The dilemma of leadership
By Andleeb Abbas
TOO many ‘leaders’ spoil a country. That is what the new political soap opera serial on the media is displaying. With every episode ending in the suspense question of ‘who will do what to whom’, the show has revealed some interesting aspects of the leadership styles of the major actors in this action-packed drama.
Leadership by desperation: Adopted by Musharraf, this requires one to be shamelessly oblivious of the pressure in the buy-time, buy-people style. Silence can be interpreted more than just consent — a revelation made by the president’s latest political posture of disappearing from the limelight and playing the predictably desperate game of conflict and conspiracy. The philosophy of the president seems to be that if you cannot hoard power yourself, try to dilute the power of your opponents. The best way of doing so is by fragmenting the cohesion of the power brokers.
In this case, considering the election results, it had to be the PPP or the PML-N. With a history of conciliation and reconciliation with the PPP, it was but natural to play on common interests and goals and make it look like a win-win for the two of them. In this context, the appointment of Rehman Malik as interior advisor and Salman Taseer as Punjab governor is proof that the PPP will tolerate him as long as it serves their interest.
Thus Musharraf’s style of leadership believes in team-breaking rather than team-building.
Leadership by default: The PPP philosophy is based on collaboration and cohabitation with all who would go along with ‘their’ agenda. The agenda, of course, is driven by Asif Zardari, PPP leader by default. Zardari, given an almost unimaginable opportunity of ruling the country by the untimely death of his wife, has made the most of it.
He has a past riddled with controversy and corruption. Titled as Mr 10 Per Cent earlier on, he has faced several corruption cases. The deal struck between Benazir Bhutto and Musharraf was mainly based on the NRO which has over a period of time cancelled all cases against Zardari.
So with Mr Musharraf it is a mutual corruption-condoning agreement which led to using the post-PCO judiciary for the dutiful waiving of all conditions which did not suit Messrs Musharraf and Zardari, whether it was the graduation condition for contesting elections or making the illegal PCO legal for the president.
Zardari has a rather loud and obvious leadership posture. His melodramatic reading of Benazir Bhutto’s will was so exaggerated that most people thought it was more fiction than reality.
His abrupt chumminess with the MQM was almost too breezy to be taken seriously. His mysterious departure to Dubai and London and holding of long parleys have given a lot of material to the media to keep viewers hanging on.
However, all his high-sounding declarations have been found to be short on substance and consistency. These actions show his political immaturity, as he seems to have been trying to play too many cards at the same time; in the end it is his impatience to hog all what is suitable for him which will be his eventual undoing.
Leaders who change their statements and stance chameleon style are bound to lose their credibility.
Leadership by Emotion: Nawaz Sharif, on the other hand, has been capitalising on anti-president and pro-chief justice public sentiments. The fact that he shares with Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry a common history of taking on Musharraf and then being punished by him for it, is at the moment in his favour. He has sensed that the judges’ restoration issue has given him a kind of popularity that he would not have dreamt of when he came back to the country and any deviation from it will make him fall into the same category as Musharraf and Zardari.
This is an ideal opportunity for him to differentiate himself from the lot. His interest in restoring the judges also rests on the hope that in return for this favour he may be able to get Musharraf’s third-time premiership restriction waived.
However, a style based on personal vendetta rather than public interest is always vulnerable to reverting to the older pattern of failing to rise above selfish designs when it comes to using the same ground rules for one’s own performance.
His real test of leadership will come if he has to take on the PPP as the latter becomes more and more inclined towards the PCO judiciary.
At the moment, the protest by his party against the PPP’s politically compromising behaviour is muted.
But as the intentions of the PPP become obvious, Mr Sharif will have to prove that his disengagement from the power centre was not just a political ruse to pacify the public, but an actual principled stance designed to prove that he will not compromise on commitments.
Effective leaders need to possess the three ‘C’s, i.e. clarity, courage and commitment. Clarity of vision, of purpose, of stance, of actions is what sets the path for others to follow.
Unfortunately, the game played by most of our leaders is to create confusion, ambiguity and chaos, where they leave the public guessing about their next move. This gives rise to uncertainty, gossip and speculation, eroding confidence in the future of the country.
Another leadership requirement is the courage to uphold all that is true and to have no hesitation in sacrificing personal interests for the public good. Unfortunately, our leaders lack the moral courage to stand foreign and personal pressure and often give in to the temptation of going for a quick fix even if it means sacrificing the national interest.
A leader true to his commitments is one who honours expectations and fulfils all claims made to the public. Commitment, as interpreted by our leaders, is temporary statement-mongering, where the memory of our leaders is so short that they are consistently denying, degrading and dismissing anything they had promised during their frenzied political campaigning.
Without clarity, courage and commitment we will always have leaders going through the political revolving door, where they enter from one side and exit from the other, only to enter again.
Unless the complete exit of all morally handicapped characters is ensured by the public, the drama of finding true leaders will continue to have a tragic ending.
The writer is a consultant and CEO of FranklinCovey.
andleeb@franklincoveysouthasia.com


A moment of your time, please
By Irfan Malik
MY admiration for Mr Asif Zardari is such that mere adjectives cannot convey the esteem in which I hold the gentleman. ‘Superlative’ comes to mind but that is too trifling a tag and as such recourse must be made to a more detailed exposition.
Look at the facts. He is not the prime minister, not an elected representative even, yet he rightly calls all the shots in a democracy I would gladly shower with rose petals if it would only sit still for a minute. Nor to my knowledge is he a military dictator but his absolute power is beyond doubt, as it should be. I could be wrong of course.
The last time I checked he wasn’t sporting epaulettes but then nobody informs me of the latest developments. If there is one person who must be kept out of the loop come what may, rest assured that yours truly will be the popular choice, for reasons I fully appreciate.
Unless I’m mistaken, Mr Zardari has now changed time as we knew it and that just goes to show the kind of superman he is. Could you and I, acting in concert no less, pull off something so momentous? Never, not in a million years.
But it is kids’ stuff for the great man. And there you have it, the adjective. Knew it would come to me sooner or later.
Much as I defer to Mr Zardari’s judgement in all things past, present and future, as all right-minded people should, this recent time travelling has thrown my routine into a bit of a tizzy, I am sorry to report. The problem is that my life, such as it is, revolves largely round dogs and they have their own internal clocks, as it were.
Daylight saving time passes by them like the idle wind which, like Brutus and Bertie Wooster, they respect not.
This means that the pawing of the chest and licking of the face starts not at 5.30 in the morning but an hour ‘later’ at 6.30. And that, frankly, throws my whole day out of kilter. Pottering in the morning without let or hindrance is the cornerstone of my domestic policy, and waking up an hour late seriously cramps my style. I am perpetually in a rush from that point onwards, and dashing and pottering are mutually exclusive, as you can well imagine.
Getting to work on time is now even more of an uphill battle and could well result in my getting the sack. Set the alarm on the clock, you say? That’s out of the question. Much of my youth was lived at the pace that kills and I still start at sudden noises even when fully conscious.
An alarm clock going off next to my skull during a moment of slumber would permanently unhinge whatever little remains of my brain. I prefer the canine wake-up method, despite the moisture.
Matters are further complicated by the wife’s steadfast refusal to switch to Zardari time. All the clocks in the house save mine are still set at GMT+5. The maasi, a force to be reckoned with, has somehow been convinced she must arrive at 11 (by my watch and no doubts hers too) instead of 10am so that the sanctity of ‘real time’ is not violated. In this inflexible if not irrational set-up, what possible chance can I, a mere footnote in the home, ever have of voicing even a murmur of dissent?
Perhaps I wouldn’t mind it so much if mealtimes weren’t such a mess. Dinner now is at 10pm, which is when I like to start reading preparatory to going to sleep. The dogs meanwhile insist they be taken for their final airing at 10.30. Three months of this and I will be reduced to a shell of my former self, which wasn’t anything to write home about but stood me in good stead nonetheless.
The place to live, the helpmeet is adamant, is not Karachi but Kot Ghulam Mohammad which is somewhere in Sindh but I know not where precisely. The people there have their priorities right, I have come to learn, as evidenced by their outright refusal to move the clock forward. The majority view voiced by one person in my human household of two is that if there were more people in Pakistan like the sturdy souls of Kot Ghulam Mohammad, the country would be a finer place to live in. Authority would totter as revolution came loping round the corner with a rawhide bone in its mouth.
Which brings us to another thing. Correct me if I’m wrong but conserving electricity is the whole point of this daylight saving business, is it not? Now I’m not an energy expert, never have been and will probably carry that deep, dark stigma with me to the grave. Still, a man can ask a couple of questions. Why are street lights being switched on in parts of Karachi at the old time for sunset or thereabouts? Street lamps blazing forth at 8pm makes no sense under Zardari time. Why are Jahangir Kothari Parade and Bagh-i-Ibne Qasim lit up by a platoon of floodlights at six in the morning? What’s going on in there all night and why aren’t I invited?
Though never feted for my mental prowess, and understandably so, it seems to me that the basics are being ignored. Maybe it’s criminal negligence, or sheer stupidity perhaps. I don’t know, nobody tells me anything.
imalik@dawn.com


