Aboard the Democracy Train (27 page)

The UN has questioned the legality of drone attacks because of the highly covert nature of the strikes. Although the true extent of civilian casualties are unknown, a study by the New America Foundation shows that while drones have killed more than 1,300 people, the civilian fatality rate is approximately 30 per cent of that figure.

On the other hand, Washington has ramped up drone attacks because they avoid the loss of US lives, and there is no media to record the blood spilled on the ground. But the strikes remain highly unpopular in Pakistan, where common people pay the ultimate price. These drone attacks have been avenged by the militants through a spree of almost indiscriminate suicide attacks in Pakistan.

In 2007 – the year that gave birth to the current situation in Pakistan – alarm bells rang in Washington that two firebrand clerics – Maulvi Abdul Aziz and Abdur Rashid Ghazi – planned to “Talibanize” Pakistan through their state funded Red Mosque in Islamabad.

There were real fears in the US that the speed with which the Taliban had grown under Gen. Musharraf had reached Islamabad. In Washington, think tanks had begun to speak out that the sons of the late Islamic radical Maulana Qari Abdullah – who had managed to collect rabid militants in the capital of nuclear-armed Pakistan – could usher in a horrific attack on the West that would make 9/11 pale in comparison.

The Red Mosque was emblematic of the dual character of the Musharraf administration. The mosque was patronized by senior government and intelligence officials, even as its clerics were known to keep close links with the Al Qaeda and the Taliban.

On a visit from Washington DC to Islamabad, I came face to face with how the influx of foreign money, massage parlors and video shops had sharpened the contradiction between poor Islamic militants and the corrupt ruling military elite and provoked the puritanical Red Mosque clerics to take on the administration.

Red Mosque cleric, late Abdur Rasheed Ghazi asserted that he and his brother had repeatedly asked the Musharraf administration to clean up the trash – i.e. close down the brothels and the massage parlors – but without success. In his words, “We are now tired of asking and have decided to take out the trash ourselves.”

Thereafter,
burqa
-clad female students of the Red Mosque’s sister seminary, Jamia Hafsa began a “purification drive” in Islamabad by kidnapping three women accused of running a brothel. Word had it that the brothel was patronized by senior government officials. Ghazi’s activism temporarily paid off and he forced the foreign women and their children to close shop before they were released.

Under US pressure, Musharraf ordered the demolition of a mosque being illegally constructed by the Red Mosque clerics. At that stage, television images captured tall,
burqa
-covered students in dark glasses and armed with machine guns as they occupied a children’s library next door. It made civil society wonder aloud whether these were really women or tall men in women’s clothing.

Washington watched with unease as the Red Mosque clerics carried out their militant activities right next to Islamabad’s diplomatic enclave. It was strangely reminiscent of 1992, when the military had let dacoits rampage through Sindh without lifting a finger. There was a brief lull as Gen. Musharraf sent senior leaders of his party to negotiate with the militants.

And then came the storm.

Ironically dubbed “Operation Silence,” the encirclement of Red Mosque by 12,000 army men turned into a deafening war between the army and 600 heavily armed militants holed inside. Red Mosque cleric, Maulana Abdul Aziz fled wearing a
burqa
while his brother, Abdur Rashid Ghazi, a loquacious speaker, held the fort for hours before he was killed with some 84 militants – and promptly dubbed a martyr.

The siege of the Red Mosque proved to be a turning point for Pakistan. Betrayed by the army, the militants fled to North Waziristan where they swelled the ranks of the Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP). Apart from the Punjabi Taliban, based on sectarian groups, former state-sponsored elements reinvented themselves under the Asian Tigers.

The connection of Red Mosque militants with North Waziristan came to the fore when the Asian Tigers killed former ISI officer, Khalid Khawaja who had boldly accompanied a British journalist
of Pakistani origin, Asad Qureishi, during his investigative reporting into the tribal areas. Khawaja was accused by the Taliban of double-dealing in the Red Mosque episode. At the same time, the TTP kept an accompanying army officer, Col. Inam in capitvity as they debated whether or not to kill him for espionage. He too was eventually killed.

When Gen. Pervaiz Musharraf ousted Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif through a military coup in October 1999, he had managed to convince a number of people that democracy spelt anarchy. For a while the popular wisdom was that tried and tested politicians were “corrupt,” and that the military was the only institution that could bring stability and relief for people suffering from the greed and chaos of politicians.

But as the Al Qaeda and Taliban introduced suicide bombers on the Iraq pattern, new forms of terrorism manifested in Pakistan. The situation in Balochistan, never good under previous rulers, saw an escalation in violence. Disappearances, torture and an absence of freedom of expression became the order of the day. As poverty showed no sign of abating, people began to clamor for a return to democracy.

In my visits to Pakistan, I saw how Musharraf had attempted to strengthen the military at the expense of the people. The roads were full of potholes, there were many more beggars on the streets and the chaos of people and traffic was more unseemly. The trade deficit had grown by several million dollars. Billions of rupees had been loaned to highly connected people, who had defaulted on payments. While US annual military aid of USD 1 billion was unaccounted for, the Taliban had grown with a vengeance.

In Karachi’s Defense Housing Society, which catered to the privileged military elite, there were new hotels, expensive golf courses and private clubs that catered exclusively to the ruling elite. The armed forces reclaimed land from Clifton beach, where multinational franchises like McDonalds and Kentucky Fried Chicken sprung up for a class which could the afford the dollar
rates. New roads, bridges and roundabouts had grown Karachi into a mega city and changed it beyond recognition.

Under Musharraf, army and naval chiefs, as well as intelligence officers – retired and serving, were appointed as heads of the government corporations. They controlled transportation, communication and education at the federal and provincial levels. At the same time, tax exemptions to military personnel had enabled them to invest in national industries and turn it into a profit.

Militaristic responses to political problems, unfair allocation to the provinces, widespread unemployment and a yawning gulf between the rich would motivate poor people to cry for an end to military rule and the return to democracy.

As the Taliban grew more powerful, the US Congress forced Musharraf to release his chokehold on political parties. At the same time, it made contact with secular parties that could play a role in the future set-up. The Awami National Party, based in the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province bordering Afghanistan – came up for air. The ANP, which had been sidestepped by Musharraf in the 2002 election, told US leaders that the resurgence of the Taliban was a “ticking time bomb” for the region.

The biggest beneficiary of Musharraf’s fall from grace would be the Pakistan Peoples Party, led by Benazir Bhutto. Educated in the West and keenly attuned to Western needs, Benazir was aware that her fortunes were knitted into Washington’s post-9/11 framework. As the only female prime minister of Pakistan and indeed the Muslim world, Benazir pledged to free her country from Islamic extremism.

Still, the Republican administration led by George W. Bush stayed skeptical of Benazir, aware that only the army could deliver vis-à-vis US strategic interests. Moreover, as chief of army staff and president, Musharraf had since 9/11 enjoyed a special relationship with President Bush. In 2007 however Bush’s fortunes were on the decline and the Democratic Party, aware that Musharraf’s sagging profile needed a facelift, understood the logic of putting Benazir Bhutto in the picture.

And yet, it was nearly decade since Benazir had left Pakistan. During this period, Pakistan had grown vastly more dangerous
because of the resurgence of the Al Qaeda, Taliban and its sectarian affiliates. Moreover, being the largest political party, the PPP had been infiltrated by the mafia. The contradictions sharpened because, while the army secretly held on to its policies of strategic depth, Benazir pledged to go the extra mile in crushing the Taliban.

All her life, Benazir had been dogged by the non-transparent dealings of the military’s intelligence agencies. Indeed, as a young prime minister, she had asked us how she could control the agencies. Some two decades later, her sixth sense made her reach out to world that, should anything happen to her, she would hold Musharraf directly responsible for the consequences.

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Some two decades may have separated President Gen. Zia ul Haq and President Gen. Pervaiz Musharraf’s military rule in Pakistan, but they had one person in common – Benazir Bhutto. The twice-elected woman prime minister of Pakistan took on both military rulers, one by one, with a promise to take the nation from dictatorship into democracy.

Ironically, on both occasions – 1988 and 2007 – Benazir went to Pakistan with a commitment from officials in Washington at a time when the US needed Pakistan to achieve its strategic objectives in Afghanistan. Never mind the fact that millions of people were ready to vote for her, realpolitik demanded that the road to Islamabad be traveled not through the dusty villages of Pakistan but through the power corridors of Washington DC.

In 2006, as Benazir solicited US help to return to power, I went from DC to Maryland to hear her address a rally – organized by
PPP workers. That cold February afternoon, she told expatriates gathered in a hotel around lunch tables in a speech in English, intended for the consumption of the US government,

“One crucial reason Gen. Musharraf gets so little pressure from the Bush administration about restoring democracy is the assumption that only a dictator can deliver military cooperation. That had better not be true.”

Benazir made the sales pitch to Washington at a time when its “blue eyed boy,” Gen. Pervaiz Musharraf – who then wore two hats as chief of army staff and president – prosecuted President George W. Bush’s “War on Terror.” Western pressure on Musharraf to relax his chokehold on politicians had led to the release of Benazir’s husband Asif Zardari in 2004. Pakistan’s former woman prime minister followed it up with a visit to the US capital to test the waters for her return to power.

Asif, who underwent medical treatment while he lived in an apartment in New York, joined Benazir after the speech. High-spirited and cheery, he flashed his familiar grin as he met expatriates. Out of Benazir’s earshot and away from the public milieu, I asked him with an informality that came from long years of acquaintanceship.

“So, you need to come to Washington to get back into power?”

“Of course, it is after all the world’s only super power,” he shot back.

We had the conversation at PPP senator, Khawaja Akbar’s home in Virginia after Benazir had sent word to me to join their private gathering. After her speech, I had walked to the stage where she signed autographs for a bevy of admirers. It had been more than a decade since I came face to face with Benazir. Still, her look of genuine surprise at seeing me in the US – as opposed to familiar surroundings in Pakistan – came with a warm response.

“Wait, I want to see you,” she said.

Minutes later, she had sent her senator to my table with a message to follow her small entourage to his Virginia home. It was an occasion to have a close sitting with Benazir and Asif, away from the public glare and in a small homely setting. Benazir looked different without her head cover, with shoulder-length
light brown hair and a heavier physique, but she still had the same twinkling eyes that reflected her deep self-assurance.

She picked my brains on a drone missile attack that had then occurred in Damadola in Bajaur tribal agency.

“Do you know if the missile attack actually killed Ayman Zawahiri’s nephew as the government claims?”

I told her that it did not appear so, and that there were contradictory statements about the incident in the US newspapers as well.

Benazir had read with interest the Washington Post’s editorial, which cast aspersions on Gen. Musharraf’s role in the “War on Terror” and questioned the effectiveness of keeping him as an ally. As early as 2006, the US media’s critical comments that Musharraf could be engaged in double dealing with the West had obviously presented itself to her as an opportunity.

At that juncture, Benazir’s relationship with Musharraf was one of spy versus spy as both seasoned politicians – one civilian and the other military – worked to outfox each other. While Benazir gathered information on how Musharraf fared in the US, his administration followed her activities in Washington, DC with eagle eyes.

Only a few weeks earlier, Interpol had issued a red alert against Benazir and Asif on money laundering charges. Musharraf had shifted the responsibility of the alert on the National Accountability Bureau (NAB), allegedly set up to fight corruption among public officials and politicians. But just that morning, Federal Minister for Information and Broadcasting Shaikh Rasheed Ahmed had delivered a cold warning from the general, “Benazir will be arrested the moment she lands in Pakistan.”

Coincidentally, the same day that the Interpol alert was issued, I heard Benazir at a public forum in Washington, DC. As I reiterated the threat conveyed by Musharraf’s information minister to Benazir and asked her what she planned to do about it, she seized on the chance to criticize Musharraf and declare that “such tactics will not stop me from returning to Pakistan to bring democracy.”