Almost everyone, including many of his loyalists, concedes that recently retired General Pervez Musharraf no longer carries the mark of a man who was, only until last year, in complete command.
Pakistan is a country rich with material for the most cerebral storyteller and moviemaker, especially when you consider what you see is not, very often, what you get.
Following the general’s bruising clash with a proactive judiciary and challenging private electronic media, which were beginning to push the limits of freedom after an ill-judged decision to sack the chief justice last year, many were led to believe that he had bought himself a one way ticket to the blues.
The obituary, as events unfolded, was premature despite the fact that the judiciary appeared to have won the first round with the restoration of its top judge.
Just when Musharraf was confronting the ghosts of his worst fears about the rejuvenated judiciary overruling his controversial re-election as president, he pre-empted the move by imposing a State of Emergency that, in one fell swoop, took care of the entire lot of independent judges of the Supreme and High Courts and incredulously, silenced the news channels of the entire private electronic media, which were taken off air.
The following days witnessed possibly, the worst repression in Pakistan’s chequered history with lawyers, journalists and members of the civil society regularly beaten up and arrested.
However, Musharraf rode out the storm by year-end, helped in no small measure by muted criticism from Washington, which seemed more concerned about hatching a political marriage between him and former prime minister Benazir Bhutto to continue the war on terror.
The politically fractious and still unexplained assassination of Ms Bhutto has however, brought Musharraf back in the line of fire. The debate over who will form the next government in Pakistan and what will be its contours in the aftermath of Ms Bhutto’s death appears to have dissolved into mostly inane debate without reviewing the role of the army, which is the real arbiter of power in the Pakistan.
Perhaps, it is down to the general with manifestly misplaced perception that Musharraf has fortified his position with the studied appointment of General Ashfaq Pervez Kayani as his successor in uniform.  However, recent events on the ground — some quite symbolic in nature — appear to suggest otherwise.
Despite taking a public stand in favour of continuing the war on terror, Kayani is certainly not straining to keep up appearances with Musharraf on the retired army chief’s claim last week that they were “two of a kind”.
As Imran Khan quipped recently: “Nobody is anyone’s man once he becomes commander-in-chief with 700,000 soldiers under his command”.
Known as a thorough professional with a calm demeanour, the new army chief is keeping a studied distance — with signs for the discerning as to what the change in guard portends.
It may have started on the very day Musharraf reluctantly, passed on the baton to Kayani. Close watchers noticed how Musharraf offered words of praise for his successor only grudgingly with less-than-flattering — and repeated mention — of how he knew a man, who had “served under me for 20 years.” He later described feeling stronger with Kayani’s appointment.
If Musharraf felt any stronger, he certainly didn’t show it when even before doffing the uniform, he moved swiftly to have the powers he used as army chief to impose a state of emergency returned to his person as president — a sure indication, if ever, that where the stakes are high, trust is usually a casualty.
Musharraf’s next move was even more conspicuous for its choice. Despite retiring after 46 years of service, he decided to stay in the Army House, citing security concerns.
Not everyone buys the raison d’etre. The general conclusion is that staying put is more likely a symbolic move from Musharraf to show he still holds sway with the only constituency he could once call his own.
Just hot on the heels of assuming the charge of the world’s sixth biggest army, and not being afforded the facility of moving in the house that symbolizes that power is unlikely to amuse lesser mortals, let alone a man who is, realistically speaking, now the most powerful in this country.
The incumbent army chief has taken three steps, which are more than just subtle hints of a paradigm shift. If at all, they speak of a person, who is his own man. Upon taking charge last November, Kayani declared 2008 to be the ‘Year of the Soldier’.
The declaration was a strong message — encapsulating public support for the lower cadres of the army, in particular. By implication, it showed up Musharraf as someone, who probably did not do enough busy as he was trying to shore up his rule.
The second, and more pronounced step was to send in written directives that, in future, the army command would restrict themselves to the constitutionally ordained role of defending the country’s borders, and not meet politicians or engage in politics.
The third step is Kayani’s reformative move to recall all officers and soldiers working in civil autonomous and semi-autonomous departments to their units. It is likely aimed at rebuilding the army’s image, which received an unprecedented battering under his predecessor’s command.
The keen scriptwriter will however, have a compelling case to watch the fortunes of Pakistan’s Comeback Kid. Musharraf has, after all, survived at least two known attempts on his life, with electronic jammers starring as lifesavers. He has also astutely, and at other times; with sheer luck survived one crisis after another.
Meanwhile, in the days to come Kayani is sure to find that the majority of his compatriots will welcome the return of the armed forces, the only national institution that retains its core values and discipline, to its constitutionally ordained duty of protecting the country’s frontiers.