Guardianship is a model that many Muslim societies have experienced in recent decades. Guardianship has been the line of argument pursued by those who wish to legitimise and consolidate either army rule (Turkey, Egypt or Pakistan) or clerical rule (as in Iran). The guiding premise behind guardianship is about protection and safeguarding the interests of the nation and to protect a set of ideals. For the Turkish Army it was to protect “secularism”, for Mubarak’s military-backed establishment it was to protect “stability” and to safeguard Egypt from a theocratic takeover — that was Mubarak’s story anyway. In Pakistan, the army has always abused its power and overstepped its limits by constructing a narrative of existential peril vis-à-vis India. The conventional wisdom behind army interference in Pakistani politics was centred on paranoia about the Hindu “other” in addition to the corruption and debauchery of civilian politicians. The Pakistan Army established a praetorian state based on the politics of fear and mistrust vis-à-vis India. The “social contract” of the Pakistan Army and its people is based primarily on fear and insecurity. Until recently, that narrative has held true for many Pakistanis. The army was until recent events such as the Abbottabad raid and the attack on the Mehran naval base the only institution that was trusted. In Turkey as well, the army still enjoys popular support in some quarters. There is a belief that the Turkish Army is the last defence against the “Islamisation” of Turkish society. In Iran the powerful nexus between the establishmentarian clerics and the Revolutionary Guard is seen as a buffer against western interference and colonial humiliation. In all these diverse cases, the narrative of guardianship has emerged. The startling thing is that many people from different walks of life agree with this narrative. In Turkey and Egypt secularists pressed for autocratic rule, in Iran it was the clerics and religious hardliners. In Pakistan the situation is more in flux; the army has developed a highly reflexive brand of autocracy that can play to multiple constituencies whether the Anglophone elite of the country or fundamentalist clerics. It is this tension between the army’s leanings towards the westernised elites, particularly at the level of leadership, and its soldiers who come from the socially conservative masses, many of whom are now being radicalised by clerics at the grassroots level. The Pakistan Army has adopted at numerous times the mythology and imagery of Islamic emotionalism as a distraction from its westernised moorings at the leadership level. At the leadership level the Pakistan Army has historically enjoyed close ties with the west whilst portraying themselves as agents of “Islamisation” at home. In the process the liberal and democratic voices in Pakistan, both secular and religious, were marginalised and inevitably gunned down or forced to flee. The myth of guardianship ensures that dissent is quashed and accountability and rights are denied. In Turkey, the judiciary and the oldest party in the country, the Republican People’s Party (CHP), have tacitly supported army intervention in politics and traditionally acted as opponents of real democratisation. The CHP has only started to change its tune after receiving massive defeats in elections over the last 10 years. In this case the current CHP leadership and platform is not something organic or a real alternative, it is still reacting to the successes of the AKP. In Iran, anti-establishmentarian clerics such as the late Grand Ayatollah Montazeri or Mohsen Kadivar were harassed by the state or put under house arrest. In Pakistan, journalists who report on the links between the army and terrorists are mysteriously gunned down. In Egypt, Mubarak spoke of being a buffer against theocratic Islamism but ran large camps for political prisoners and resorted to torturing his opponents. In all these scenarios these abuses have taken place within the framework of ‘guardianship’. A genuine alternative now has to be presented and that must be to create a constitutional culture. Iran, Turkey, Pakistan and now Egypt suffer from or have suffered from grave political crises because the writ of the constitution has been cast aside in favour of guardianship mythologies. The current rift between Ahmadinejad and the Supreme Leader or the foregone conflict between the AKP and the judiciary (which is merely an extension of the Kemalist establishment) are the result of a dysfunctional constitutional culture. The tensions in Iran’s constitution between its clerical and democratic elements remain unresolved; Turkey’s constitution is a reflection of the will of the military and in Pakistan, although the presence of draconian laws such as those related to blasphemy and freedom of religion remain, the anaemic performance of the Pakistani judiciary has meant the idea of the constitution has never been truly implemented or observed. Nascent democracies suffer from establishing a strong core of constitutional mechanisms that can limit power, whether it be statist or military. The performance of the judiciary is key to the success of a constitutional democracy. Recourse to a set of inviolable political principles that all political actors can abide by is necessary for a coherent political culture that is not paralysed by conflict and eternal violent dispute. Once authoritarian actors such as the military step into public life under the pretence of the greater good and with aspirations of ‘guardianship’, the weak flickering flame of liberty in nascent democracies is snuffed out. No matter what the circumstance, it is imperative that military power be disconnected from civilian politics. Armies cannot hope to speak for secularism or Islam. In the paper, ‘Constitutionalism, Judiciary, and Democracy in Islamic Societies’ (Polity 39, 479-501, October 2007), the author concludes, “Judicial review, sanctioned by democratically written liberal constitutions and not guarded by non-elected institutions such as the military, would be a guardian of individual and minority rights in Islamic societies.” Democracy requires protection and sustenance by the constitutional protection of rights. It is therefore clear that the judiciary, whether in Iran, Turkey or Pakistan, has to champion the rights of the people, disregarding ideological positions. Judges must be bound by liberal concerns rather than safeguarding a statist/military ideology, which only leads to legally sanctioned coercion and discrimination. To seek peace, power has to be scrutinised. The nature of judicial power has to be put through serious questioning by citizens in order to guarantee their political rights. Too often, as is the case in Turkey and Pakistan, the judiciary has collaborated with autocratic regimes, which has led to an erosion of human rights and added legitimacy to “extra-constitutional/democratic” sources of power such as the military. Power has to be severed between the judiciary and the praetorian state with its overt militaristic tendencies. Inevitably, constitutional rule is only valid if it is democratic. The Turkish constitution and certain parts of the Pakistani constitution are non-democratic (in terms of their drafting or substantive clauses) and hence pose a threat to the democratic aspirations of their citizens. The failure of the judiciary has led to the praetorian state establishing control overtly or subtly in Pakistan, Iran and Turkey. Power has been invested in the armed forces rather than in civilians. Furthermore, the principles of independence, integrity and transparency remain paramount in the operations of a liberally-centred judiciary. The writer is a freelance columnist. He can be reached at ahmadalikhalid@ymail.com