Vote for Me—Now

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It's not unusual for democrats in Pakistan to behave like dictators, but dictators who try to behave like democrats are an anomaly. Thus Pakistan's leader, General Pervez Musharraf, has created a rare spectacle in recent weeks by campaigning for the people's consent to continue as President. Musharraf came to power in 1999 by grabbing it from an elected Prime Minister in a coup. He did not seek permission then, but on April 30, Pakistanis are being asked to vote in a referendum to approve another five years of Musharraf. There is no other candidate, yet he has been crisscrossing Pakistan, addressing rallies, donning enormous turbans, promising electricity and roads—all the things politicians love to do.

On the surface, Musharraf does not need to put himself—and the country—through this exercise. His corps' commanders—whose support is critical to his survival—are handpicked loyalists, and most Pakistanis accept his rule. But with national legislative elections coming up in five months, he wants to shore up popular support in case a vengeful new Parliament tries to throw him out or charge him with treason for the coup.

	Should Pervez Musharraf continue to rule Pakistan for the next five years? Yes No Not Sure

Musharraf's future has ramifications beyond Pakistan's borders. He is the linchpin in the U.S.'s war against terrorism. If he goes, Pakistan's position as frontline state could be undermined. But the referendum could backfire, says political scientist Hasan Askari Rizvi: "Suddenly people are thinking, how different is he really?" Some fear Musharraf may also try to consolidate his power further by formalizing the role of the National Security Council, a military-dominated body that would undercut Parliament and hold decision-making authority over all major national issues.

Certainly, Musharraf is taking no chances with the referendum. The government, which is spending nearly $28 million on the campaign, is so worried about an embarrassingly low turnout that it has reduced the voting age from 21 to 18 and set up 87,000 polling stations, including mobile booths at bazaars, bus stops, airports, offices, even prisons. At a rally in Peshawar last week, the nearest Musharraf supporters—including his own government officials—were kept 50 m away from the elevated stage, which was surrounded by commandos brandishing automatic rifles. Riot police were poised to charge, but the crowd was docile. Most had been carted in by local officials who had lured them with promises of dinner or of passing on to Musharraf requests for help. "Just see the love for our President!" gushed one booster. But the crowd merely cheered on cue.

Whatever love there might have been is diminishing among many liberal and moderate Pakistanis who previously supported Musharraf. They now compare him to the late, hated dictator General Zia ul-Haq, who in 1984 initiated a constitutionally questionable referendum to legitimize his rule. Likewise, some industrialists have grown disillusioned with Musharraf. They claim government officials threatened them into backing the referendum; to show their support, they sponsored huge banners praising the President. Exorbitant tax bills were presented to those who claimed other political loyalties. "Everybody is terrified," says a Karachi businessman. "We don't want our businesses to be destroyed. So we are supporting him."

All of Pakistan's major political and religious parties have stood against the vote, but quietly, because opposition rallies are banned. Qazi Hussain Ahmad who heads the Jamaat-e-Islami, Pakistan's largest religious party, was arrested briefly last week after calling the referendum "farcical" and trying to lead a small protest. Musharraf has also been attacking the country's exiled former Prime Ministers, as they are the only rivals who might muster significant political support. "Nawaz Sharif and Benazir Bhutto have no role in Pakistani politics, this should be clear," he declared in a recent televised speech. Pakistan People's Party leaders claim that Musharraf has tried to make a deal with Bhutto, who has been convicted of corruption, to stay out of politics for the next five years; she purportedly refused and plans to return to Pakistan for the October elections. Bhutto herself excoriates Musharraf as "a power-hungry general" holding "an illegal referendum to perpetuate his illegal rule."

As for the U.S., its message is clear: so long as Musharraf stays in lockstep with Washington's antiterror objectives, he can do pretty much what he pleases at home. Privately, however, U.S. officials have expressed reservations about the referendum. "It doesn't seem like the greatest tactic," says a State Department official. "It'd be better if he just let the Parliament make him President." But real democracy is a messy, unpredictable business. "It does not simply mean elections," says political scientist Rizvi. "It also means you must compromise, and you may lose some power." That, for now, is not something Musharraf is willing to entertain.