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WHY pretend? They both know what they’re doing. Raheel and Nawaz. One’s gone emotional, the other sanctimonious and preachy. But they’re both defending turf and it makes sense — for them.
For the rest of us, well, that’s another matter altogether.
Let’s start with Raheel. Things had been going well enough. Cohabitation had split responsibilities neatly: the boys managing big-ticket items — national security, key foreign relationships and the like — and the civilians doing the grunt work on whatever else they wanted to focus on.
But memory has a habit of receding. And with returning confidence come funny ideas.
Mid-term, Nawaz had looked like he was catching his stride again. Folk had begun to wonder whether Pakistan had been saved. CPEC dollars were beginning to trickle in. Fuel prices were hovering at lows. Electricity seemed manageable. Inflation was stable.
In the end, the new playbook prevailed — decapitation was rejected, but the walking dead were left behind.
Nothing fundamental had changed, but in the game of perceptions Nawaz was beginning to look like a winner — or, at least, the ultimate survivor. That disrupted the template.
Rewind to the last PPP government. Different circumstances, but a worthy playbook was written for this era of continuity: knock ’em back once at the start, let them flail around for a while, then get them again in the home stretch.
Two well-timed blows to ensure that political capital at the start doesn’t translate into anything big and recovery midway doesn’t lead to anything dangerous.
And so it was that Zardari was pinned back soon after becoming president, Mumbai destroyed any policy initiatives and re-coronation of Iftikhar Chaudhry kept everyone occupied.
That made for civilian docility for a couple of years. But civilians are stubborn creatures. Not in any visionary or even grandiose way, just in terms of chafing under restraints.
Memogate ended the very few funny ideas the PPP may have begun to get once again. After that, it was limpness all the way to the finish line, a fate so wretched you almost — almost — felt sorry for them.
With Nawaz and his PML-N, the playbook was copied in the first phase — after all, why ditch a good idea?
But on and on — and on — went the screams of a stolen election and the wretchedness that was the dharna that even sensible folk began to wonder if the boys were crazy enough to take a good idea and kill it by doing too much.
In the end, the new playbook prevailed — decapitation was rejected, but the walking dead were left behind.
Now comes the second phase. With the legacy of the dharna receding — and with it, its chilling effect — there was again a problem. Nawaz was beginning to look prime ministerial.
Which hadn’t translated into anything big yet, but you don’t want Nawaz to think he’s got the political capital to do funny stuff. Enter the civil-mil gods from above and the gift of Panama.
For a couple of weeks, the civilian enemies tried to land a blow or two — and mostly failed. Panama had undermined Nawaz’s credibility and hurt his legitimacy, but it wasn’t translating into mortal danger.
It could have been one of those slow-burning affairs, but it’s been a while since Imran has looked like he can make good on any of his political threats. So Raheel had to do it himself.
It is a political masterstroke. Where N-Leaguers were relishing a fight with a diminished Imran, they’re instantly worried about where Raheel wants to go with this and the temperament of their boss, Nawaz.
The N-League’s mid-term confidence stands shattered and dark thoughts of survival have returned.
The playbook for this era of continuity has delivered again: hit ’em hard early, then get them again in the home stretch. A diminished civilian is a civilian who poses no threat. He’s too busy thinking about himself to concentrate on big-picture stuff.
Turn to Nawaz. His Friday speech was punchy and defiant because he’s got one solid card left: his electoral appeal.
Nothing about Panama had suggested that Nawaz was an electoral dead-man-walking. Yelp, scream, pound, complain, the electoral maths isn’t shaken by sophisticated notions of corruption and legitimacy.
So why not double down on that?
Nawaz’s speech was about two things: him and the people on one side, Imran and the anti-democrats on the other. It was ugly and miserable — and, possibly for those reasons, effective.
We can already guess what the dash to London was really about: huddling with the architects and custodians of the exotic family financial architecture to figure out what the exposure is.
And a calculated bet seems to have been made: unless the era of leaks in this digital age surfaces some records that can’t be covered up, what’s already out there won’t lead to anything damning.
So, Nawaz has asked the people to judge him not on why the family has dabbled in Panama at all, but on whether Panama and the like prove something demonstrably illegal.
You can see what Nawaz is doing. Where others have tried to raise the bar, Nawaz is arguing to be held to the existing bar — a simple but potentially effective move when wrapped in electoral populism.
Why pretend. Nawaz is in the business of winning elections, Raheel in the business of institutional dominance. Both are only defending their turf.
Who would you rather be in this mess? Raheel for sure. But Nawaz doesn’t have that choice. Nawaz is doing what Nawaz needs.
Unhappily, neither do the rest of us have a choice. All we can do is look on as turf is defended and great games are played out — all in our names.
Pakistan zindabad.
The writer is a member of staff.
Twitter: @cyalm
Published in Dawn, April 24th, 2016
