and the parliament, in this instance, have made an exception and bowed before the verdict of the supreme court. Which is good, but we wonder why.

Once upon a time, a prime minister who enjoyed what he himself liked to call a ‘heavy mandate’ from the people, dispatched his goons to storm the Supreme Court because of an unfavourable verdict from the then chief justice. Not this time, and not because the current ‘light mandate’ president and prime minister lack the inclination or the street power. It is the firepower they lack. The judiciary may not have guns but the army has, and it is behind the judiciary on this occasion. Goons being no match for guns, the Pakistan People’s Party jiyalas have quite wisely decided to live to fight another day.

Recapitulating a bit of history is in order. It began within seven years of the country’s founding. Some might say, within a year, if we take into account the controversial circumstances surrounding the last year and the death of the founding father, Mohammad Ali Jinnah.

In 1954, Governor General Malik Ghulam Mohammad dismissed Prime Minister Khawaja Nazimuddin and was himself dismissed shortly thereafter, while on sick leave, by the acting Governor General (and retired Major-General) Iskandar Mirza. Soon Mirza contrived to become Pakistan’s first president and, with the support of the Commander-in-Chief of the Army, General Ayub Khan, showed the door to four prime ministers within three years. Returning the favour, Mirza made Ayub Khan the chief martial law administrator, only to be dismissed and exiled by the latter 20 days later. Perhaps in appreciation of the power of the gun in the power play, Ayub Khan decided to become the biggest field gun of all by promoting himself to the rank of field marshall.

The total head count now stands at 16 at least. Army chiefs have sacked five presidents and prime ministers. Heads of state (governor general or president) have dismissed eight prime ministers. A prime minister sacked an army chief in full flight, literally speaking (only to be arrested by him upon landing). A president sent a chief justice home, and now the self-same, restored, chief justice has fired the prime minister, none other than his reluctant restorer. The cycle of dismissals is thus complete.

In fact, we have not only completed the circle, but also gone over by a bit. Like a very large vehicle or a ship that cannot stop instantly, the momentum (and, might I add pleasure) of sacking was so great that a future prime minister has been dismissed even before taking office. An arrest warrant in an old case was issued for the nominee of the ruling coalition hours before he was to be installed as the next prime minister. Call it anticipatory dismissal, if you will. His replacement has just been sworn in as Pakistan’s 25th prime minister. How long will he last? Suffice it to mention that the average tenure of Pakistani prime ministers so far has been just about one year.

All that remains for Pakistan’s powers that be is to sack the people of Pakistan. Recall that more than half the population of the country, the people of what was then the province of East Pakistan (now Bangladesh), were sacked in 1971. Who next, what now? It is far too complicated for my little, ageing brain, dear reader.

The writer is a former academic with a doctorate in modern history
and can be reached at raziazmi@hotmail.com