Nawaz Sharif has somehow acquired a larger than life political image. A Ziaul Haq protégé, who was propped up by the military regime and initiated into the power hierarchy, as a counter-weight to the opposition demanding lifting of Martial law and holding of elections, his trump card to climb up to the ladder was to ‘buy’ support. It goes without saying that being a scion of a leading ndustrialist family he could afford to invest big money for promoting his political career. From an ‘errand boy’ of the military regime he rose to earn for himself the title ‘lion of Punjab’ (there were quite a few other contenders for the dubious title). The secret of his smooth passage was the age-old prescription -- always remain on the right side of the establishment to which he religiously stuck until he believed that he had risen high enough to take charge of the establishment.

His singular accomplishment was his landslide victory in the 1996 elections, which gave him more than two-third majority in the National Assembly and the leverage to function like a ‘Moghul emperor’ (which reportedly was his role model). In his bid to arrogate to himself ‘all powers’ he set about subduing all the parallel power centres -- disarming the president, taming the Supreme Court and cutting the military leadership down to size. Given his preponderant parliamentary majority and high popular rating (as no one else was in competition with him for popular support) he could get things done, as he desired without much ado. Farooq Leghari was ousted from the presidency and a hand picked loyalist installed in his place, chief justice Sajjad Ali Shah was made to quit his job, and the Army Chief of Staff Jehangir Karamat was asked to resign for criticising the government policies.

One would say this was the climax of Nawaz Sharif’s power and glory. Small wonder he was said to have been toying with the idea of, what critics said, proclaiming himself ‘Khalifah-tul-Muslameen’, so as to invoke ‘divine authority’ for his undisputed and indefinite rule. What had added spice to the stories of his rumoured design was his insistence on enforcing Shariah through an act of parliament to pursue ‘Ziaul Haq’s unfinished agenda’ of Islamisation. (Incidentally Ziaul Haq, contrary to the official government line, had said the jihad in Afghanistan would not end with the withdrawal of Soviet forces, but would continue till the liberation of Bokhara, Samarkand and all other Muslim lands annexed by the Russians, as he had vowed to be there himself). Mercifully, Nawaz Sharif had no design to invade other countries to establish a ‘Khalafat’ but he was quite prepared to follow in the footsteps of his ‘mentor and early benefactor’ to turn Pakistan from a parliamentary democracy to a cosmetic theocracy to suit his political convenience.

Nawaz Sharif’s gross miscalculation, which cost him his job and eight long years in exile, was his belief that he was in total control of the establishment. He failed to take his cue from history. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto had also suffered from the illusion that Pakistan’s politicised army was no longer in a position to intervene in politics in the wake of it humiliating defeat in the 1971 power, and thus he set on a course of re-building the truncated armed forces. Bhutto’s real error of judgment was not the appointment of Ziaul Haq as COAS but the assumption that he had managed to establish his political authority over the Army. Nawaz Sharif was misled into making a similar fatal error, even though he had provoked the Generals into hostility by demanding Jehangir Karamat’s resignation. But Pervez Musharraf symbolised the esprit de corps of the Army top brass, which was not willing to let a prime minister push them around.

Pervez Musharraf’s ‘bloodless coup’ in September 1999 exposed the myth of Nawaz Sharif’s ‘formidable support base’. An elected prime minister who had come to power through a massive popular mandate only three years before was removed from power, sent to jail, and then forced into exile and no one in the country rose in defiance of this arbitrary action. And as critics said, there were hardly any people ready to shed tears on the tragic end of Nawaz Sharif who fancied himself as a ‘man of destiny’. Needless to say this was the beginning of the end of Nawaz Sharif tryst with popular support. Securing release from prison by undertaking to live in exile for ten years left no doubt in anybody’s mind that he did not belong to the breed of leaders who were prepared to resist and fight an authoritarian regime, more so if it involved personal hardship.

As Nawaz Sharif was banished to Saudi Arabia, his absence from the country for eight years marginalised his politics, his party was hijacked by the ‘Kings new countries’, as has been Muslim League tradition since the days of Liaqat Ali Khan -- whoever happens to run the government also gets the party as a ‘bonus’, and in the wake of his faction’s poor performance in the 2002 election he was dismissed by many, including President Musharraf, as ‘spent force’. As a sneaked out of Saudi Arabia to reside in London he managed to revive a modicum of political activity, even though it was mainly confined to issuing hard hitting statements against the Islamabad regime, punctuated by deadlines to return to Pakistan where he claimed the masses were eagerly waiting for him to come and lead the struggle against military dictatorship. He took great pride in being able to convince a gathering of the opposition parties, including the PPP, in London and securing consensus on the agenda of restoration of democracy. The ‘charter of democracy’, to which the All Parties Conference was a signatory to, was hailed by Nawaz Sharif as a landmark which would turn the tide against the military dictatorship.

That Nawaz Sharif was guilty of making another miscalculation was borne out by the insignificant impact the high-profile ‘charter of democracy’ had on developments in the country’s politics. The ‘unkindest cuts of all’ inflicted on Nawaz Sharif was by Benazir Bhutto who negotiated a ‘power-sharing deal’ with Musharraf. The judicial crisis was a ‘blessing in disguise’ for the opposition as it saw an opportunity to discredit the regime and facilitate mass agitation. Nawaz Sharif was misled to believe that the ‘moment of truth’ had arrived, the writ of the regime was under jeopardy and he could safely return to Pakistan in defiance of his undertaking, courtesy a helpful Supreme Court. What happened to his abortive bid to return home is now history. However, two of his assumptions spoke volumes for his misconceived notions about the state of affairs on the country -- the Musharraf regime was not on its way out, and millions of countrymen were not out to welcome Nawaz Sharif on his arrival.

On the face of it Nawaz Sharif has been treading a warpath against Musharraf regime since his return home. We will have no truck with the dictatorship, he says, as he has been demanding that Musharraf should step down and a national government formed. Nonetheless, he does not appear to have stuck to a consistent line of action, or as the critics would say he does not seem to have a clue how to go about underscoring his mission under the circumstances. His political adversaries have been making fun of his wayward political approach -- his detours and U-turns on the question of boycott of polls. As the QML leaders taunted him for being ‘PPP’s B-team’, others questioned his bonafides to evolve a viable course of action. In any case if Nawaz Sharif is still harbouring the illusion of leading a mass movement against Musharraf regime, he should be pragmatic enough to learn that a collision course against the establishment is not his ‘cup of tea’. And the PPP, which has been trying to rope in on the confrontation course, is likely to opt for the path of least resistance. Nawaz Sharif is a classic example of a highly ‘overrated’ politician who is finding it hard to live up to his inflated image of astute leadership and equation with the masses.