In Pakistan, the army is key

A commanding officer viewed the roadblocks in front of the Presidential Office in Islamabad, Pakistan, on Monday. (Wally Santana/Associated Press)

JUST WHEN outside observers were marveling at "liberal autocrat" General Pervez Musharraf's indulgence of democratic tendencies in Pakistan, a country that has been under military rule for more than half its existence, he pulled the rug from under their feet.

Claiming to put "Pakistan first," the general appeared to be putting himself first, in the face of a likely Supreme Court ruling against his eligibility for reelection. By imposing a state of emergency, setting aside the constitution, issuing a new Provisional Constitutional Order, ruthlessly decimating the judiciary, and attacking the fledgling broadcast media, he set back Pakistan's quest for democracy and its fight against terrorism within its borders.

Paradoxically, while he used his coercive power as chief of army staff to announce these changes, he also may have put himself in a potentially difficult situation with his main base - the country's army.

Today, the army, an institution that some see as the political glue holding the fractured polity of Pakistan together, is fighting an armed insurgency against homegrown Islamist extremists in the border region along Afghanistan, a region where Al Qaeda has also established its hold, and in Swat, in the North West Frontier Province. But despite more than $10 billion in US aid since 2001, the army is ill-equipped and ill-trained for counter-insurgency warfare. Witness the regular reports of Frontier Constabulary soldiers and officers surrendering rather than fighting their fellow nationals and fellow tribesmen.

That insurgency and its terrorist advance guard have now entered the heartland of Pakistan. Military force has been ineffective in controlling the insurgency in Swat. Terrorist attacks are now directed at the army itself in Rawalpindi and Sargodha, and against leading political figures, such as former prime minister Benazir Bhutto. In the past, Musharraf has been a target too.

In his speech Saturday rationalizing the state of emergency, Musharraf described many threats to the stability of Pakistan but highlighted terrorism. Yet the concrete measures he took were aimed at removing recalcitrant judges, imprisoning opposition politicians, and silencing the media. He offered no well-defined steps to fight terror or the insurgency. His assumption was that the West would go along with his moves so long as they were couched in terms of fighting terror.

Now, as the people come out onto the streets and challenge Musharraf's regime, he may resort to using the army to control the cities of the heartland. In the past, the army has balked at being used in such fashion and removed autocratic rulers, both civil and military, and there is evidence of dissatisfaction within its ranks now. Its officers and soldiers have been smarting under the treatment of their colleagues in the frontier region by insurgents. Beheadings and public shaming of captured soldiers and officers by radical insurgents have added to their unhappiness. They battle the faceless and well-armed enemy without personal protective armor and bulletproof vehicles - and sometimes, according to army insiders, even without adequate boots.

If the state of emergency does not allow Musharraf to control the insurgency or reduce terrorist attacks in Pakistan's cities, the army sadly may become the key to effecting yet another change: to restore the transition to democracy that Musharraf once promised. The general could still retrieve the situation somewhat by shedding his uniform, setting up a neutral caretaker government, allowing both Bhutto and former prime minister Nawaz Sharif to participate in the political process, and holding the promised elections within the next 90 days. But Musharraf seems to be digging in his heels in favor of the status quo, relying on military muscle to keep him in power.

If he does not move to live up to his past promises to Pakistan and the world, the United States and other allies could take a firmer stance. This would require a marked shift from the hedged statements that have emanated from Washington and other Western capitals. An aid cutoff that would affect the army directly is most likely to spur the general and his military colleagues to respond in a positive manner. If not, Pakistan risks a headlong slide to autocracy and political chaos again.

Shuja Nawaz is the author of "Crossed Swords: Pakistan, Its Army, and the Wars Within," forthcoming from Oxford University Press.