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It is a supreme irony that military interventions are dependent on their elected successors for their place in history. It seems to me that short interventions have a chance of avoiding the arrogance and corruption of spirit that inevitably sinks long ones
Pakistan has emerged from another long period of direct and indirect military rule to a very uncertain future. Its former other half, Bangladesh, is about to emerge from a short period of indirect military rule, also into an uncertain future. That is about the only similarity I can think of these days between two countries that used to be one.
In contrast to its previous military interludes, the Bangladeshi military this time chose what I have called the "Turkish Model" of military intervention, the pattern established by the Turkish army in three different coups. The Bangladesh army, averse to prolonged direct rule after its previous times in power, sought immediate help from civil society by appointing a technocratic civilian government to run day-to-day affairs and pledged to stay in power for two years only while it reformed politics and set things right for sustainable democracy.
In contrast, the Pakistan army chose to replicate its traditional model of intervention — root and branch reform over a long period. The results, we all know, were no different than before, and no better.
Does either the long or the short form of military intervention work? Some would contend that the root and branch form succeeded in Chile, but this is tenuous given the enormous human cost.
Almost always, it seems, militaries that intervene with some grand plan of reform become so intent on preserving their power and seeking legitimacy that they forget the agenda that they came to power to implement. The Turkish model is often thought to be more successful because it is short with a more limited agenda of reform, but if that is so, why did the Turkish military have to intervene so often; did it create its own self-fulfilling prophecy? Why did the Mauritanian military take over again after giving government back to civilians only a year earlier, or the Thai people again take to the streets against the present government? To have to repeat interventions time after time hardly seems a definition of success.
And now the latest South Asian attempt at a Turkish model intervention, in Bangladesh, appears to be petering out without having accomplished what it set out to do — reform Bangladeshi political culture so that military intervention would never again be necessary — that is stop the vicious circle that interventions themselves seem to create. Many of us who wish the country nothing but the best feel great disappointment that more has not been done by the interim government that took over in January 2007.
But 22 months later, it all appears to be for nought. The two main political parties, with deep vested interests in the status quo, appear to have gambled that the new interim government meant what is said, that it would remain in power for only two years and, in effect, called its bluff. The parties knew that they could outwait this government if it stuck to that pledge.
What they saw was a political vacuum in the middle of the body politic, which they would own (even with their leaders in jail) unless it was filled by someone else. There were no leaders of civil society, even though encouraged by the government, who stepped up to do so. The parties refused to jettison their leaders (and the leaders refused to be jettisoned), and they declined to democratise, in effect to give up their old way of life.
Concomitant with political party reform, the interim government set out to extirpate the corruption that had fuelled the poisonous political culture. This objective was overwhelmingly supported by the public and had been, perhaps, the primary motivation of a large segment of the army officer corps for intervention. The perception is that this has also been a failure because, except for a very few, most of those arrested are out of jail on bail and/or appeal. However, a number of those charged with corruption have been indicted, and a few have been convicted.
In other words, an understaffed and under-resourced anti-corruption commission, though facing a daunting forensic task of proving the corruption of hundreds in courts that have been filled for years with crony judges appointed by the two political leaders, has made a brave start. As in most of the reforms that the interim government began, the follow up by the next elected government will make or break the anti-corruption effort. One thing that might persuade the elected government to pursue this with some vigour is that it retains a large measure of public support.
In fact, defenders of the interim government's performance describe the anti-corruption effort as an example and a symbol that it has set in motion a number of reforms that can, if not strangled in their cradle by the elected government that is to follow, slowly change the mindset and modify the behaviour of political actors. The foundation has been laid, they say, that over time can change the poisonous political culture into a benign one, if it is nurtured and protected by the governments that follow, and especially the one to be elected in December of this year.
It is a supreme irony that military interventions are dependent on their elected successors for their place in history. It seems to me that short interventions have a chance of avoiding the arrogance and corruption of spirit that inevitably sinks long ones, but even they cannot succeed if they don't build for their elected successors the foundations of institutions that promote and reward democratic behaviour and punish those who transgress democratic norms.
Those who see the accomplishments of this short-term intervention as a glass half full point to its other achievements as starting blocks for the full-throated reform that is needed if Bangladesh is to come out of the spiral of poison politics, appalling governance, and vicious circles of military intervention.
A completely independent election commission has reregistered 80 million voters with photo ID cards. At least the coming election is almost certain to be fair, and retaining the independence of the commission in the next government will be a highly visible sign of its intentions. The interim government has passed a law that establishes a commission, which includes political party leaders and civil society to recommend high court judges; if this works, it will be a huge step to clean up over time the judiciary that is riddled with political cronies and re-establish the rule of law. An independent civil service commission has been established to oversee the use of the bureaucracy and prevent its misuse.
There are other proposals on the drawing boards or under discussion. Will those already in place, as well as those planned, work?
Only time will tell, and only Sheikh Hasina or Begum Zia will provide insight on whether these reforms should be taken seriously. The history of military interventions as well as the history of Bangladeshi political parties and their leaders does not lend much confidence. Yet it may be that the groundwork is there if they want to use it, and the attitude of the public and civil society will be a large determinant of that.
Certainly, whichever lady becomes the next prime minister will hear much from friendly governments and the rest of us about the virtue of necessary and still-fragile reform. For those of us who have despaired as this interim government seemed to give way to the parties and let the bad guys off after such a good start, whose every effort of the past few months seemed to be stalled or deflected to take account of reality, Yogi Berra's words may hold some hope.
"It ain't over till it's over," he said famously, and in the case of Bangladesh, it won't be over until we hear the tune one of these ladies will sing.
William B Milam is a senior policy scholar at the Woodrow Wilson Centre in Washington and a former US Ambassador to Pakistan and Bangladesh
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