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By Aqil Shah ON June 17, the PPP-led coalition government broke new ground by bringing the defence budget for debate in the parliament. Unlike previous years when military expenditure (MILEX) was listed as a one-liner in the central budget, the Rs295.30bn estimated budget for 2008-09 (as well as the Rs276.18bn revised budget for 2007) provides service wise break-up under different heads, such as personnel, operations, physical assets and civil works. The PPP senator and leader of the house, Raza Rabbani, proudly asserted on the floor of the Senate that “it is the first step towards the supremacy of parliament”. Is it?
A satisfactory answer requires placing the issue in its historical context. Since independence from British colonial rule in 1947, military expenditure has been a virtual black box. The tradition of official secrecy inherited from colonial rule was reinforced in the formative years.
The newly independent state was immediately trapped in a ‘security dilemma’ with a larger, militarily more powerful neighbouring India. Not surprisingly, the founding elites prioritised the defence of the state’s territorial borders over the development of its people.
In this militarised political economy, the logic of transparency quickly gave way to the illogic of ‘secrecy equals security.’ For instance, as early as Dec 20, 1948, when an MLA from East Bengal, Prof. Raj Kumar Chakraverty, asked for the disclosure of the annual budgetary allocation for ‘defence’ of Kashmir and other borders, the then defence minister (and prime minister), Liaquat Ali Khan retorted: “In the interests of the State, the information cannot be given.”
Once the military gained more power vis-à-vis civilian politicians, especially with Gen Ayub Khan’s elevation to the office of the defence minister in 1954, even formal civilian control was abolished and MILEX became an exclusive military domain. During the short-lived period of formal civilian rule from 1972-1977, the exact details of MILEX remained out of bounds for legislators. The story was not much different under civilian rule in the 1990s.
The budgeting process was devoid of any meaningful civilian input: the three services headquarters prepared the estimates and submitted them to the ministry of defence. From there, it went through the standard bureaucratic motions and parliament eventually rubberstamped it.
So yes, the 2008 budget heralds change. But why now? On the civilian side, it made imminent political sense. The PPP and PML-N had committed in the Charter of Democracy to placing MILEX before the elected parliament for debate and approval. They are not entirely wrong in claiming credit for making history. But this is indeed just a baby step in a long journey. Parliament still does not wield the authority to properly scrutinise and rationalise MILEX.
Meaningful accountability is likely to remain elusive unless parliament has access to a line by line itemised budget over which it can exercise sovereign financial control. The ongoing parliamentary debate is virtually akin to the case of the drunken man looking for his car keys under the lamp post.
But even so, why would the military agree to parliamentary scrutiny? Is it because of a real change in its organisational ethos from insubordination towards subordination to civilian authority? Or is it a move driven by cold corporate expediency? The answer is no and yes. Like any self-interested organisation, the Pakistani military has extricated itself from civilian politics because the costs of remaining in power outweighed its benefits.
Viewed in that perspective, the military has thrown a ‘teaser’ at the parliament. For a few more lines in the budget, it has created the illusion of transparency at a time when its credibility has plummeted to a new low, and perhaps potentially silenced critics in a civil society deeply disaffected with its political autonomy and influence.
This is not to imply that the change is insignificant from a democratic standpoint. Institutional decisions can often have unintended effects, especially decisions made at critical junctures (or openings for institutional change) such as democratic transitions. These effects can get ‘locked’ in the shape of institutional practices by generating ‘increasing returns’ for powerful actors.
Put simply, parliamentary debate over even a quasi-itemised MILEX is likely to create a momentum towards greater transparency that may not be easy to reverse. With each passing year, legislators could ask for more and more information. Many have already demanded that next year’s defence budget should be more detailed.
Over time, the process of parliamentary oversight and control over the military budget might gradually assume a ‘taken for granted’ quality both for the military and civilians. Of course, alternative outcomes are not completely closed. For instance, the military can retaliate against deeper civilian scrutiny into MILEX to protect its institutional interests.
In other words, the military retains the right to take off its pound of flesh from the body politic as and when it deems necessary. Which outcome prevails will ultimately depend on both the longevity and quality of our latest tryst with democracy. If democracy survives, and civilian elites rule within the bounds of the constitution, the likelihood of democratic-parliamentary supremacy over the military will only increase.
If on the other hand, civilians do not govern democratically and/or lose legitimacy on account of their performance in power, the praetorian military will have yet another opportunity to upend the democratic transition.
The writer, a PhD candidate in Political Science at Columbia University, is currently doing research in Pakistan.
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