Pakistan has come a long way since it was founded, but it has further to go before it lives up to the ideals for which it was born, writes Iffat Idris On 14 August 1947, the State of Pakistan came into being -- the result of colonial Britain relinquishing its control over the Indian Subcontinent (its "jewel in the crown") and of the partition of that vast land into two independent countries, Pakistan and India. On Saturday, Pakistanis marked the anniversary of their country's independence. Fifty-seven years on, there is much cause for both celebration and reflection. The question on the minds of many Pakistanis, especially those who witnessed the birth of their nation, is whether it has fulfilled the goals and objectives of its founders. Those goals were enunciated on numerous occasions by Quaid-e-Azam Mohamed Ali Jinnah -- the man revered by Pakistanis as the father of their state. They can be summed up as: a land in which all people are safe, Islam is the religion of the land but people are free to worship as they wish, the rule of law is dominant, there is prosperity and harmony, and the rights of all are protected. Look at Pakistan today and one can only conclude that it has some way to go before it fulfils Quaid's vision. The country, nonetheless, has come far since it was founded. In its early years there were justifiable concerns about whether the fledgling state could survive, so numerous were the crises that it faced: refugees, lack of money, no administration, conflict with India over Kashmir and so on. Today, there are no such concerns. Pakistan has firmly established itself as a permanent member of the community of nations. Economically, the country remains in the developing world though some of its people are doing extremely well. While in villages, hand-pumps for water, outdoor latrines and poor electricity are commonplace, you find the cities teeming with mobile-phone users, trendy restaurants and art galleries. Pakistan has become a land with a few rich, but many, many poor. That divide between rich and poor is reflected in its human development indicators. Levels of literacy, maternal and child mortality, disease, poverty, while nowhere near the levels of some of Africa's poorest countries, are quite grim. Add to this endemic socio-cultural problems -- a society dominated by men, with strong values of honour and identity, practices like arranged child marriages that are rooted in tradition rather than religion -- and the negative impact of poverty is exacerbated. The battle in 1947 was against the Hindu majority of the Indian Subcontinent. Many Muslims (though not all) united behind the goal of a free Muslim homeland. But once established the unity quickly collapsed. Blatant discrimination by West Pakistan against its Eastern brother led in 1971 to war and the creation of an independent Bangladesh. Today's Pakistan remains riven with ethnic divisions; identification as Punjabi, Pukhtoon, Sindhi, Balochi and Muhajir often takes precedence over identification as "Pakistani". Sectarian divisions between the majority Sunni community and minority Shia are also rife. In some parts they have reached such extremes that the two communities do not even consider the other as Muslim. Not surprisingly, ethnic and sectarian hostility often becomes violent. Many of Pakistan's current social problems -- especially ethnic and sectarian violence -- are a consequence of two key traits that have characterised the country for much of its life: military rule (or lack of democracy) and hostility to India. Look back on Pakistan's rulers over the past 57 years and, with the exception of Zulfiqar Bhutto, his daughter Benazir and Nawaz Sharif, all the key names are those of military men: Ayub Khan, Yehia Khan, Zia-ul-Haq and now Pervez Musharraf -- all army chiefs who went on to become national leaders. Army rule has been the norm rather than the exception in Pakistan. Politicians, notoriously unprincipled and corrupt, must take some blame for this. But it is also a consequence of the army's determination to retain its dominant position within Pakistan, and to control key foreign policy matters. Hostility with India dates back to partition and the first war over Kashmir in 1947-48. There have been another two full wars and one "half" war since then (the half being the Kargil conflict of 1998), but Jammu and Kashmir remain disputed territory. Hostility to India drives the massive army establishment, and drove the Pakistan nuclear weapons programme. Confirmed in 1998, Pakistan's nuclear weapons capability is a source of pride for its people but a trigger for sanctions and pressure from the international community. How do these two factors -- army rule and hostility to India -- contribute to Pakistan's internal problems? Zia-ul-Haq's lack of democratic roots led him to inculcate the mullahs and seek to enforce Islamic rule. This was manifested in the form of religious madrasas and repressive social policies. It also made him follow a policy of "divide and rule", promoting the Mohajir community, for example, while suppressing the Sindhis. Once the Afghan war against the Soviet Union started, the madrasas were promoted even more because they provided the human fodder to wage jihad. After the Soviets left Afghanistan, the same Islamic foot soldiers were utilised in support of the Kashmiri insurgency against Indian rule. The side effects of tolerating these religious armed groups in Pakistan were a "drug and Kalashnikov culture" and ethnic and sectarian violence. Today, Pakistan is still ruled by an army chief, General Pervez Musharraf, albeit with the simultaneous title of president and with a nominal elected national assembly and prime minister. Democracy remains more an exercise in farce than a reality in Pakistan. The recent "transfer of power" from Prime Minister Jamali to Chaudhry Shujaat Hussein, who will soon be replaced by Prime Minister-designate Shawkat Aziz, is proof -- if any were needed -- of how artificial Pakistan's democracy is. But while President-General Musharraf is following his predecessors in preserving army rule, he has made significant efforts to reverse their other policies: sponsorship of extremist Islamic groups, tolerance of ethnic and sectarian violence and hostility to India. Many extremist groups have been banned, training camps for Kashmiri fighters have been closed down, infiltration across the Line of Control curbed and a hand of friendship extended to India. Admittedly, some of these reverses were forced on Musharraf by 9/11 and consequent US and international pressure. But the liberalism he has introduced in the media, on TV, in entertainment and dress, is homegrown. And there is a genuine realisation among many Pakistanis that the old policies were harming Pakistanis as much as India or other enemies. They are looking forward to the dividends of peace talks with India. Underway for several weeks now, after a long period of warming bilateral relations, the talks have made good progress. In their most recent round the two sides failed to agree on definitions of terrorism or Kashmir, but the atmosphere remains positive and hopeful. Not all Pakistanis share Musharraf's vision though. His policy reversals, and the subsequent crackdown on extremist forces within Pakistan, have met resistance. The tribal belt bordering Afghanistan, and widely believed to be the region where Osama Bin Laden and Al-Qaeda leaders are hiding, has been the site of civil conflict for many months. Dozens of army personnel, as well as civilians and militants, have been killed in clashes. Balochistan, Pakistan's most backward province and the site of a previous insurgency in the 1970s, could again be poised to rise up in protest against perceived exploitation by the centre. And acts of terror continue to plague Pakistan's cities. The path that President Musharraf has set Pakistan on could, if followed through, relieve at least one of the country's long- standing problems -- hostility with India and extremist Islam. But the issues posed by a lack of democracy remain. Until they are resolved, Pakistan will not be able to realise the dream of its founding fathers.
