Southasian generals nowadays seem to be present more in government secretariats than in barracks. And they are there not to listen to elected civilian bosses, but to displace them, or, alternatively, to exercise behind-the-scenes control. The messily evolving political processes in almost every country of the region certainly offer them opportunities to do so. But the history of Southasia has illustrated, time and again, that an active political role for militaries is a sure-fire recipe for an even messier, more violent and conflict-ridden landscape.
In Pakistan, the military has ruled, directly or indirectly, for almost the entire six decades the country has been independent – though at present, the institution arguably faces its most severe threat yet. The army likewise orchestrated a coup in Bangladesh soon after the country's liberation; now, a democratic interlude of a decade-and-a-half notwithstanding, it is back in the saddle as the real power behind the Dhaka throne. Burma, meanwhile, has become nearly synonymous with its brutal military regime. The army chief in Nepal seems itching to derail the peace process in that country, barely two years after the military and its principal patron, the monarch, were humiliated by a resounding display of people power. The continuous war in Sri Lanka certainly gives the generals and admirals an inordinate say in the affairs of Colombo. And even in India, the armed forces exercise more influence in policymaking than is often imagined – particularly with regard to 'disturbed states' in the Northeast, Kashmir and external affairs vis-à-vis the neighbourhood.
What allows the men – and they are always men – in khaki to assume the avatar of leaders and state administrators?
For one, a democratic dispensation that deals with the painful process of nation-building has to reconcile multiple contradictions and conflicts – a seemingly chaotic and visibly noisy exercise. Add a set of politicians who want instant gratification and who are only too happy to destroy democratic institutions by using them as tools for personal patronage. Such a scenario, seemingly all-pervasive in Southasia, makes the military look clean in contrast to 'dirty politics'. Generals aspiring to be political theorists peddle lines about how democracy is a Western import, and that what is needed are more-rooted political systems 'suited to the soil'. Meanwhile, the army's craving for order is only matched by a similar yearning among the middle class, which often wants quick, technocratic solutions. And then there are always the big international players, who often suffer from selective amnesia about commitments to human rights when it comes to supporting regimes that are 'friendly'.