Some of this is rooted in the politics that began in the mid-’80s in Pakistan, under General Zia. He was the second military dictator in Pakistan to bring in “democracy” without civil control, Ayub having tried a version of it in the ’60s. First, Zia was to hold elections without political parties and then confer on his “elected” prime minister, the late Mohammed Khan Junejo, many powers, but none on his foreign, security, Kashmir and India policies.

The reason this peculiar division of powers survived Zia was that he co-opted in it the one element that commanded real power in Pakistan, a trinity of the army, the ISI and the presidency, then specially empowered by what was called the 9th Amendment, which gave total unquestioned power to sack elected governments. Sure enough Zia had brought in that amendment as a welcome gift to Junejo’s cabinet. It was then that Aitzaz Ahsan, always one of the brightest and bravest stars of Pakistan’s democracy movement, had described it as a “bonsai” democracy. A bonsai, he said, that would not be allowed to grow deep roots or large branches, but would be displayed in a corner to please the Americans. The reason this survived the democratic catharsis that followed Zia’s death, however, was that he had convinced the trinity that politicians were too unreliable to be trusted with Pakistan’s supreme national interest. Broadly, this was defined as control over foreign and security policies, armed forces and nuclear weapons. Dovetailed into this was the Kashmir policy. After Zia, President Ghulam Ishaque Khan, a former bureaucrat, became the custodian of this legacy. He did sometimes describe himself as the keeper of his nation’s family silver. He used the same argument, the unreliability of the political class, to dismiss elected prime ministers thrice (Benazir Bhutto in August 1990 and Nawaz Sharif twice, in April and July 1993). Subsequently, Musharraf used the same argument to depose and jail and exile Nawaz Sharif.

In fact it was during these many prime ministerial sackings and mid-term elections in 1993 that I once asked a prominent Pakistani thinker when it would be that an elected government in Pakistan acquires real control over its foreign, Kashmir and India policies and its nuclear weapons. His answer was quite brilliant: when three army chiefs have retired and gone home to play golf, and when two elected governments have completed their full terms without being dismissed. The truth is, in the past 35 years, only two chiefs have retired to go home at the end of their full terms. But no elected government has lasted a full term. Worse, no Pakistani election has been held under an incumbent government. It’s always been held either under a military dictator, or a caretaker under him, or the Establishment trinity. It is for all these reasons that the latest change is so significant, and intriguing.

Both, the significance and the mystery, arise from the manner of Musharraf’s departure. Over six decades a clear pattern has emerged in the way a Pakistani dictator, whether military or civil, goes. He is either killed or jailed, or he fights an unsuccessful war against India and goes in disgrace, usually into exile. In his departure, Musharraf has bucked that trend, a first for a dictator in Pakistan’s history. He has been removed through an unstoppable democratic movement, howsoever imperfect. As a consequence, he remains alive, free and in his own country. But one other reason it has turned out this way is that the army has allowed the civilians to remove him, while at the same time ensuring his liberty and safety. Under Kiyani, the Pakistani army has earned wide appreciation for staying out of politics. What is not clear, however, is whether it has also agreed to cede to the political class the control over those three issues, foreign and Kashmir policies, and nuclear weapons, Ghulam Ishaque Khan’s “family silver”.

If you ask South Block, you will hear a note of disappointment. That comes from early evidence of an increased effort at infiltrating militants just before the passes close, something that used to happen routinely until the LoC ceasefire and a broader thaw came into effect almost five years ago. Is the ISI merely taking advantage of the current confusion and a wobbly centre of gravity in the Pakistani power structure, or could it be that Kiyani’s army believes while Musharraf may have given over power to the civilians, it is business as usual on Kashmir, India and the larger foreign policy? The two meetings Kiyani has had with the American brass, one in Kabul and the other aboard USS Abraham Lincoln, are intriguing. Indications from Pakistani media are not really clear. Was he carrying out assignments given to him by his prime minister? Or was he acting in the usual, “business-as-usual” way, reassuring the Americans as his predecessors might have done, at the first sign of a political change?

History does not change course so readily, and old habits do not die so fast. That is why, while from all evidence Kiyani and his army are not dabbling in day-to-day politics now, the jury is still out on whether they have accepted the inevitability of having to allow a “civilianisation” of the real power structure, or if they would rather prefer the creation of another bonsai.

Surely, the political class in Pakistan is not helping its cause. This coalition of blood-enemies was only united because of a common enemy, Musharraf, and once he was gone, they must go their own ways too. It is also true that they are not really to blame for the last election’s split verdict. It was caused by forces beyond their control, and the usual suspects. Musharraf first broke Nawaz’s party and disqualified him from contesting (while he was in exile) and then somebody got rid of Benazir. All this ensured a split verdict which is what he probably wanted. He, however, underestimated the strength of democratic yearning among his people.

But, with Nawaz and Zardari fighting now, it is a matter of time before this government falls, or begins to look ineffective. This is the reason this turn in Pakistan politics is so intriguing. Which way it goes will depend on two qualities not yet revealed to us: Kiyani’s commitment to democracy despite its chaos, and some statesmanship and sense of responsibility from the political class.

sg@expressindia.com