But, down at the PTV building, there were just a few bored men in khaki standing around, smoking. They came to attention and looked fierce for our television camera, then relaxed when we switched off the lights. It wasn't a coup. It was the dismissal of Mian Nawaz Sharif by President Ghulam Ishaq Khan in April of 1993, completely legal under Article 52b of the Pakistan Constitution. And the president knew from experience to take the TV station first, before telling the world about the changes. Of course, Nawaz soon managed to overturn his sacking in the Supreme Court only to fall once again, with Ishaq Khan in tow, in July. Fresh elections three months later brought BenazirBhutto to power for a second time. We all remember how she was subsequently dismissed in 1996 by her former friend and confidante, President Farooq Leghari, again as allowed under the constitution.

Since the death of Zia-ul Haq in 1988, Pakistan has had 10 changes of Prime Minister, five army chiefs, four presidents and a parade of political ghouls masquerading as "caretaker ministers" in various shortlived governments. That's not instability. That's farce, only it isn't funny.

Nawaz Sharif thought he was ending the perpetual turmoil when he used his massive strength in parliament in 1997 to remove from the constitution the president's right to dismiss him. No doubt, similar ideas crossed his mind when he managed to sideline the Supreme court and sack the last chief of army staff, General Jehangir Karamat, last year.

What has just happened in Pakistan was not unexpected. It's yet another symptom of the inability of the establishment to tolerate the excesses of a political class that they themselves havespawned and inspired by their corruption and abuse of authority. Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif are the products of the system, not its architects. If anyone is to blame for the mess that Pakistan is in today, it is Zia-ul Haq, Ghulam Ishaq Khan, and the thousands of nameless cheerleaders and co-conspirators in the military and bureaucratic elite. Busi-ness leaders too are among the first to call for a firm hand from the "fauj" when the economy or their lavish perks are threatened by the reckless behaviour of a Nawaz or a Benazir. And then there are the liberals -- Pakistan's unique chattering classes.

In truth, these are the people that it is hardest to forgive. They claim to be democrats, appalled by the prospect of military or theocratic rule. They pound their chests, spill their whisky and proclaim, "Never again!", when you mention the dark years of Zia's rule. But in private, they lobby generals and dictators' sons at dinner parties and deplore the depravity of the democrat of the day, dropping broadhints as they pour the booze. These people too must share in the blame for the latest attempt to use a blunt instrument to perform surgery on the political system in Pakistan.

Don't think there are any saints in this scenario. Nawaz Sharif was doing real damage to the country and its institutions. His natural autocratic tendencies -- inherited from his former mentors in the establishment -- had overcome what I believe to be his very real desire to improve the economy and quality of life for Pakistanis. Benazir before him was also running amok just before she was dismissed. She is a woman of undoubted courage and conviction but her credibility lies in tatters because of countless overtures to the elite to take action against her enemy, Nawaz Sharif. It's not economic chaos, unemployment or declining law and order that prompt Pakistan's establishment into action. It's the threat of a rival power centre encroaching on its traditional turf. Let nothing get in the way of the venal and sanctimonious elite of theIslamic republic. Ironically, and believe me, Pakistan is a country of sublime irony, even Nawaz Sharif's attempt to bring in Sharia, Islamic law, was a threat to a supposedly devout establishment. Never mind that liberals may be right to deplore the burgeoning influence of a reactionary clergy. The traditional establishment just don't want to give up any authority to Nawaz.

"Let him win elections, let him make speeches in parliament, but he should know just how far he can go." That was shortly before his first dismissal in 1993. None of this is to say that there isn't great potential for danger in the situation in Pakistan. There is. A simmering Islamist faction in civilian and military life, buoyed by barely concealed support for Islamic militancy in Afghanistan and Kashmir, covets a central role; Pervaiz Musharraff and Jehangir Karamat before him are supposed to represent the so-called secular nationalist faction of the Pakistan army. Their deadliest enemies aren't corrupt, out-of-control democrats, theyare the Islamists -- always ready to exploit chaos and push a theocratic agenda. These are the people who tried in a sort of comic Dads' Army fashion, to kill Karamat, most of the corps commanders, Benazir and Farooq Leghari in what was laughingly described as a "coup attempt" in September of 1995. They actually bought illegal arms from dodgy drug-dealing men in the tribal areas along the Afghan border, and headed for General Headquarters in Rawalpindi to carry out their attack.

They were stopped by -- wait for it -- customs officers looking for smuggled TVs and stereos from Afghanistan. But even the most jaded conspiracy theorist was shocked by their audacity, and by implication, fanaticism. They were supposedly purged by an angry Karamat but they probably retain substantial influence. There was, before the declaration of emergency, one way to best minimize the damage. That was the release of Nawaz Sharif, with instructions that he go immediately to the National Assembly and move a motion of confidence.There was a very real chance that he might have lost such a vote. His own party, the Pakistan Muslim League, is full of his enemies, many of them of recent origin. If he could be held accountable for his behaviour by parliament, then democracy in Pakistan would have been immeasurably strengthened. Not restored to health, not after the depredations inflicted by both dictators and democrats, but at least able to move from death-bed to intensive care ward.

Today it may be time to start writing obituaries for a patient that never really had a chance.

The writer is India Correspondent of BBC