Pakistan's State of Emergency

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For Musharraf's supporters Washington, there may be some relief that his survival, regarded as an absolute good for American policy, is assured--for the short term, at least. But what that means for the war on terrorism is unclear. Pakistan's commitment to taking on militants has always been uncertain. After the terrorist attacks on New York City and Washington in September 2001, Bush gave Musharraf a stark choice: he was either with the U.S. or against it. Musharraf chose to help, and Pakistan played an important part in tracking down key terrorist leaders as well as fighting al-Qaeda and the Taliban in the rugged mountains and lawless tribal areas along the border with Afghanistan. But whether through lack of will or lack of ability, Pakistan's army has struggled to keep up the fight--despite massive injections of cash and weapons from the U.S.

In 2006 Musharraf agreed to a cease-fire in the mountains, which has allowed religious extremists and militants to regroup. They have since spread into more moderate parts of the country. A U.S. National Intelligence Estimate in July found that over the past two years, al-Qaeda had made a comeback in Pakistan, re-established training camps and begun plotting fresh attacks against the U.S. When the cease-fire ended nearly a year later, suicide bombings suspected of being linked to al-Qaeda had become a regular feature of Pakistani life.

In many ways the declaration of an emergency plays into the militants' hands. Pakistan's army and intelligence forces must now devote time, energy and resources to stamping out opposition protests in the cities rather than fighting militants in their rural redoubts. With the majority of Pakistanis opposed to Musharraf, the government's struggle to establish control in places like the traditionally moderate Swat Valley, where an Islamist militia is waging a bloody campaign to establish Shari'a law, will become even harder. "Pakistan is very religious, but it is not extremist," says Ahsan Iqbal, information secretary for the Pakistan Muslim League Nawaz, the party led by Nawaz Sharif. By making this a battle between secular values and extremism, Iqbal says, Musharraf is seeking to justify his actions and appeal to moderate Pakistanis. But Iqbal doubts it will work, as even moderate Muslims have had enough of military rule. "Musharraf is pushing a large chunk of moderate but religious Pakistanis to side with the extremists, even if unwillingly," he says.

Can the U.S. get Musharraf to change course? President Bush called the general on Nov. 7, again urging him to restore democracy. But Bush has little leverage with the dictator, even though the U.S. has given Pakistan more than $10 billion in aid since 9/11, with most of the money going directly to the military. Turning off the money tap is not seen as an option. "We are mindful not to do anything that would undermine counterterrorism efforts," Secretary of Defense Robert Gates said to reporters during a trip to China. Washington's Pakistan nightmare is that a weakened Musharraf may be ousted by extremist groups, leaving the country's nuclear arsenal in the hands of America-hating wackos. Anthony Zinni, a retired Marine general who headed the U.S. Central Command when Musharraf became army chief in 1998, points out that the U.S. ban on military exchanges with Pakistan during the 1990s--because of Islamabad's push for nuclear weapons--helped radicalize many in the officer corps. Musharraf flagged this as a potential problem in his first meeting with Zinni. "You were beginning to see beards in the officer corps, which may signify more religious conservatism," Zinni recalls. Now that those officers are moving into senior positions, "it could very easily become a problem," he says.

But there's little real danger of extremists coming to power, no matter what happens to Musharraf. The Pakistani army is still largely secular. The main political parties--Bhutto's PPP and Sharif's Pakistan Muslim League--are moderate. But continued U.S. support for an unpopular Musharraf may complicate Washington's relations with any future civilian government. Pakistanis see Musharraf as America's man and regard U.S. calls for democracy as insincere. "Musharraf is an enemy of Pakistan," says Akhtar Qazi, a 71-year-old retired schoolteacher with anger to match her brightly hennaed hair. "We sacrificed our lives for Pakistan, and he wants to sell it to the Americans." Like many Pakistanis, Qazi figures the U.S. wants Musharraf in power no matter what he does. There are even growing rumbles of discontent within the Pakistani military; some officers worry that increasing public anger at Musharraf may rub off on them. "Over the last few months, morale has folded like a tent," says retired Lieut. General Talat Masood. "[The troops] are not trained for this insurgency, they don't have the equipment, and they don't have the support of the populace."

With the Supreme Court now brought to heel, Musharraf may feel secure enough to find a face-saving way to give up his military command. His regime is already promising that elections will go ahead in January, by which time a Musharraf-Bhutto alliance may be firmly in place. If Musharraf lasts that long, that is. Indeed, within days of the declaration of emergency, rumors began to spread of a coup backed by Pakistan's new vice chief of army staff, General Ashfaq Kyani, Musharraf's heir apparent. Rumors are commonplace in Pakistani politics, and Kyani is a loyalist. Still, for many Pakistanis--even those fed up with military dictators--the rumors brought a glimmer of hope. Abida Hussain, a former ambassador to the U.S., got a phone call about a possible coup while being interviewed by TIME. "If only," she responded. "If there were a coup, it would be the best day for Pakistan." That a diplomat should wish for another military coup in her own country is a measure of just how low Pakistan has sunk.