IN my column in this space last week, I had expressed my puzzlement over the phenomenon of large numbers of educated, seemingly intelligent Pakistanis supporting military dictatorship over democracy.

Since writing it, I met Shaukat Aziz, our ex-prime minister who is presently living in London. After our conversation, many pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place. As he insisted that the interview was to be off the record, I am professionally bound not to quote him. But I am allowed to say that I have seldom met anybody as complacent and self-satisfied as he is.

After eight years of being part of a government under which Pakistan has witnessed a rapidly deteriorating security environment, a chronic shortfall in energy, and a crushing increase in the price of wheat, one would have expected some expression of remorse. Not a bit of it. Shaukat Aziz launched into a long, self-congratulatory speech in response to every question.

While defending military rule, the well-off generally point to the stability the army brings, and the corresponding increase in Gross Domestic Product. They leave out the fact that little of this enhanced national wealth trickles down to the vast majority of people, especially those in the rural areas.

The truth is that those in favour of martial law are quite happy with the status quo. This is why around a third of all Pakistanis continue to live below the poverty line on less than a dollar a day. And apart from a tiny minority that lives in great luxury, the others are struggling to make ends meet.

Under a democracy, there is at least an attempt to redistribute wealth, not for any altruistic reasons, but simply because politicians need votes. And voters are inclined to support those parties they believe are more capable of making their lives a bit better. Thus, they will vote for parties who create more jobs, open more schools, colleges and hospitals, and so on.

Of course, popular election slogans do not always translate into policies and action. But politicians who do not deliver are in trouble when they next face the electorate. Or they would be, were the army not to interrupt the weeding out process whenever the top general feels like it.

Elitists who despise democracy say the country’s high rate of illiteracy makes it impossible for the masses to exercise their freedom of choice judiciously. This argument overlooks the fact that when India launched its highly successful democracy as a sovereign nation, its people were even less literate than Pakistanis today.

More importantly, these apologists for military rule should ask what so many dictators have done to increase the level of literacy beyond talking about it. While Musharraf has pumped in lots of money into higher education with questionable results, state schools still suffer from neglect. A visit to these pathetic, run-down institutions, even in the cities, is enough to make you weep.

The point here is that a ramshackle educational system where the majority is educated ensures that the children of the elite will have no competition. An expensive, English-language private education gives kids from rich families a huge edge in the job market. So clearly, there is no incentive for the well-placed to improve the state system.

Thus, the rich will continue to support any leader who will maintain the status quo, and if that leader happens to be a general, so be it. Since Zia’s days, the number of madressahs has proliferated, and despite Musharraf’s promises, the vast majority of them are producing armies of young men unqualified for employment. This, too, would have suited the elite, had it not been for the uncomfortable fact that this kind of education is raising the level of religious extremism and violence in the country.

Around three years ago, many commercial banks in Pakistan began giving loans for cars at fairly low interest rates. This encouraged thousands of people across Pakistan to buy cars for the first time in their lives. This, in turn, brought many cars on the roads, producing traffic jams in every city.

Interestingly, many of those who have taken cars for granted their whole lives began grumbling. Instead of demanding wider roads and better traffic management, they carped about the banking policy that had made cheap car loans available. In brief, they resented that the middle-class were suddenly driving in cars. I was reminded of my 88-year old father-in-law who, caught in a traffic jam on England’s M4, was overheard muttering: “They should only issue driving licences to Oxbridge graduates.”

What the smug residents of Pakistan’s Defence Societies and other affluent areas do not realise is that unless they are willing to share the national cake with the poor, it will be snatched away from them. As we saw in the aftermath of Benazir Bhutto’s assassination, there is great anger just below the surface. The burning of cars, banks and symbols of the state was just a reminder that pushed beyond a certain point, the wretched of this country are capable of great violence.

So while the wealthy rationalise their support for dictatorship by arguing that politicians are too corrupt and inept to run the country, the sub-text is that they are happy with the status quo and do not want it to change. Obviously, any redistribution of national resources would mean a smaller share for the haves.

If, as junior partners to the army, they can manage to keep their privileges, why should they rock the boat? Any political system based on the will of the majority is bound to have some redistributive impact. The reason so many millions of Pakistanis remember the first Bhutto era with nostalgia is that it saw many major projects launched. Nationalisation created many more jobs. While the sophisticated may argue that this was an economic disaster, the poor have a diametrically opposite view.

The wheat crisis does not affect the wealthy. Nor does the power shortage, unless their factories come to a halt. They all have generators to run their lights and their air-conditioners. But all these problems, created by the incompetence of the Musharraf/Chaudhry combine, directly affect the poor.

On Feb 18, they will punish their tormentors, and vote a popular government into power. If the army and its camp-followers allow them to do so, that is.