The state of emergency in Pakistan was justified in the name of terrorism and a "politicised" judiciary. Its real roots, though, lie in a dictator's fear, writes Graham Usher from Islamabad On 3 November -- for the second time in eight years -- General Pervez Musharraf suspended Pakistan's constitution. He sacked the chief justice, replaced the superior courts, jammed private TV channels and placed curbs on what had been a relatively independent media. "It's martial law," ran a newspaper headline the next day. And it is. Pakistanis are living under a system of state repression unseen since the reign of the pro-American, pro-Islamist dictator Zia-ul-Haq (1977-88). What brought the clampdown -- just 12 days before Musharraf was to step down as army chief and become a civilian president? In an edgy, menacing televised address he gave two reasons. One was a rise in Islamic militancy in northwest Pakistan that has seen territory captured by pro-Taliban militants and hundreds of soldiers killed. "Extremists are taking the writ of the government in their hands, trying to impose their backward, intolerant version of Islam on moderate people," he said. The second was what Musharraf called a "hostile" judiciary, ruling against government policies from the privatisation of state firms to the army's illegal "disappearance" of dissidents under the so-called "war on terror". The "clash with the judiciary must end," he said. "We have to create harmony among the judiciary, legislature and executive". Musharraf was lying. True, Pakistan is in thrall to a Talibanisation process unseen since Afghanistan circa 1996, with Islamic militants controlling borderlands and even settled areas like Swat in the North West Frontier Province. But there have been Islamic insurgencies in these areas since July, when commandos prised Islamabad's Red Mosque from the grip of pro-Taliban clerics. After that battle -- in which 100 people were killed -- Musharraf explicitly ruled out a state of emergency. Similarly there has been an "activist" judiciary since the chief justice, Iftikhar Mohamed Chaudhry, was restored to office in July. Musharraf had tried to sack him, ostensibly for "misconduct", but actually because he might have struck down Musharraf's desire to be president for a second term. But throughout the crisis, Musharraf had assured all, including Washington, that a state of emergency was not on the table. What drew Musharraf's hand was a forewarning that the Supreme Court was about to rule his presidential election win in October illegal. "The constitution is clear and the bench knew it. No person can contest political office while in military service," said Aitzaz Ahsan, counsel for the petitioners against the president. He -- like hundreds of other lawyers -- was arrested within minutes of the emergency being declared. Musharraf had three choices. He could retire. He could await the verdict and then impose martial law, making it brazen that it was a coup against the judiciary, or he could pre-empt judgement, coating the suspension of the rule of law in a sugar of "Islamic militancy" and a "politicised judiciary". But it is an independent judiciary and those who support it are the targets, not the militants. On 4 November, 213 soldiers captured in August near the Afghan border were freed by Baitullah Mahsud, a Taliban commander. In exchange, the army released 28 militants, including four convicted of planning suicide attacks. Despite martial law, Taliban spokesmen said the government had ceded "most" of their demands. Pakistan's secular civil society is also being targeted. On the day the militants were released police laid siege to Pakistan's Human Rights Commission in Lahore, arresting 53 workers. One was the internationally renowned advocate Asma Jahangir. "The president has lost his marbles," she said. "To curb 'terrorism', he is clamping down on the press and the judiciary while offering ceasefires and negotiations with terrorists". Is there any reverse from this descent? Analysts see three scenarios, two dark and the other unlikely. Supported by many in Musharraf's ruling Muslim League Party -- as well as by Pakistan's powerful intelligence heads -- the first urges the General to maintain martial law "as long as is necessary" and postpone elections scheduled for January 2008. Former prime minister Benazir Bhutto touts the second scenario, though it has been scripted in Washington and London. Fearful of losing their "most allied of allies" in the "war on terror" these capitals are offering Musharraf a trade. He should keep the emergency short and hold to his pledges to step down as army chief and have elections in January. In return the US, UK and Bhutto will pass over his purge of the judiciary so that a supine Supreme Court can endorse his presidency. "With corruption cases still looming, Benazir has no more liking for independent judges than Musharraf. And the Americans have bought the line that an activist judiciary in Pakistan is more of a hindrance than a help," says one observer. The lawyers argue a third way -- mass protests to see the judiciary and constitution restored, Musharraf out of office and the army out of politics. They hope that their so far small demonstrations will mushroom into the kind of campaign that, in July, saw Musharraf retreat and Chaudhry return. But it's a tougher fight this time round. The state is primed against them, the media is gagged and the opposition parties are ham-strung by repression, fear, division and reticence. Above all, the masses are mute. "The lawyers need support,' says analyst Tarik Fatemi. "They are not just fighting for the judiciary but for the soul of Pakistan: are we ever to become a democracy grounded on law or remain a banana republic?" (see p.10)
