Coriolanus approximates the tragic heroes of an ancient Greek drama, a great man who is brought low by his hubris. Overriding egoism can only terminate in desolation, as Plato said. Such an ego prevents Musharraf from developing an exit strategy. He is convinced of his indispensability.
Musharraf, Pakistan’s Coriolanus? —Ahmad Faruqui
It is time for Musharraf to see the light and moderate his stance on the uniform. Pakistan’s national interest is best conceptualised and served by popularly elected civilians, not by a modern Coriolanus. Unless strong civilian institutions can be allowed to develop, Pakistan will continue to be ruled by strong men whose lives echo those of history’s tragic characters
General Musharraf would have retired from service three years after his appointment as army chief in October 1998 had it not been for his ‘victory’ in Kargil in the spring of 1999. In any other country, such a misadventure would have resulted in premature retirement. In Pakistan, it propelled him instead — a few months later — instead into the top job.
He was welcomed at home by a nation weary of ineffective and corrupt democratic leaders but condemned internationally for deposing an elected government. This duality reversed itself after September 11, 2001. His bold response to the tragedy solidified his position in the West just as surely as it began to create domestic disenchantment with his rule.
Three and a half years later, he remains the darling of the West, which continues to shower him with accolades and contributes billions of dollars of financial and economic assistance to his government. At home, he continues to fight a crisis of legitimacy, brought on nominally by his ‘volte face’ on the uniform issue.
Musharraf’s domestic crisis is exacerbated by his unwillingness to share power with any independent civilian group. He displays no signs of exiting the stage. By overstaying his welcome, he has alienated himself from the liberal segments of Pakistani society, his battle call for enlightened moderation notwithstanding. His close affiliation with the foreign policy of the Bush administration, which causes him to pursue the counter-insurgency campaign in Waziristan, has alienated the conservative segments.
To justify his policies, Musharraf has invoked national interest as if it were his exclusive preserve. He has argued that he saved the country from ruin and asserted that without him and his uniform, the country would have become a failed state. He has also claimed to have done more for democracy than any prior leader. The paradox is that the more authority he claims, the less power he wields. What worked for him on the battlefield has failed him in politics.
Of course, there is a silver lining to the dark cloud. The positive developments on the macroeconomic front — brought on largely by US-sponsored economic aid and private investments from the Gulf region — have won over certain segments of society to him. Reasonably confident about his place in history, the general has begun working on his memoirs.
He has also created a presidential website to showcase his achievements. The site also acts as a portal for the Government of Pakistan, confirming that he is not only the head of state but also the head of government in addition to being the army chief. Shahid Javed Burki, a not-so-secret admirer of prior military rulers, presents a flattering account of Musharraf’s first five years in office in a forthcoming book.
General Musharraf’s epic journey reminds one of that of Coriolanus, a military and political leader of ancient Rome whose career is described by the Greek historian Plutarch in his Lives. Born Caius Marcius into a rich and famous family, he earned the title Coriolanus after a major victory at Corioli in 493 BC against the Volscians, a neighbouring tribe of Rome.
Around the year 1600, William Shakespeare drew upon Plutarch’s history to dramatise the life of Coriolanus. TS Eliot considered this play to be Shakespeare’s finest tragedy yet other critics rank it below Hamlet, King Lear, Macbeth, and Othello. Coriolanus, as a proud general, is the least sympathetic protagonist among Shakespeare’s tragic figures. This may be the reason for the mixed appraisal of the play.
However, it has more contemporary relevance than anything else in the bard’s repertoire, since it is embodies a long-running debate on autocracy versus democracy. Shakespeare depicts a society undergoing tumultuous change, struggling to adjust to a new form of government. Rome had earlier been ruled by a king. The people had had no independent voice. Now, in the early years of the republic, they participated in the election of consuls. Tribunes, representing their interests, defended them against abuses of power. In many ways, the situation resembled today’s Pakistan, a young republic struggling to define its body politic after centuries of imperial rule.
One of the play’s main characters, an aristocrat named Menenius, compares the state to a human body in which different classes of society represent various organs. The aristocrats (i.e. the landowning classes) are the “belly” and the lower-class commoners the “toe”. Coriolanus, as a fierce, noble and proud military leader, represents the “arms” of the Roman state.
General Coriolanus dominates the play, just as General Musharraf dominates Pakistan’s political stage. Both are men of action whose physical strength and courage are legendary. Coriolanus is perhaps the greatest warrior of his age. It is said that Musharraf’s personal heroism inspires other soldiers and men willingly follow him into battle. Like Shakespeare’s Coriolanus, he is not a natural leader.
In the denouement of Shakespeare’s play, after failing to persuade Romans to align themselves with his rule, Coriolanus turns against Rome and is banished. In the ultimate irony, he joins the Volscians and makes war on Rome. His mother, however, persuades him to call off the attack. This enrages the Volscians under Aufidius so much that they kill him. To paraphrase Aufidius, the virtues of war had become the vices of peace for the man on horseback. Dismounted, he was a sorry creature.
Coriolanus approximates the tragic heroes of an ancient Greek drama, a great man who is brought low by his hubris. Overriding egoism can only terminate in desolation, as Plato said. Such an ego prevents Musharraf from developing an exit strategy. He is convinced of his indispensability.
Shakespeare endues his central character with a deeper flaw in the form of a pathological dependency upon his mother. As she reminds him in two pivotal scenes, he is her creation. In the end, Coriolanus cannot simply sever himself from the body politic of his motherland, for his identity depends upon his mother’s esteem.
General Musharraf is a creature of the army — his “mother”. The corps commanders, symbolising this mother, lurk in the background and appear on stage whenever major decisions are being made. In the end, they were the ones who prevailed upon Musharraf to change his mind about the uniform.
It is time for Musharraf to see the light and moderate his stance on the uniform. Pakistan’s national interest is best conceptualised and served by popularly elected civilians, not by a modern Coriolanus. Unless strong civilian institutions can be allowed to develop, Pakistan will continue to be ruled by strong men whose lives echo those of history’s tragic characters.
Dr Ahmad Faruqui is an economist and author of Rethinking the National Security of Pakistan. He can be reached at faruqui@pacbell.net |
