As this article was being written, a rally was organised to protest Pervez Musharraf’s continued incarceration and trial. A group of concerned citizens with a conscience, aware of the many injustices being done to the man who did away with the Pakistani constitution (twice), gathered to express their solidarity with the beleaguered ex-general. At the McDonald's in Karachi.


Oh dear. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was supposed to look like this:



(Photoshopped quite wonderfully by his team)

But ended up looking like this:



From the lofty glamorous heights of embarrassing himself on Jon Stewart, Musharraf has taken the ignominious plunge to embarrassing himself on virtually every television network and newspaper in Pakistan. Now that he’s on the Exit Control List, barred from leaving the country, the only option left to him by his own admission is to fake his own rape to ensure safe passage abroad.

The general used to be given to reminding us how healthy and fit he was.



But he had become so frail, he had the terrible misfortune of needing to go to a hospital while on his way to his trial. The opportunity to declare his innocence to the world was unfortunately taken away yet again under the most unfortunate circumstances. One can only imagine how much he wanted his day in court:



Things got even worse as his own lawyer sent him a legal notice for not paying his fees. When your own defence lawyers are suing you, you know things are bad.

Just have a look at the stock photos most Pakistani newspapers have used to chronicle his legal travails:







The headache doesn’t seem to go away.

How could this happen? How could the institution that propelled him to power in the first place allow for such public shaming? Dissent was never something Musharraf accommodated: he fired Supreme Court justices, vandalised media offices, and declared emergencies because of it. Why isn’t it happening now?

Musharraf’s become a liability for the army as well. In a difficult time when the army’s under fire for its role in the “missing persons” of Balochistan – well, primarily responsible for them being “missing” in the first place – and for its handling of a Islamist insurgency that threatens to overwhelm the country; the army has no time or inclination to pay for the delusions of a once-powerful man largely responsible for the mess Pakistan is currently in.

In the years Musharraf has been collecting speaking fees at Ivy Leagues, democracy in Pakistan has also undeniably matured. From getting each other kicked out of power, Pakistan’s civilian leaders have on more than one occasion worked together in parliament. Pakistan also saw its first transfer of one elected government to another. There does not appear to be a coup anytime soon, and the media is louder and more critical than ever. Given these advances, Musharraf’s presence in Pakistan seems somewhat quaint – anachronistic even, like a relic from another era.

The Chief Justice he fired was reinstated and he subsequently retired; relations with India and the United States went down, then up, and are now somewhere in the middle; Bin Laden was killed next to Musharraf’s alma mater. In truth, Pakistan isn't the same anymore. Musharraf, unfortunately, is.

His hopes now seem to rest on Pakistan’s younger generation to fight for his release:



How can they not, as he compares himself to one of the greatest leaders of the last generation?



After all, didn’t Mandela launch a war against India, propel the nuclear black market, exile sitting elected leaders, steal elections and stage coups? No? You’re lying.

In his defence, Musharraf did a lot of good things. He liberalised the media, so that one day they could report on the drone strikes that he originally commissioned with the Americans. He made peace with India – after making war with India. He brought democracy to Pakistan – having trussed it and put it on a one-way plane to Saudi Arabia just a few years before.

It’s a pity the nation isn’t taking any of his services rendered as evidence in the trial. A judiciary that rubber-stamped his coup would surely rubber stamp his innocence?

Alas, Pakistan’s seen (and dispensed with) plenty of saviours since Musharraf first claimed to save Pakistan. And there are plenty more saviours that Musharraf now needs to contend with. Given a lack of military oversight, these saviours seemed to have popped up everywhere. They’re currently sitting in negotiation committees, on Twitter, and a bunch of them are rescuing us from the evils of a secular constitution and Valentines Day by killing us.

They’re saving us from IMF loans,



love,



and Bollywood, among other things.



So Musharraf might have found the field a bit crowded.

Ultimately, his mistake may have been a simple miscalculation. Musharraf’s 1.5 million fans on Facebook were the virtual confirmation of the election victory he was hoping for, but as Pakistan's other internet savvy cricketer-turned-politician-turned-saviour Imran Khan found out, ghost Twitter handles don’t translate into votes, no matter how intensely they troll. It is also likely that his own Photoshopping skills may have duped him into overestimating how much support he actually had.



If only @dunhillcig could outvote a district.

As of now, Musharraf’s fate is still undecided. While Pakistan is grateful of intentions to save Pakistan, it may only be the determined, committed members of civil society at McDonald’s that can save him now.