Cricketer-turned-politician
Imran Khan has recently been removed from his prime ministerial post in an
American induced no-confidence vote in the Pakistani parliament by a slim
margin of 174 votes out of the 342-member legislative body.
The vote came after a dramatic week in
which the Supreme Court of Pakistan deemed unconstitutional a move by the
deputy speaker, a member of Khan’s party, to block the no-confidence motion.
While Khan is the first Prime Minister
to be removed by the parliament in such a way, his removal continues the
tradition of holders of the post not finishing their terms, with the list
coming to nineteen and counting.
While opposition supporters and other
sections of the international media are framing Khan’s dismissal as a victory
for democracy and rule of law, the reality is that this action is likely to
have deleterious effects on Pakistan’s fragile democracy that will be more
apparent in the months and years to come.
Imran Khan was already a national
celebrity in Pakistan before entering politics in 1996, having a glamorous
twenty-year career in cricket which ended with him as captain of Pakistan’s
first World Cup-winning cricket team.
Khan spent the next 15 years on the margins
of Pakistan’s political scene, before emerging as a potent third political
force in 2011. His party, the Tehreek-e-Insaaf, became a viable electoral
entity in competition with the two major parties, the PPP and PMLN, both ruled
in a dynastic fashion and dominated by feudal constituents.
Khan is known for his brand of populist
street politics, anti-corruption rhetoric and Islamic-themed public messaging.
He was a trenchant critic of Pakistan’s involvement in the US War on Terror and
occupation of Afghanistan, and regularly held rallies condemning the Obama
administration’s use of drone strikes in the tribal areas of Pakistan as a
violation of sovereignty and human rights.
In 2018, Khan assumed the post of Prime
Minister after his party formed a coalition government in an election contested
by the opposition of having been rigged. The reality is that no civilian
government can assume power in the country without the active hand of
Pakistan’s military and intelligence establishment, the most powerful institution
in the country.
Upon assuming power, Khan faced an
unprecedented de-legitimization campaign in the Western press, accusing him of
being a loose cannon and a pawn for the military.
Claiming he would usher in a progressive
era of ‘New Pakistan’, Khan was confronted with an unprecedented series of
challenges in his three and a half years. His own inexperience, a weak
coalition government, strident opposition and entrenched systemic corruption
meant his odds of delivering on his lofty campaign promises were slim from the
outset.
The most immediate issue was the
currency crisis, with Pakistan’s foreign reserves having been so depleted that
Khan was forced to appeal to ally states and the IMF for resources to stabilize
Pakistan’s economy.
Policy-wise, his tenure was a mixed bag.
Khan’s government introduced much-needed programs on social welfare and the
environment, and his measured pandemic response earned international praise. He
was criticized for crackdowns on press freedom and for certain cabinet
selections, as well as his silence on China’s persecution of the Uighurs.
The inability to curb the rapid
inflation and rising prices on food and essentials, a global phenomenon but
particularly acute in Pakistan, is what the coalition of opposition parties
seized upon late last year when they launched their bid to remove Khan.
The specter of the US relations looms
large on Pakistan politics. As the vote neared end of March, Khan announced at
a public rally that a foreign hand is behind the drive by the opposition. He
claimed that the Biden administration was directly threatening Pakistan with
dire consequences if the no-confidence vote was not passed.
He pointed to an ambassadorial meeting
with Assistant Secretary of State for South and Central Asian Affairs, Donald
Lu, in which this threat was communicated through official channels to his
government. His party supporters also point to a flurry of meetings at the US
embassy of defecting members of his party close in the announcement of the
no-confidence vote as further evidence of conspiracy, which the Biden
administration denies and the opposition rubbishes.
Despite fraternal relations of Khan with
the Trump administration, Biden’s office has yet to be so accommodating, having
not even shared a phone call with the premier. This cold shoulder treatment
continued even during the US’ withdrawal from Afghanistan.
Khan made an ill-timed visit to Russia
to meet with Putin at the eve of the launch of their Ukrainian invasion.
According to Khan, this visit and the previous efforts of his administration to
initiate an independent foreign policy outside of the US orbit, so incensed the
Biden administration that they were leveraging their diplomatic pressure to
ensure the no-confidence vote passed. In the background, the military
establishment appears to have cooled their own relations with Khan and are
trying to salvage the strategic relationship with the US.
Trying to prove such an active
conspiracy is difficult yet the possibility of foreign interference cannot be
discounted. The US has a long history of involvement in Pakistan’s internal
affairs, from steady support to its military generals to drone strikes inside
its tribal areas to the Abbottabad operation. Most notably, the US is widely
believed to have actively supported the opposition movement to the popular
Prime Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, leading to his removal by the military in
1977 and eventual judicial murder.
Though Khan is no longer prime minister,
his narrative of a foreign conspiracy appears to have resonated with a wide
section of the public and support base is growing. The opposition, now in
charge, faces the unenviable task of steadying Pakistan’s economic ship while
simultaneously being accused of being an ‘imported government’ by Khan.
What would have been more beneficial for
Pakistan’s democracy rather than this destabilizing status quo would have been
for Khan to finish his prime ministerial term by the stated date of October
2023 and then have the public determine his fate in a general election. Basic
trust in continuity in the democratic process would have at least been
established.
His removal based on the flimsy pretext
of poor economic performance is a new low and ensures future leaders will
always be on slippery ground, at the mercy of being displaced by a
constellation of forces, inside and outside the country, as has been the case
in Pakistan’s history. What more, the fragmented dynamics of Pakistan’s
political party representation means that it is unlikely for any party in the
future, either Khan’s party or its rivals, to be able to form a strong
clear parliamentary majority in the center unless without heavy rigging,
leading to rickety coalitions headed by leaders at constant risk of being
dismissed.
Political backrooms deals with the
United States have replaced the choices of voters and reduced elections to
further insignificance. The no-confidence motion, far from being a check on
non-performing leaders in charge, only weakens Pakistan’s democratic setup that
badly needs stability and trust on the ballot.
Now let’s look behind the scene.
The parliament of Pakistan recently ousted Prime Minister Imran Khan in
a no-confidence vote. The reasons for the former cricket star’s political
downfall are not entirely clear. His economic policies were a mixed bag at
best, but he deserves credit for one thing: he’d taken a bold stand against
international investment agreements that give transnational corporations
excessive power over national governments.
In fact, Khan had begun a process of terminating 23
bilateral investment treaties(BITs)
that allow corporations to sue governments in unaccountable supranational
tribunals. Instead, he believed such disputes should be handled through local
arbitration.
Khan had learned the hard way how these so-called “investor protection”
agreements can tie the hands of government officials, limiting their ability to
act in the public interest. In 2019, a year after Khan became Prime Minister, a
tribunal (three private judges behind closed doors, to be clear) of the World
Bank’s International Centre for Settlement of Investment Disputes (ICSID)
ordered Pakistan to pay an Australian mining company $6 billion in compensation
for denying a mining permit on environmental grounds.
A similar suit by the same company, Tethyan Copper — a subsidiary of
Canadian giant Barrick Gold, through a different tribunal under the International Chamber of Commerce brought the total
amount Pakistan owed Tethyan to $11 billion.
The ICSID ruling concluded that Pakistan had violated a BIT with
Australia by failing to provide Tethyan “fair and equitable treatment,” a
vaguely worded obligation that corporate plaintiffs love to exploit. The
tribunal also decided that denying the license for Tethyan’s Reko Diq gold and
copper project was tantamount to “indirect expropriation” — never mind the fact
that the Supreme Court of Pakistan had ruled the permit invalid because the
company had violated national mining and contract laws.
ICSID’s response was to order Pakistan to draw billions of dollars from
its public coffers to compensate Tethyan for their lost expected future
profits. The company had only invested about $150 million in the project.
Khan’s government went to great lengths to reverse the decision,
highlighting that the $6 billion ICSID award alone represented about 2 percent
of its GDP, or 40 percent of its cash reserves in foreign currency. The
government argued that international tribunals must realize that their
decisions have an impact on state policies, including poverty alleviation. But
the U.S. District Court, responsible for enforcing the ICSID ruling, declared
that Pakistan’s hopes of annulling the award were nothing more than “wishful thinking.”
The ruling against Pakistan under this investor-state dispute settlement
system is even more unfair as it came just after the IMF had approved a $6
billion loan to the country that imposes harsh austerity measures on public
spending. To overcome this financial straitjacket, Pakistan had no choice but
to give in to this concerted attack by financial institutions and international
courts and the world’s second-largest gold mining company.
On March 20, Barrick Gold announced that it had reached a settlement with Pakistan that will allow the
company to resume their controversial Reko Diq mining project in the province
of Balochistan. This is a disturbing example of international investment
treaties’ chilling effect on environmentally responsible policies and
public interest regulations.
Other countries facing similar corporate lawsuits must pay special
attention to this case. Mexico, for example, is being sued by the U.S. mining
company Odyssey Marine Exploration for $3.54 billion. Filed before the ICSID in
2019 under the terms of NAFTA, the suit challenges Mexican authorities’
decision to deny a seabed mining permit to extract phosphate (used for
fertilizers) in the Gulf of Ulloa, off the coast of Baja California Sur. The
Puerto Chale Fishing Cooperative had strongly opposed the project, on the
grounds that their members’ livelihoods depend on the marine areas and seafloor
that Odyssey is intent on dredging.
After the company retaliated by bringing a claim to ICSID, the Fishing
Cooperative and the Center for International Environmental Law (CIEL) attempted
to submit an amicus curiae brief to share their concerns. They also
argued that the decision by Mexico’s Ministry of Environment and Natural
Resources (Semarnat) to deny the exploitation permit was consistent with the
precautionary principle recognized in national and international law. The ICSID
tribunal refused to admit the brief. (https://bit.ly/3umy8dL)
In their recent report “A Sea of Trouble: Seabed Mining
and International Arbitration in Mexico,” Jen Moore of the Institute for Policy Studies and Ellen Moore of
Earthworks explain that such refusals are common in this arbitration system
designed to favor transnational corporations. The majority of the panel, made
up of highly paid corporate lawyers, essentially asserted that the
cooperative’s contribution was “irrelevant.”
One of the three arbitrators, Phillippe Sands, did express a dissenting
opinion. Not only should the cooperative be heard, Sands argued, but that the
failure to admit its concerns exposes the failings of the arbitration system,
with potentially far-reaching impacts on environmental protection policies in
Mexico.
With Khan’s ouster in Pakistan, it’s unclear what will happen to his government’s efforts to withdraw from Bilateral Investment Treaties and the invest-state dispute settlement regime. But resisting this anti-democratic system should not be a partisan issue. All governments should have the authority to adopt economic measures in the public interest — without the threat of American holdup of expensive corporate lawsuits.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário