Many commentators question the wisdom of another mid-term election. It is argued that since Nawaz Sharif is not likely to prove a worthier leader than Benazir Bhutto, a fresh election cannot provide any meaningful “resolution” to the crisis of government today. Far better, the argument goes, that Benazir, however flawed, should be allowed to complete her term so that some stable rules are established for the future.
Other thinking is focussed on the long-term viability of a parliamentary system which breeds corruption, anarchy and inefficiency. Again, most analysts are opposed to any tinkering with the system by the army whose record of interventionism is rather dismal. Far better, it is said, that the system be given time and space to develop internal checks and balances to improve its performance. In this context, voices are heard urging the Presidency and/or the judiciary to take a lead in “cleansing” the system.
These are weighty considerations. But all such formulations, and their variations, lead to a host of unanswered problems. If mid-term elections are no solution and the present government is allowed to run riot for another two years or so, the crisis of state and economy will inevitably lead to a complete breakdown of the rules of the game instead of strengthening some of them. By postponing a suitable resolution of the underlying crisis, are we not ensuring that the final day of reckoning will be brutal and convulsive?
If mid-term elections are no panacea and we also cannot afford to let Benazir Bhutto ravage the landscape, we must examine the possibility and efficacy of the second theme — an internal, on-going reform of the parliamentary system with or without the assistance of the Presidency, judiciary or army.
The prime minister and the leader of the opposition have, when the roles were reversed, clearly demonstrated their inability and unwillingness to reform the system from within and give us good government. Tragically, both leaders remain prisoners of their past. If they cannot think ahead, what can the Presidency, judiciary or army do within the bounds of the constitution?
The President, clearly, does not have the power to initiate any meaningful reform. He acts on the advice of the prime minister except where the 8th amendment gives him certain discretionary powers. Foremost among these is the power to dismiss a government and call fresh elections. But is it desirable to exercise this power if its sole objective is only to order another round of musical chairs?
The judiciary’s position is only marginally better. While judges may conceivably thwart the implementation of a particular policy or project, they can hardly compel an aggressive executive to undertake far-reaching reforms against itself. Nor is the judiciary, on its own, sufficiently equipped or competent enough to provide lasting and credible solutions to recurring political gridlocks. Every attempt by the judiciary to untie a difficult political knot in the past has been followed by a political crisis of greater magnitude which has had to be finally resolved by non-judicial means.
The army’s conduct is also supposed to be guided strictly by the constitution. But unlike the other organs of the state, the army is equipped with the brute force necessary to compel its advice. The only problem is that whenever the army has overthrown the constitution in order to rule directly, it has created a bigger mess than the one it inherited. On two occasions, however, the army may be said to have acted behind the scenes to pave the way for change. And what happened?
In 1990, the generals conspired in the overthrow of an elected government and helped rig the elections which followed. This action was malafide, not least because it sought to advance the mundane ambitions of General Aslam Beg. In 1993, the army acted once again to pave the way for fresh elections. This action was justified because the machinery of government had broken down, because General Waheed had no personal ambitions and because the elections which followed were free and fair. The two different but discreet interventions, however, had one thing in common — far from resolving the crisis of the parliamentary system, both merely served to postpone it to a future date. GHQ was found lacking in sincerity in 1990 and vision in 1993. The conclusions are obvious.
The much-trampled upon constitution of 1973 remains favourably disposed to a non-intrusive President, a malleable judiciary, an obedient army, a rubber-stamp cabinet and a self-perpetuating parliament of corrupt public representatives. It is, in fact, tailored to suit an overbearing chief executive who cannot countenance any dissent or allow any checks and balances to take root in the system. How on earth can radical reform of state and economy occur from within such a closed system?
Political pundits would do well to stop carping about what cannot or should not be done to the system of prime ministerial, parliamentary ‘democracy’. Positive thinking demands that all patriotic forces put their heads together to fashion a sincere and visionary agenda for reform. In the fullness of time, an opportunity is bound to present itself for its implementation.