Judgment and beyond

Not many objective commentators will be able to take an extreme line on yesterday’s verdict in the Musharraf treason trial; such are the extremities of our situation. Theirs will understandably be a cautious tone, also because a lot needs to become clear. Some have brought up the issue of what happens to Musharraf’s collaborators, meaning in fact his civilian comrades. This may also be a legal question, but perhaps only if the issue can be said to have figured meaningfully somewhere in the line of defence in how the case proceeded. Otherwise, logically speaking – and in view of so much trouble that was caused and suffered to obstruct the path of the trial – the raising of this issue now may carry little weight, even if it succeeds brilliantly as partisan rhetoric. At the end of the day, what may matter more is the fact that Pakistan has seen too many instances of legalities and logic losing to partisan rhetoric of power. The question of collaboration, depending on how it is expanded or limited, can mean that we have bitten off more than we can chew. Or it can mean nothing. Others have also wondered on how many counts Musharraf has been indicted. This is important because the sentence passed is that of death, even if it can be nothing but symbolic. At this stage, to say definitively what the consequences would be in real terms is, to put it safely, premature.

However, the political and legal spectrum will not be entirely empty of those either jubilant in the extreme with the proclamations of an end to dictatorial disruptions in the political process or so offended by the judgment as to call into question the very raison de’tre of the trial that led to it. Some have raised the question of collaborators rather differently as part of their rhetoric, which apparently seeks to implicate all or none, the desired result in both cases being none. Some have already managed to find the judgment worse than the judicial murder of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. Who says we lack imagination? The verdict has also been termed ‘divisive’ (meaning something that could be done without at the moment) by some who are part of the government now. Those who judge the judgment this way don’t care to tell us when such a verdict would not be divisive or how ‘unitive’ their party’s stance was when the seeds of the alleged ‘divisiveness’ were sown with the judges and lawyers movement in 2007. What is happening now can only be traced to what happened then. A judicial retort, if it comes at all, to such criticism can be that certain politicians being out of power then and in power now is no concern of the law. In any case, the wider question is: which important issue in our history has not had the problem of ‘divisiveness’ raised? This has been so much a part of the rhetoric mentioned above that the conclusion can only be that power is achieved and maintained at the cost of national unity, with the issue of divisiveness becoming a constant in the ideology of domination. Those found lamenting the judgment as divisive are also those who face criticism for dividing the polity like never before, on their way to power and in the way political power came to them. To see the judgment as causing division is to be conveniently willing to read too much into it. At best – and finding this best may require some effort – such outcomes can be seen only as mirroring what already exists and has existed for long.

We have also heard, again, the by-now familiar joke: democracy is the best revenge – as if our champions of democracy, and democracy itself, had anything to do with the judgment. Such slogans imply that democracy here is now strong enough to hold the powerful accountable democratically. The truth is that in the years that have followed since the Musharraf trial began much autocratic water has gone under and over many a democratic bridge and the mechanisms of authoritative control have changed radically. No international or national study of the state of democracy can honestly record a rosy tale of democratic progress in our case. The most tragic aspect of the dark tale has been the active willingness of our democrats to take democracy to the state it is found in today. The fact is that what would have been historic yesterday is more prone than it ever was to be merely an illusion today.

What lies at the heart of the matter is a crisis of consensus among the rulers on how to rule this country with any degree of cohesion. The ensuing chaos has thrown up quite a few tragic farces or farcical tragedies. Like in any such ‘divisive’ crisis, the chance to find room for themselves is there for our democrats to take. But they can only take it on their own peril. A famous wise old man once wrote that theory becomes a material force when it grips the masses. But when democrats have no theory to begin with and the ‘masses’ are left in the grip of misery with no vision to inspire them, we have empty slogans filling the space left empty – of democracy being the best revenge. A crisis of the scale we face is a challenging time also for those who rule in reality and those ruling the moment. The chance and choice to rebuild or destroy is inherent in a political crisis. It is up to them how they rise, or do not rise, to the occasion. Since they have power, they should also have a greater awareness of how to avoid pitfalls. The problem here is that, like too much light, too much power can also cause a blindness of sorts, and this can only worsen the crisis. In the end, it all boils down to the choice between power tempered with vision and accountability, and power absolute and supreme.

A verdict is in – in today’s Pakistan. And in Pakistan today seeing such verdicts with clarity is more difficult than it would have been even a few years back. Too many shadows dancing on the walls of our cave of uncertainty. Ritualistically speaking, it will be easier to see where we go from here once the full verdict is out. The lesson of history is clear on one thing though. Verdicts or no verdicts, no dictator anywhere, no matter how awesome, handsome and fearsome, would ever be strong enough to usurp the destiny of a people and country – if it weren’t for the active collaboration, willing or unwilling, of forces political and not so political, individuals good and bad and institutions judicial, political and social.