Nurturing democracy in Pakistan

The Foreign Policy Centre's Alex Bigham considers how the world sho

There are, broadly speaking, two schools of thought about what the international community should do next to help alleviate the chaos consuming Pakistan. One was emphasised by Simon Jenkins in the Guardian – that we should never seek to interfere in the internal affairs of a country, and that, as is his usual claim, we are the architect of our own misfortune. The other is being taken up by the bulk of US presidential candidates – that the US should be ready to bomb Pakistan if its nuclear sites look threatened by the Islamists, and that the UK and US should provide oversight control of Pakistan’s nuclear programme (a policy advocated by Hillary Clinton).

While I have more sympathy with the Clinton argument, both points of view are a little naïve – the US is not going to sit idly by while Islamist extremists overrun the world’s sixth most populous country armed with WMD, nor are they likely to be able to completely overturn Pakistan’s sovereignty when it comes to security issues. One of the lessons from the Iran nuclear case is that patient diplomacy, which the EU has spearheaded, combined with a carrot and stick approach can yield positive results. As the recent US intelligence report emphasised, it persuaded Iran to suspend its nuclear weapons programme in 2003. One of the great mistakes that have been made in the past in relation to Pakistan is the outside obsession with individuals over institutions. John Negroponte was guilty of this recently, in his overtures to both Musharraf and Bhutto.

With the tragic death of Benazhir Bhutto, the inevitable focus of the commentariat and policy makers has turned to the young Oxford student Bilawal Bhutto, or the tough army general, Ashfaq Kiyani. But this obsession with personalities over institutions will always leave the leadership of Pakistan vulnerable to interference and even overthrow from the 3 As – the Army, America or Allah (i.e. the Islamists). Bilawal is clearly smart, but is he ready to take on the mantle of leadership, when he has spent so little time in Pakistan and struggles to speak Urdu?

Neither outside force or even a strong leader can build a vibrant democracy. That’s not to say the international community is powerless to effect change, but it needs to take local people with them. Supporting democratic institutions, grassroots NGOs and political parties, as well as groups that advocate human rights, women’s issues and support for marginalised communities will do far more to engender a democratic culture in the long term.

The UK, in partnership with our EU allies could be doing more. While it may seem somewhat ironic these days, Westminster was the ‘mother of all parliaments’ – influencing the establishment of legislatures across the world in past centuries. It’s important that our modern foreign policy is also focussed on democracy building – and not cautioned by the problems in Iraq. It’s not just FCO or DfiD support though – visits by parliamentarians, NGOs and academics can all help to foster a more democratic atmosphere.

The Commonwealth, which has an important relationship with Pakistan, is one of the few international institutions to suspend or expel its member countries when democracy or human rights are seriously threatened, and did so in November when Pakistan implemented martial law. It would be helpful if other international institutions such as the UN and the World Bank would have the courage of their rhetoric to similarly put pressure on countries that subvert democratic norms.

Pakistan is not the basket case some have made out – and Musharraf is hardly on a par with Saddam or Mugabe. The country's economy has improved dramatically in the past five years, thanks in part to the stewardship of former Prime Minister Aziz, but it hasn’t translated as much as it should do into poverty reduction for ordinary people.

Even though its popularity is damaged, the army will always play its part in Pakistani politics, as it has done frequently since the 1950s. Often, it is to maintain Pakistan’s stability and status as a relatively secular democracy. The challenge is to ensure that the other representative democratic institutions are powerful enough to compete with it.

Alex Bigham is the Head of Communications and Projects at the Foreign Policy Centre, a London based progressive think tank.
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An English hero for the ages: Ian Botham at 60

Botham blends his sportsmanship and deep-seated passion for cricket with a lust for life.

Begging W H Auden’s pardon, it is possible both to honour and to value the vertical man, and in the case of Ian Botham, who turned 60 on 24 November, it is our bounden duty. No sportsman has given Britons so much to enjoy in the past half-century and no sportsman is loved more. Two decades after he retired from first-class cricket, his reputation as one of life’s champions remains unassailable.

No mere cricketer is he, either. Botham is a philanthropist, having raised more than £12m for various charities, notably Leukaemia and Lymphoma Research. In December, 30 years after his first walk from John o’Groats to Land’s End, he will set off again, in South Africa, where England are on tour. And he really does walk, too, not amble. As somebody who accompanied him on one of his dozen walks said: “You can’t keep up with him. The man is a phenomenon.”

Of all postwar sportsmen, only Bobby Charlton and, at a pinch, Henry Cooper come close to matching Botham’s enduring popularity. But Charlton, a shy man who was scarred by the Munich plane crash of 1958 (and may never have recovered from its emotional effects), has never comfortably occupied a public stage; and Cooper, being a boxer, had a solitary role. Botham, by contrast, spoke for England. Whenever he picked up his bat, or had a ball in his hand, he left spectators in no doubt.

Others have also spoken for England. Bobby Moore and Martin Johnson, captains respectively of England’s World Cup-winning football and rugby teams, were great players but did not reach out to people as naturally as Botham. Nick Faldo, Lester Piggott, Sebastian Coe and, to bring us up to date, Lewis Hamilton have beaten the best in the world, but they lacked those qualities that Botham displayed so freely. That is not to mark them down. They were, and are, champions. But Botham was born under a different star.

It was John Arlott, the great cricket commentator, who first spotted his uniqueness. Covering a match at Taunton in 1974, he asked the young colt to carry his bags up the rickety staircase to the press box, where Arlott, wearing his oenophile’s hat, pulled out a bottle of red wine and invited Botham to drink. Forty years later Botham is a discriminating wine drinker – and maker. Along with his friend and fellow England great Bob Willis, and their Australian wine­making pal Geoff Merrill, he has put his name to a notable Shiraz, “BMW”.

Arlott, with his nose for talent and good company, saw something in the young Botham that Brian Close, his captain at Somerset, was beginning to bring out. Later, Mike Brearley, as England captain, drew out something even more remarkable. As Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote, you’ve got to be carefully taught. And Botham, a fine team man as well as a supreme individual performer, has never withheld praise from those who enabled him to find his voice.

If sport reveals character, then cricket is the game that reveals it most clearly. In no other sport is the individual performance rooted so firmly in a team context. Every over brings a contest of skill and intelligence between batsman and bowler but only a team can win the match. “A cricketer,” as Arlott said, “is showing you something of himself all the time.”

Cricket also reveals national character more than any other sport. Football may be the most popular game in the world but cricket, and cricketers, tell us far more about England and Englishness. It is instructive, in this regard, to hear what Philippe Auclair, a French journalist and author long resident in London, has to say about Botham: “He is essentially an 18th-century Englishman.” In one! It’s not difficult to sense a kinship with Tom Jones, Fielding’s embodiment of 18th-century life, who began his journey, as readers may recall, in Somerset.

A country boy who played for Worcestershire after leaving Somerset, and who lives by choice in North Yorkshire, Botham is an old-fashioned Englishman. Although nobody has yet found him listening to the parson’s sermon, he is conservative with a small and upper-case C, a robust monarchist, handy with rod and gun, and happiest with a beaker in front of him. He represents (though he would never claim to be a representative) all those people who understand instinctively what England means, not in a narrow way, but through something that is in the blood.

Above all, he will be remembered for ever as the hero of 1981. Even now it takes some believing that Botham bowled and batted with such striking success that the Australians, who were one up after two Tests, were crushed. Some of us who were actually at Headingley for the famous third Test – thousands who claim to have been there were not – recall the odds of 500-1 on an England victory going up on the electronic scoreboard that Saturday evening.

Botham made 149 not out as England, following on, beat the Aussies by 18 runs. For three hours the country seemed to stop. In the next Test, at Edgbaston, Botham took five wickets for one run as Australia fell under his spell. Then, at Old Trafford, on a dank Saturday afternoon, he played the most memorable innings of his life and one of the greatest innings ever played by an Englishman: 118 magnificent, joyful runs. Joy: that’s the word. Botham brought joy into people’s lives.

Yet it was the final Test at the Oval, which ended in a draw, that brought from him a performance no less remarkable than those from before. He bowled 89 overs in that match, flat out, continuing to run in when others withdrew with injury. That was the team man coming to the fore. Little wonder his comrades thought the world of him.

Modest, loyal, respectful to opponents, grateful to all who have lent him a hand, and supported throughout a turbulent life by Kath, his rock of a wife, and their three children, this is a cricketing hero to rank with W G Grace, Jack Hobbs, Wally Hammond and Fred Trueman. A feature in the lives of all who saw him, and a very English hero. 

This article first appeared in the 26 November 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Terror vs the State