Debates about the appropriateness of democracy for developing nations were common during the Cold War years. Now, in many regions of the world this issue is moot. Communism has been discredited. Democracy is fashionable. Strong international pressures, both economic and political, favor democratization. Within the past decade, in more than one-third of the world’s independent nations, people have opted for more open and democratic forms of governance. Leaders in new democracies face a daunting problem: how to create strong, sustainable democratic institutions that will fulfill the high hopes of their people for political freedom and opportunity. What can the experiences of South Asian nations, as reported in this volume, contribute to solving this problem?

Our introduction identified three questions onto which South Asia’s democratization experiences might throw light. To recapitulate, the questions were these:

In seeking answers to these questions, it is useful to divide South Asia’s experience into two periods, demarcated by the year 1988. Prior to 1988, only India and Sri Lanka met most criteria for a "democracy", described in Part I. Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, and Bhutan were all governed by non-democratic regimes. Thus the years 1947-1988 in South Asia become a useful arena for investigating hypotheses about the causes and sources of democracy that Kenneth Kusterer discusses.

1988 is chosen as a demarcation point because it ushers in a trend toward democratization in three of South Asia’s "non-democratic" regimes -- Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Nepal. In the ensuing decade, not one of these nations has reverted to authoritarian rule. During this same period, India’s and Sri Lanka’s democratic institutions have remained resilient in the face of economic and political adversity. Thus, the post-1988 years become a useful arena for investigating hypotheses about democratic transitions that Laurence Whitehead discusses.

What distinguishes the states we have labeled "democratic" from those we have labeled "non-democratic?" In India and Sri Lanka, civilian-led governments ruled without interruption from the date of independence. More or less competitive general elections were held at regularly scheduled intervals, with only modest tampering. Apart from election-related violence, an endemic problem in South Asia, transfers of power were peaceful. The principle of civilian control over the security forces was unchallenged. Constitutionally mandated protections for political and human rights were acknowledged as norms by major political parties, though violations in times of crisis and against less powerful segments of society were not uncommon. The traditions of a free press, independent judiciary, and professional service remained strong in India, but were eroded by a succession of governments in Sri Lanka.

Pakistan and following its independence, Bangladesh, both exhibited patterns of governance more characteristic of developing nations. Authoritarian rule by military governments or by generals who made weak attempts to camouflage themselves with a civilian mantle were the norm. Intervals of civilian rule were brief and subject to military oversight. Assassinations, military coups d’etat, or other forms of military intervention were the usual means of transferring power. There was no tradition of free elections, although the number of times authoritarian rulers held rigged elections indicated some concern about legitimizing power via a popular mandate. On rare occasions when a genuine popular mandate for political change was expressed, authoritarian leaders intervened quickly to nullify the results. The media were largely under government control. While the judiciary appears to have retained some legitimacy as an independent institution, there is little evidence of successful judicial intervention to curb political repression or protect human rights. Governments frequently used martial law to legitimize repression, but were only slightly less repressive when martial law was not in force. Bhutan and Nepal were also governed by authoritarian regimes. In these nations, however, centuries-old monarchical traditions legitimized non-democratic rule.

In Chapter 1, Kenneth Kusterer reviews three schools of thought that attempt to explain the "causes and sources of democracy." The prerequisites school emphasizes effective law enforcement and the institutions of civil society. The higher human need school emphasizes security and economic development. The learned practice school emphasizes political will and the importation of democratic practices. How do the four nations we are examining differ and how are they similar with respect to these factors?

It is easier to identify points of similarity than points of difference. Most obvious is the area of economic development. Sri Lanka, India, and Pakistan were all poor countries at the time of independence. Implementation of dirigiste economic development models slowed economic growth and expanded the role of inefficient state owned enterprises. Bangladesh, which after independence was the poorest of all, chose a similar path with similar consequences. Sri Lanka gained international recognition for its emphasis on "basic human needs," but paid the price in the 1970s when its welfarist policies proved to be unsustainable. India’s huge domestic market made import substitution industrialization policies more viable, but these policies did little to alleviate urban and rural poverty. It seems most probable that democracy survived in India and Sri Lanka despite the performance of their respective economies, rather than because of it.

Consideration of the factors emphasized by the "prerequisites school" during the immediate pre-independence period does not reveal sharp differences. India and Pakistan began life as independent nations with similar colonial experiences, legal institutions, and educational levels. They had been governed as a single unit under colonial rule. Sri Lanka had its own governor general, who was not subject to the Viceroy, but differences between its governmental institutions and those of India and Pakistan were minor. Traditions of "civil society" were nowhere strong, though a few differences might be identified under this category. India’s Congress Party, with its network of grass-roots organizations and traditions of local-level participation, had no counterpart in either Pakistan or Sri Lanka. East Pakistan’s Awami League was probably the next closest thing to a mass-based political party. Its existence pushed West Pakistan’s Punjabi leaders toward more authoritarian rule in order to protect their power. Later, the Awami League played a pivotal role in securing an independent Bangladesh, but not a democratic one. Post-independence Sri Lanka may approximate a "civil society" most closely. We are referring to the groups that coalesced, orchestrated Sri Lanka’s "Sinhala Only" campaign, and became core supporters of S.W.R.D. Bandaraniake’s Sri Lanka Freedom Party: Sinhalese school teachers, Ayurvedic physicians, Sinhalese writers, and Buddhist priests. Aggressive campaigning by group members contributed to Bandaranaike’s 1956 general election victory. However, the political tactics of the Sinhala Only coalition and its exclusivist form of nationalism do not fit well with theories that emphasize the relationship between civil society and democracy. Nor does the argument that Sri Lanka’s competitive two-party system was pivotal in sustaining democracy survive comparative analysis. Arguably India’s democratic institutions were as effective in holding free and fair elections, maintaining press freedoms, and protecting human rights during 30 years of uninterrupted Congress party rule. We cannot conclude that either a strong civil society or the emergence of competitive political parties was an essential "cause" or "source" of democracy in India and Sri Lanka.

The view that "democracy is a learned practice" appears to best explain why democracy survived in India and Sri Lanka, but not in Pakistan and Bangladesh. Before offering evidence to support this conclusion, the "learned practice" school of thought needs to be more fully reviewed. According to Kusterer, this school views democracy as a "social practice" -- as a "bundle of behaviors, skills and practices" that "must be learned." The most important prerequisite for democracy is a "will to democracy," shared by leaders and followers. Once democratic institutions are put in place, developing rootedness and resiliency is analogous to progress along a learning curve. Initially, institutions and practices are fragile; their use is prone to "error and misunderstanding." As learning progresses, democratic values become more entrenched and democratic actors become more sophisticated. Now democratic institutions are able to withstand crises that would have overwhelmed them earlier. Resilient democratic institutions become elements in a positive feedback loop, producing a preponderance of positive outcomes that strengthen democracy still further. Let us consider the degree to which India and Sri Lanka conformed to this model, while Pakistan and Bangladesh did not.

In India, Jawaharlal "Pandit" Nehru played the pivotal role in India’s learning process about democratic processes and institutions. "Pandit" means teacher in Hindi, and Nehru viewed "teaching" India’s people about democracy as an important part of his life’s work. In both speeches and published writings, Nehru’s commitment to political rights, civil liberties, and universal suffrage is unequivocal. In contrast to Mahatma Gandhi, Nehru’s democratic vision was secular and secularism remains a pillar of India’s constitution this day.

Nehru’s status as leader and teacher was buttressed by the respect for authority figures that is a South Asian tradition. As Congress Party President, a post he had held since 1929, Nehru was able to maintain party unity. As Prime Minister, he was able to sustain the practice of regularly scheduled general elections without serious concern that voters would turn the Congress party out of power. His personal popularity remained high, despite some widely criticized foreign policy decisions and economic planning initiatives that failed to produce promised results. Like leaders of many developing nations, Nehru believed in socialist economics and developed strong political ties with Soviet Russia. But he always opposed the use of expedient authoritarian measures to solve India’s development problems. The belief that civil liberties and democratic practices represented the best hope for improving the well-being of India’s people was an oft repeated theme in Nehru’s writings and speeches.

S.N. Jha’s chapter makes it clear that India’s democratic institutions faced serious challenges during the period between 1964 and 1988, but also that the response to these challenges was resilient. Following Nehru’s death, it appeared that the Congress Party might succumb to fissiparous tendencies that seem pervasive in South Asian political life. Family ties, superb political skills, and toughness enabled Indira Gandhi to emerge as a successful compromise candidate for Prime Minister in 1966, following La Bahadur Shastri’s death. Her stature as leader was ratified and strengthened by overwhelming Congress Party victories in the 1971 and 1972 elections. Thus, India’s democracy was able to survive the deaths of its dominant post-independence leader and a second Prime Minister within the space of two years. Power was transferred to new leadership without resort to extraordinary procedures and legitimized by successive general election victories.

The learned practice school of democratization theorizes that uninterrupted periods of stable democratic rule make it more likely that political crises, when they occur, will be surmounted with democratic institutions intact. Moreover, successful political crisis management makes it more probable that democratic institutions will respond resiliently to subsequent crises. India’s political life from 1972 through 1988 provides several opportunities to test these hypotheses.

Jha describes processes of personalization, de-institutionalization, and a more regionally-oriented politics as threats to democratic practices during this period. Indira Gandhi’s Garibi Hatao (eliminate poverty) slogan exemplified a new political strategy of reaching out directly to the people, while relying less on formal party institutions. The de-institutionalization and resultant weakening of national-level political parties created opportunities for charismatic leaders to mobilize regional parties with more particularized, chauvinist agendas. Tamil Nerd’s Dravida Munnethra Kazhagam (Dravidian Progressive Front), led by cinema idol Mulhuvel Karunanidhi typified this trend. Jha reports that government institutions, too, became more "de-institutionalized"; that is, less politically neutral and more beholden to individual political leaders. Even the police were viewed as having a political agenda in some states, eroding their credibility with the public.

The most serious threat to India’s democracy so far, Prime Minister Indira Gandhi’s 1975 imposition of emergency rule, was at least in part a product of this new political climate. With emergency regulations extended and elections postponed by a compliant parliamentary majority, Mrs. Gandhi detained political opponents, curtailed civil liberties and implemented unpopular policies. However by this time, India’s democratic traditions had become too strong for elections to be postponed indefinitely or rigged to guarantee a Congress Party victory. In 1977, the voters expressed their disapproval of authoritarian rule, turning the party of Mahatma Gandhi and Pandit Nehru from office for the first time since independence. In 1980, a similar verdict was rendered against a squabbling anti-Congress coalition that had failed to develop stable leadership or implement effective policies. This time the party that Mrs. Gandhi led to victory was not the Congress, but the Congress (Indira), reflecting the growing strength of personalized politics. The Congress (Indira) party was sufficiently strong to survive Mrs. Gandhi’s assassination, to coalesce around Rajiv Gandhi, the remaining member of the Nehru dynasty, and to secure an additional five year mandate in the 1984 general election. In the 1980s, however, Jha concludes that India’s democracy had changed qualitatively. Opposition parties had gained strength and even a scion of the Nehru dynasty could not depend on voter loyalty.

By now, India had completed a successful "learning experience" of more than four decades. There had been eight general elections and four changes in Congress party leadership. Democratic practices had survived a period of authoritarian rule and the assassination of a top leader. India had demonstrated that socialism and democracy were not necessarily incompatible though dirigiste policies had failed to deliver sustainable economic growth. Indeed the survival of democratic practices in the face of indifferent economic performance provides further evidence of Indian democracy’s resilience.

Sri Lanka’s experience, as described by K.M. de Silva, affirms the usefulness of insights derived from the learned practice school. He particularly emphasizes the British Government’s decision to grant universal suffrage and hold three nation-wide general elections prior to independence. This established a tradition of regularly scheduled free and fair elections that remains a cornerstone of Sri Lanka’s democracy to this day. As in India, it was not until the mid-1970s that a government with authoritarian leanings tampered with the electoral mechanism by postponing elections. The Sri Lankan scenario was also similar in other respects. The tradition of free elections, now deeply rooted, proved too strong to permit an indefinite postponement or successful rigging. Shortly after India’s voters and turned Indira Gandhi out of office, Sri Lanka’s voters were given the opportunity to pass judgment on Sirima Bandaranaike’s seven years in power and the outcome was similar. In Sri Lanka, however, failed policies probably weighed more heavily than electoral tampering in the government’s defeat.

K.M. de Silva’s chapter documents the continued resiliency of Sri Lanka’s democracy in the face of additional serious challenges in the 1980s: further electoral tampering, violent ethnic conflict, and civil war. Even J.R. Jayewardene’s admirers agree that the December 1982 referendum to extend the life of Parliament for six years represented an even sharper break with Sri Lanka’s democratic traditions than the two-year postponement of general elections by Mrs. Bandaranaike’s government. Some questioned the referendum on constitutional grounds, but the conduct of the poll was even more severely criticized. This was the first national level election in which a government appears to have sanctioned widespread campaign law violations during the run-up to the election and tried systematically to rig the outcome of polling. De Silva argues that the government’s conduct of the referendum eroded the legitimacy of its overwhelming presidential election victory in October 1982.

Despite this, Jayewardene’s government was able to cling precariously to power, while facing down challenges that had led to military dictatorships or other forms of authoritarian rule in many developing nations. The June 1983 anti-Tamil riots further alienated the nation’s largest minority. These riots created a severe refugee problem, legitimized Indian support for Tamil militant groups, and swelled their cadres with disenchanted Tamil youth. By Spring 1984, anti-government Tamil forces had the capacity to mount sustained guerrilla campaigns against government forces and weakened government credibility with terrorist attacks in the heart of Colombo, the capital city. In 1987, when the military balance appeared to be tipping in favor of resurgent government forces, India’s government assumed a far from disinterested role as mediator and military "peace keeper." Indian occupation of Sri Lanka’s North and East catalyzed an urban terrorist movement that challenged government suzerainty over large areas of the rural south and periodically brought major cities to a standstill. Violent political conflict stalled economic growth, devastated a promising tourist trade, and swelled the ranks of unemployed youth.

Even during this turbulent time, the forms of Sri Lanka’s democratic government remained largely intact. Parliament, with its tiny cohort of opposition members, led ably by S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike’s son, continued to debate legislative issues and government policies. Press freedoms and protections for civil liberties were limited, but were at least endorsed as official policy. Few believed that further postponement of scheduled elections was a political option. J.R. Jayewardene’s announcement that Presidential elections would be held on December 16, 1988, initiated vigorous campaigning, despite the constant threat of terrorist attacks in many areas.

Fifty-five percent of Sri Lanka’s registered voters cast their ballots on election day, although intimidation and violence prevented more than 50 polling stations from opening. Casualties among civilians, election officials, and the security forces numbered more than 80, including 25 or more deaths. In relatively secure areas, turnouts exceeded 70 percent. Outside observers concluded that the election results, which gave Prime Minister Premadasa a 50.4 percent victory over Mrs. Bandaranaike, were basically fair and free. Members of SAARC’s observer team noted that commitment to the electoral process remained strong. "A concluding tribute must be paid to the people of Sri Lanka," the observers’ report concluded. True to their strong democratic traditions, Sri Lankans courageously asserted their right to vote in the face of fear and difficulties presented by the prevailing situation.

Sri Lanka’s learning experience began, as we have seen, with three universal suffrage elections during the pre-independence period. But in contrast to India, Sri Lanka had no charismatic leader of Gandhi’s stature; no mass-based party comparable to the India National Congress, no dominant "pandit" with an unequivocal commitment democracy, eloquently expressed. Between 1948 and 1988 Sri Lanka’s constitution, parliamentary government, guarantees of minority rights, and press freedoms proved to be less durable than those of India. Yet this does not invalidate the applicability of the "learning model" to this island nation. Between 1948 and 1971 Sri Lanka’s voters experienced seven competitive elections and five significant changes in government resulting from those elections. Thus electoral traditions had time to become well entrenched before tampering by Sirima Bandaranaike’s and J.R. Jayewardene’s governments threatened them. Moreover Sri Lanka’s citizens learned that they had the power as voters to secure benefits from government, to effect fundamental social changes and to strip power from leaders who failed to deliver. Alone among developing nations Sri Lanka was able to effect, through the ballot box, both a populist redistribution of power and, fourteen years later, fundamental land reform. Then, when government management of the economy had clearly run its course, voters were able to choose structural adjustment in a general election. From the perspective of this body of experience, Sri Lankans’ disapproval of electoral tampering and willingness to brave death threats in order to vote seems less surprising. Sri Lankan politicians also had opportunities to learn. Most important were the lessons that over the long run, popularity depended on performance and that electoral tampering was a high-risk strategy for staying in power. Political hubris characterized Sri Lankan leaders who took their popularity -- or Sri Lanka’s citizens -- for granted.

Pakistan’s "Great Leader," Mohammed Ali Jinnah saw himself as a democrat, but Muslims’ pre-independence experience with democratic institutions was disillusioning. The 1937 elections had produced Congress-dominated provincial governments. With power in hand, Congress leaders implemented a spoils system that benefited their political supporters, who were largely Hindu. They showed little inclination to share the fruits of victory with Muslims. Jinnah’s tenacious battle for an independent state was catalyzed by this experience. Having achieved this goal, Pakistan’s founder saw maintaining order and establishing unity in his geographically divided nation as first priorities.

Jinnah’s decision to be named Governor General, while Nehru chose the post of Prime Minister, is revealing. Nehru’s power was buttressed not only by overwhelming popular support, but by a highly effective grass-roots party organization. Jinnah, too, was popular, however his position, and especially the position of his closest Muslim League allies, was quite different. Mohammed Waseem reminds us that virtually all of these men were "migrants" from what was now India, and had no regional power base in Pakistan. Moreover, the Muslim League’s two most popular leaders soon left the political scene. Jinnah died less than a year after independence, and his deputy, Prime Minister Liquit Ali Khan, was felled by an assassin’s bullet in October 1951.

Lacking popular support, Pakistan’s new rulers brought a "colonial mentality" to their new responsibilities. Military officers and senior bureaucrats who were former members of the elite India Civil Service became natural allies. The Muslim League leaders had much less in common with the politicians who had won seats in the Constituent Assembly. Moreover, practical politics as well as personal philosophy pushed these three groups toward an alliance that opposed popular democracy. Muslim League leaders, as well as senior civil servants and senior military officers, were mostly Punjabis with ties to West Pakistan. East Pakistan’s Bengali population was not only more numerous, but more politically cohesive. This cohesiveness was further reinforced by Jinnah’s ill-conceived decision to mandate Urdu as Pakistan’s official language. Pakistan’s rulers believed (correctly) that any fair general election would produce two unacceptable outcomes: a Bengali Prime Minister and greater autonomy for East Pakistan. Keeping the Bengali population subservient, not strengthening democracy, became the overriding political priority of Pakistan’s government. Each act of Bengali assertiveness that capitalized on their cohesiveness and numerical superiority, using democratic institutions, pushed the Westerners closer to authoritarian rule. The principal political "learning" from Pakistan’s pre-1970 years of independence was that democratic practices and a unified state of Pakistan were incompatible. Further, Punjabis and Bengalis alike "learned" that army intervention to protect their own group’s interests and the interests of their political allies was an acceptable practice.

Details of Pakistan’s 1948-1970 political life have been described by Waseem and by Chawdury and Barman, so a brief summary here will suffice. Democratic forms survived for 11 years after independence, a period during which relations between West and East Pakistan became increasingly strained. Economic exploitation as well as political domination were divisive issues. Between 1947 and 1958, two Bengali prime ministers were removed from office by Punjabi Governors’ General. Suppression of language riots by Bengali students resulted in several deaths. East Pakistan’s United Front Government was prevented from taking office for 56 days after winning an overwhelming victory. Pakistan’s first military head of state, General Iskandir Mirza, oversaw adoption of a new constitution and consulted with the Constituent Assembly on prime ministerial appointments, however this was democracy’s last gasp. Plans to hold Pakistan’s first general election spurred the military to declare martial law. Political parties were outlawed and the recently adopted constitution suspended. Army Chief of Staff, General Mohammed Ayub Khan, was named Martial Law Administrator and General Mirza was driven into exile.

Ayub’s "basic democracies" system was partly a device to legitimize authoritarian rule, but it also reflected the military’s governance philosophy. Structured feedback from the grass-roots was viewed as a legitimate expression of popular will. "Politicians," on the other hand, were viewed as self-serving, corrupt, and divisive elements of the body politic whose intermediary role between the people and government was counterproductive. Ayub’s governance structure was soon formalized in a new constitution, but the presidential system of government provided no better solution to the nation’s most fundamental political problem than its predecessor. West Pakistan’s elite was unwilling to share power with Bengali leaders, but unable to stifle Bengali political dissent.

The final events in united Pakistan’s brief history provided a reprise, in accelerated time, of previous failed attempts to resolve the nation’s governance problems. Martial law was lifted, then reimposed by a new Martial Law Administrator, General Yahya Khan, as the intensity of mass demonstrations in East Pakistan mounted. The Bengali political leader, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, was arrested on grounds of treason, then released. In the hope that it would restore a degree of stability, General Yahya Khan authorized Pakistan’s first parliamentary general election. But the result, a clear victory for Sheikh Mujibur’s Awami League, was unacceptable. Punjabi leaders then proposed a "compromise" that would nullify the outcome. When Sheikh Mujibur refused to "compromise" he was again arrested on grounds of treason. Pakistan’s invasion, Bengali resistance, Indian intervention, and the birth of an independent Bangladesh were the final acts of an all too foreseeable tragedy.

When General Yahya Khan accepted responsibility for the loss of East Pakistan and resigned, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto became the first civilian to govern Pakistan as head of state since 1955. If Bhutto had used a learning model of governance to assess his prospects, it would have provided few grounds for optimism. Only one of his predecessors as head of state had left office voluntarily and no civilian Prime Minister had done so. Pakistan had been governed by generals for all but eight years since independence. Policy failures had forced his three immediate predecessors from office. Two had been removed or resigned following the imposition of martial law. It took Pakistan’s political leaders nine years to agree on a constitution, which was suspended after less than three years in force. Twenty-three years elapsed before Pakistan held its first general election, the outcome of which split the nation in two.

Bhutto’s initial attempts to restore civilian rule seemed promising. Within 14 months, Pakistan had a new constitution that reasserted Parliament’s role. The 1970 election had given Bhutto’s Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) an overwhelming majority in West Pakistan, providing him with a strong legislative mandate. Bhutto’s party, mobilized by populist appeals, represented a new, if still ill-defined power base in Pakistan’s political life. What Pakistan lacked, Waseem emphasizes, was the viable party organizations and traditions of mutual accommodation necessary to sustain democratic competition within a parliamentary framework. Bhutto’s political opposition, a loose confederation of the old ruling establishment, Islamic fundamentalists, and ethnic minorities attacked the government unceasingly and did their best to derail its development programs. The Prime Minister responded with repressive measures that became increasingly severe. To maintain order, he was forced to enlist the support of army officers who did not necessarily sympathize with his political agenda -- a high risk strategy. Bhutto’s party won his nation’s second parliamentary general election in 1977, but the controversial results weakened rather than strengthened his government’s mandate, as well as Pakistan’s democratic institutions. Opposition factions mobilized protests in the streets of major cities, forcing the Prime Minister to declare martial law. Army Chief of Staff, General Zia ul Haq waited less than three months before emulating his predecessors as Martial Law Administrator by removing Bhutto from office. This ended Pakistan’s brief experiment with populist politics, and restored the army-bureaucracy-business coalition that had governed since independence to power. When General Zia’s government hanged Bhutto for murder in August of 1979, he may still have been Pakistan’s most popular politician.

Though election results had once again been set aside and a civilian government driven from power, Waseem asserts that a combination of international pressures and domestic attitudes still gave democratic governance a residual legitimacy in Pakistan. Thus, in 1985 Zia chose to repeat Ayub Khan’s "democratic" experiment by holding elections under controlled conditions, with political parties banned. Waseem believes that had Pakistan not been a "front line state" for the United States in its proxy war against Soviet-dominated Afghanistan, moves toward partial democracy might have come sooner.

Further relaxations of authoritarian rule -- naming a civilian Prime Minister, lifting martial law, and legalizing political parties -- followed, though Zia and the army remained firmly in control. How the scenario would have unfolded if Zia had not died in an airplane crash in 1988 is difficult to judge. Changes in the international climate were by this time altering the balance of forces that reinforced and threatened democracy in South Asian nations. Before considering the changing international climate’s impact, however, the applicability of our "learning model" to independent Bangladesh needs to be considered.

Prior to 1971, of course, Pakistan and Bangladesh had the same central government. The post-independence legacy summarized above -- postponed elections, military dominance, and irregular transfers of political power -- was shared by both. But provincial politics in East Pakistan was quite different from the West. East Pakistan’s Bengali population was united by a common language, by the shared experience of discrimination, and eventually by an effectively-led mass-based political party, the Awami League. Political leaders had strong local roots, in contrast to West Pakistan’s ruling elite. East Pakistan had nothing equivalent to the military-bureaucracy-business coalition that dominated in the West. Further, Bengalis had learned that elections could be a meaningful vehicle for expressing political power and threatening Punjabi dominance. The overwhelming United Front victory in the 1954 provincial elections was a powerful political statement that raised doubts about Pakistan’s unity and began pushing the Westerners inexorably toward authoritarian, military rule. As we have seen, fear of holding general elections under Pakistan’s newly adopted 1956 Constitution was a major factor contributing to Ayub Khan’s seizure of power. An Awami League victory in the 1970 parliamentary elections set events in train that led to an independent Bangladesh. Thus two major lessons from East Pakistan’s pre- independence political learning experience were the acceptability of military intervention and the power of elections.

A third lesson -- that political street demonstrations could pressure and even depose authoritarian rulers when legitimate political expressions failed -- was equally important. Beginning with the 1952 anti-Urdu demonstrations, Bengalis were often in the streets expressing opposition to central government measures and demanding political rights. Following Pakistan’s unsuccessful war with India over Kashmir, the demands of Bengali opposition leaders became increasingly strident. Street demonstrations, and the government’s inability to contain them, helped precipitate Sheikh Mujibur’s release from prison, Ayub Khan’s resignation, and General Yahya Kahn’s ill-fated decision to hold the 1970 parliamentary general elections.

Like post-civil war Pakistan, Bangladesh began its independent political life governed by a popularly elected leader who claimed to support parliamentary democracy. But with West Pakistan’s oppression removed, Bengali unity fractured. Perhaps no government could have dealt effectively with the challenges the new nation immediately faced -- poverty, economic stagnation, a primitive infrastructure, and periodic, devastating floods. Sheikh Mujibur’s government compounded problems of inexperience with rampant patronage politics, alienating and radicalizing opponents. Opposition factions soon mobilized, using the same tactics that had proved effective in weakening West Pakistan’s control. Parliamentary paralysis, coupled with mounting terrorist attacks and street demonstrations raised questions about Sheikh Mujibur’s ability to govern. The disillusioned independence leader’s response resembled that of Iskandir Mirza, Ayub Khan, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, and Zia ul Haq when faced with similar threats. He declared martial law, created a strong presidency, and attempted to paralyze opposition forces by abolishing political parties. It is not difficult to see why Chawdury and Barman choose the label Subversion and Decline of Democracy to characterize this period.

An assassin’s bullet resolved the question of whether Bangladesh would be governed by a civilian or military autocrat. Following a 20-month interregnum, Sheikh Mujibur’s de facto successor, Army Chief of Staff General Zia-ur-Rahman assumed the presidency. Two military leaders, General Zia and General Hossain Mohammad Ershad, would govern Bangladesh, with only a brief civilian interlude, until December 1990.

It is easy to draw parallels between military-dominated Pakistan and military-dominated Bangladesh. That military leaders would continue to dominate the political life of both nations after 1971 is hardly surprising, and is consistent with the learning model. However the character of military rule in the two nations differed, in ways the "learning model" suggests might be the case. Two characteristics of pre-1970 Bengali political life that we noted as distinctive -- the importance given to elections and the use of street demonstrations as an opposition tactic -- continued to loom large after 1970.

The number of elections held in Bangladesh and the use of elections by military leaders to try to legitimize their power are both striking. Between 1973 and 1988 nine nation-wide elections were held: four parliamentary elections, three presidential elections, and two national referenda. In comparison, during the same period Sri Lanka’s voters went to the polls for national elections only four times. India held only three general elections. Pakistan, too, held three general elections. Seven of Bangladesh’s elections were called the during periods of military rule and each of these were criticized by opponents as rigged. To be sure, losers were likely to challenge the fairness of any election, but in some instances the rigging was obvious. General Zia won a referendum held to endorse his assumption of the Presidency by an improbable 99.8 percent "yes" vote. His victory margin in a somewhat more legitimate election held in the following year -- martial law had been lifted, there were opposition candidates, and they were permitted to campaign -- was nearly 77 percent. After seizing power in a bloodless coup, General Ershad also won a 1985 referendum and a 1986 presidential election by overwhelming majorities. His party claimed 153 of 300 seats in a parliamentary election. Government and opposition estimates of turnout in these elections varied by as much as 80 percentage points. The supposedly neutral Election Commission was widely viewed as a pro-government. Such elections contributed little toward their intended result -- enhancing the legitimacy of leaders who had gained power irregularly.

Beginning with the 1986 presidential election, an increasingly unified opposition led by Sheikh Mujibur’s daughter, Sheikh Hasena, and General Zia’s widow, Begum Khalida Zia, had committed themselves to a strategy of political demonstrations and election boycotts to drive Ershad from office. The ultimate success of their campaign once again demonstrated the power of mass political demonstrations. Opposition parties staged a succession of hartals and political protests, demonstrating that they were able to disrupt elections and bring major cities to a standstill, almost at will. In a manner reminiscent of General Yahya Khan’s inconsistent stance toward Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, General Ershad vacillated between repression and conciliation in a fruitless attempt to restore order and retain power. Opposition leaders were interned and then released. Martial law was imposed, lifted, and then imposed again.

When voters stayed away from the polls in the 1988 general election, which Ershad’s Jatiya party again won by a large majority, the initiative had clearly shifted to the opposition. Now almost any day could be marred by a some political demonstration supporting the opposition party coalition’s demands for the Ershad government’s resignation, followed by free elections. Moreover, the international climate was changing. The end of the Cold War meant that Western nations no longer felt compelled to prop up authoritarian regimes that opposed Communism. An increasingly globalized economy, coupled with the influential role of multilateral donor agencies, especially the IMF and World Bank, gave Western nations leverage to pressure national leaders who were perceived as blatantly anti-democratic. It was clear that General Ershad’s days were numbered. The reckoning occurred in December 1990 when Ershad resigned, paving the way for free elections administered by a caretaker government. But whether a government in power would hold fair elections in Bangladesh and whether losers would accept the result peacefully were still very much open questions.

We have seen that in both Bangladesh and Pakistan, international actors began to exert pressure on the side of anti-democratic forces, beginning in the late 1980s. These interventions are instances of what Laurence Whitehead’s chapter terms "international processes of support and interaction." Whitehead emphases that these processes have always been "selective and contingent," but their number has increased greatly, following the end of the Cold War. In the next section of this paper, we offer evidence to support his hypothesis that a model combining international support and domestic "consent" best explains transitions to democracy in South Asia. But to show that international climactic changes are pivotal to understanding post 1988 transitions, we must first demonstrate that prior to 1988, Western democracies and other international actors did little to support pro-democracy forces in South Asia.

This is not difficult. Most revealing, perhaps, is the relationship between the South Asian nation most dominated by the military, Pakistan, and the world’s democratic superpower, the United States. Pakistan was the only South Asian nation to join two US-initiated collective security organizations, CENTO and SEATO, and became the US’s closest ally in the region. US leaders viewed Pakistan as a counterweight to India, which had become a leader in the anti-colonialist Non-aligned Movement and strengthened its ties with Russia. When General Yahya Kahn jailed Sheikh Mujibur and ordered his troops to crush the Bengali independence movement, US President Richard Nixon and National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger stood firmly with their ally. At the time Pakistan’s leader was playing a key role as intermediary between the US and China. Simultaneously, the world’s press was carrying accounts of crimes against humanity, perpetrated by Yahya’s troops in East Pakistan. According to biographer Walter Isaacson, the US "tilt" toward Pakistan in the conflict illustrated two basic themes of Kissinger’s diplomacy: "the primacy of realism over moral concerns and the tendency to see disputes through the prism of the Soviet-American competition." US President Carter’s government claimed to be more principled and had begun to press Pakistan on human rights issues, but it became more accommodating following the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Soon, General Zia’s government had become the major conduit of CIA purchased arms to Afghanistan’s Mujahadeen resistance movement. President Carter’s successor, Ronald Reagan, concluded a six-year $3.2 billion arms and economic aid package with Pakistan in 1981, making it the third largest recipient of US security assistance, after Egypt and Israel.

A discussion of relations between democratic nations of the West and other South Asian nations would stray beyond the purposes of this paper. Suffice it to say that we have found no published scholarship, focusing the pre-1988 period, which suggests that the democratic or non-democratic character of a South Asian regime was seriously weighed in Great Power foreign policy decision-making. The case of US - Pakistani relations is a useful exemplar because it highlights so sharply the willingness of the world’s democratic superpower to intervene, in pursuit of geostrategic interests, on behalf of anti-democratic forces. Additional cases, both in South Asia and elsewhere, would convey the same message.

Before leaving this topic, we should ask whether supporting democracy was a foreign policy goal of South Asia’s democratic hegemon, India, during the Cold War era. There is no evidence that this was the case. Like other major powers India’s relations with its South Asian neighbors have been primarily guided by geostrategic interests. Prime Minister Nehru’s concept of Non-Alignment, which gained international visibility at the 1955 Bandung Conference, was anti-colonial, not pro-democratic. Non-Alignment meant avoiding political ties with the world’s two superpowers. Nehru’s co-founders of the Non-Alignment Movement, Presidents Nasser and Tito, were arguably popular figures in their own nations, but military dictators nonetheless. Nor did Non-Alignment mean neutrality; Nehru was clear that India would be guided by national self-interest in foreign policy decision-making and this would include the use of India’s growing military capabilities, where appropriate. When India’s leaders did choose to become more closely aligned with a superpower, it was the USSR, not the US, that was chosen.

Where regional hegemonic dominance was at state, India’s stance was uncompromising and questions of democratization irrelevant. Following Bangladesh’s second military coup in 1975, Prime Minister Indira Gandhi declared:

Later, Bhabani Sen Gupta elaborated what was sometimes characterized as the "Indira doctrine." External intervention in any South Asian nation with an "implicit or explicit anti-Indian implication" would not be tolerated. If a South Asian nation needed external help to deal with an internal conflict situation, "exclusion of India from such a contingency" would be viewed as an "anti-Indian move."

India’s intervention in the internal affairs of her Sri Lankan neighbor to the South reinforces this point, while offering a counterexample to the assertion found in a growing body of literature that relations between democratic nations tend to be more pacific than those in which non-democratic nations are involved. Despite Indian disavowals, two book-length studies and a number of shorter articles have made this story well-known to South Asian scholars. Beginning in the 1970s, political leaders in Tamil Nadu state had offered sanctuary to Sri Lankan Tamil militants who were agitating for an independent state they called Tamil Eelam. Militant terrorist attacks against security forces and government installations in Sri Lanka’s North escalated during the early years of J.R. Jayewardene’s presidency, heightening ethnic tensions in the South. These tensions boiled over in July 1983, when militants gunned down an army patrol and Sinhalese mobs retaliated by unleashing a devastating pogrom against their Tamil neighbors. Both India’s central government and the government of Tamil Nadu responded by providing facilities for Tamil refugees. In addition, these governments became actively involved in Sri Lanka’s civil war by establishing training camps and providing weapons to several thousand Tamil youths who now flocked to the militant cause.

Both personal and geopolitical considerations motivated Mrs. Gandhi’s government to collaborate in what became a successful effort to destabilize a neighboring democratic state. Covert support for Tamil militants continued throughout the 1980s. In 1987, Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi intervened more directly to halt a promising Sri Lankan military offensive against Tamil guerrillas on the Jaffna peninsula. President Jayewardene was forced to accept India’s good offices as a mediator and the dispatch of a "Peace Keeping Force" which established effective sovereignty over Sri Lanka’s Tamil majority regions. Gandhi’s government also forced significant foreign policy concessions on Jayewardene. India’s intervention catalyzed a second insurrection by the Buddhist Militant Janata Vimukti Peramuna (People’s Liberation Front) that nearly toppled Jayewardene’s government and the democratically elected government of his successor, Ranasinghe Premadasa. This was the severest test that Sri Lanka’s resilient democratic institutions, so eloquently described by K. M. de Silva, had faced since independence. Moreover there can be no doubt about India’s anti-democratic stance. While successive Sri Lankan governments had shortcomings in the areas of human and minority rights, not even the most generous interpretation of the term democratic could be applied the groups that India supported and trained.

The message of this section is clear and reinforces our earlier conclusions about usefulness of the "learning model." India and Sri Lanka evolved stable, resilient democracies in an international climate that was indifferent, at best, to "democratization." Democratic nations, including India itself, were as likely to intervene in support of authoritarian governments and factions as democratic ones.

There have been few eras in human history when the international political climate changed as fundamentally as in the years immediately following 1988. While highlights of this tumultuous period are easy to recall, it is easy to forget the magnitude of the changes and the number of nations impacted. When 1988 began, the USSR still dominated Eastern Europe, was an influential player in the Middle East, and had patron-client relationships or close ties with more than a dozen Third World nations. Communism was still viewed as an alternative to democratic capitalism for Third World nations. The United States, as we have seen, was as likely to prop up authoritarian regimes as pro-democracy forces. When 1991 ended, the USSR had been replaced by the Commonwealth of Independent States and the Russian tricolor (minus the Romanov crest) flew over the Kremlin. The Eastern European and Baltic States, now independent, had begun experiments with democratic capitalism. North Korea and Cuba had been cut loose to fend for themselves economically. For all but radical fringe factions, Communism seemed discredited, both politically and economically, as a development option.

The United States of America, now freed of Cold War pressures and preeminent, both militarily and economically, began to promote democratic capitalism. The "democratization initiative," based on the learning model we have described above, became a showpiece program of the US Agency for International Development. In Panama, a small nation clearly within its sphere of influence, US military forces intervened to secure the results of a free election and remove military dictator Manuel Noriega, a former CIA employee, from power. Later, the threat of a US invasion, under United Nations auspices, pressured Haitian military dictator Raoul Cedras into exile. In Nicaragua, Communist Dictator Daniel Ortega not only accepted the "Arias Plan" for free elections but agreed to accept the result when he lost. US interventions were not an unalloyed success story, however. A disastrous "nation building" initiative in Somalia gave US leaders and the US public a sharp reminder of military power’s limits in complex political settings.

One of the most remarkable political transformations, the ending of apartheid in South Africa, owed little to the United States, but was clearly impacted by the Cold War’s end. South Africa’s economy was buffeted by economic sanctions and its international pariah image. Tarring Nelson Mandela’s African National Congress with the "Communist" label was no longer effective. Pressured by his own business community and narrowing options, a courageous President F.W. de Klerk released Nelson Mandela from prison and began negotiations. Three years later, South Africa had held its first truly democratic election and Mandela was elected President.

While numerous nations embarked on democratic experiments, the trend was not universal. In 1989, China seemed poised to move toward political liberalization, but Communist Party leaders showed that they had the political will and disciplined military forces necessary to shatter the pro-democracy movement at Tiananmen Square. Burma’s military regime held relatively free elections but imposed draconian repressive measures on supporters of the winning party in order to remain in power. Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore held regularly scheduled elections, but these "Asian models," which emphasized community values, public order, and economic prosperity, limited political rights and offered opponents little real chance of winning. The norm in most Middle East nations was some combination of military dictatorship and monarchy. Fear of Islamic fundamentalism appeared to be replacing fear of Communism as a concern that buttressed authoritarian regimes and stifled democratic initiatives. It is important to remind ourselves of these cases before turning again to South Asia. The democratizing trends our contributors describe in Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Nepal, and even the continued resilience of democracy in India and Sri Lanka were not -- and are not -- inevitable.

Lawrence Whitehead emphasizes the non-inevitability of democratizing trends. He argues that simple models of democratic transition, emphasizing "contagion" and "control," appear to offer some explanatory power but are not sufficient. Domestic as well as international forces must be taken into account. Internal democratization that takes root requires positive support from varied social groupings, "sustained over time and in the face of diverse uncertainties." This support must be based on "consent," that is it must be freely given. Thus, to explain democratic transitions, we must understand the mechanisms by which changes in the international climate manifest themselves as pressures for change impinging on domestic actors. Furthermore we must understand how interactions between international pressures and domestic processes manifest themselves in changed domestic political climates.

To assess the impact of a changed international climate on democratizing trends in individual nations, we must be more specific. Whitehead distinguishes between "international structures" and "international demonstration effects" as sources of democratizing pressures that seem particularly relevant to South Asia. He offers "regional blocs" as one example of international structures. A more comprehensive list might also include bilateral and multilateral donors, international media organizations such as the Cable News Network (CNN), and organizations that support an evolving international human rights regime.

Democratizing trends of the late 1980s described above are among the most important international demonstration effects. For Asians, the toppling of Ferdinand Marcos’ martial law regime by "people power", along with moves toward democratic liberalization in Taiwan and South Korea, were close-to-home examples. Whitehead notes that these democratizations are likely to have greater impact, "now that the only serious competitor for international allegiances [the Soviet Union] has crumbled from within." He also warns that international demonstration effects may be a mixed blessing for pro-democracy forces. Since they have created "an almost universal wish to imitate a way of life associated with the liberal capitalist democracies," the social and institutional foundations of fragile democracies that fail to deliver this way of life may be undermined and the idea of democracy itself may be delegitimized.

How have pressures from international structures and international demonstration effects interacted with domestic forces to produce democratic change in Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Nepal? The evidence offered by our contributors lends support to Whitehead’s views.

Pakistan’s 1988 general election was a landmark step for a nation that had seen little democracy since independence. Waseem emphasizes the influence of "world opinion" and "world pressure" on the decision to hold the election as well as on President Ishaq’s subsequent decision name to Benazir Bhutto as Prime Minister. Pakistan’s government had also invited the US National Democratic Institute to review its electoral laws prior to the polls. The actual voting was monitored by international observers, a first for Pakistan. Observers were also present for the 1990 election. Mixed reviews of the two elections made it clear that democratic institutions were still fragile. Nonetheless Pakistan did achieve a more or less regularized transfer of political power from one civilian government to another, arguably the first since independence.

How do Whitehead’s views about "consent" help us to understand these events? First they remind us that multi-party elections would not have been possible if support for the Pakistan People’s Party and to a lesser degree, for other factions, had not survived the execution of Zulficar Ali Bhutto and the imposition of martial law. Pakistan’s authoritarian governments were unable to stamp out the incubus of political parties or the popular legitimacy conferred on governments by elections.

In the post-Cold War era, growing links between Pakistan’s business community and the global economy have indirectly supported pro-democracy forces. Along with bureaucrats and the military, business leaders are influential members of the establishment. Business people are not necessarily democrats; political stability, a robust currency and a favorable investment climate are their primary goals. By 1988, however, the once popular view that military leaders could provide effective economic leadership, not tainted by corruption, was given little credence by managers of international finance capital and multinational corporations. Thus, overt military rule and egregious human rights violations were likely to deter foreign investment, with adverse domestic economic consequences. Pakistan’s business leaders and their allies faced a difficult challenge. On the one hand, the international climate mandated support for democratic institutions and at least rhetorical commitment to human rights. On the other hand, investors required a degree of social order, predictability, and transparency. With democratic institutions still fragile, divisive factionalism, political violence, populistic excesses, and governmental inefficiencies were constant threats to social order and economic performance.

The political system of Pakistan conforms to what Giovanni Sartori defined as polarized pluralism. Polarization is fragmentation of a party system characterized by ideological distance. If parties are fragmented (more than five parties) but not polarized by ideology, then the system would be one of moderate pluralism. However, if the polity is both fragmented and polarized ideologically, polarized pluralism results. One distinctive feature of such a system is the existence of anti-system parties. Such parties do not share the values of the ruling political order, question the legitimacy of the regime they oppose, and thus undermine its base of support. Another distinctive feature is the presence of irresponsible oppostitions. As Sartori explains, if an opposition party expects that it may have to deliver on its promises, it will behave responsibly. If peripheral parties are not likely to obtain meaningful political power, they engage instead in politics of outbidding, in which they make unrealistic promises in order to win. This is contrary to the rules of fair competition found in non-polarized polities that engage in competitive politics.

Mohammad Waseem makes it clear that Pakistan’s nascent democracy is still in a transitional stage and the end point of transition is as yet unclear. Political parties remain weak. Polarized competition between establishment and anti-establishment forces inhibits the political accommodations necessary in a resilient democracy. Interactions between politicians, military leaders, and bureaucrats are often turbulent: these segments of Pakistan’s society have not institutionalized effective working relationships. Were the international climate to change, the domestic balance of forces might once again shift toward authoritarianism.

However, if one seeks optimistic harbingers, our "learning model" provides some. After being removed from office Benazir Bhutto returned to power via a general election victory in 1993. In 1995, her government survived widespread ethnic violence and the threat of a military coup by pro-Islamic officers. When she was removed from power in 1996 it was by constitutional means. In 1997, Pakistan held its fourth relatively free and competitive election since 1988. Between 1947 and 1988, as we have seen, the nation had only held three elections that approximated these criteria. Shortly after the election, Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif’s new government passed the 8th Amendment to Pakistan’s constitution, limiting the power of the President to remove a sitting Prime Minster from office.

Democratizing forces in Bangladesh, as in Pakistan, benefited from an international climate that discredited military authoritarianism. In contrast to Pakistan, however, strong political parties and a nascent civil society played influential roles in the democratization process. Chawdury and Barman describe how the Bangladesh National Party-Awami league alliance repeatedly frustrated attempts of General Ershad’s beleaguered government to legitimize itself through rigged elections. Professional and student groups backed opposition demands, using the time-honored Bangladeshi political tactic -- street demonstrations. When President Ershad responded with repressive measures, international donors and non-governmental organizations communicated their concerns, both publicly and to the government. With Bangladesh’s economy so heavily dependent on international support, these representations provided high leverage on the side of the pro-democratic forces. In December 1990, President Ershad was forced to accede to opposition demands by relinquishing power to a caretaker government. This set the stage for Bangladesh’s first internationally monitored election and its first transfer of power to a popularly elected leader, Begum Khalida Zia. Abolition of the strong presidency and re-establishment of parliamentary government soon followed.

Bangladesh’s democracy, like that of Pakistan is still in a transitional phase, with international forces continuing to exert pro-democracy leverage. Chawdury and Barman emphasize the importance of institutionalizing the rule of law, developing a more effective economic policy, creating a tradition of tolerance, and controlling political thuggery. Recent developments indicate that building trust in the electoral process, long tainted by pro-government rigging, remains a serious problem.

Along with the tradition of expressing political dissent in the streets, this may help explain the reluctance of Bangladesh’s political parties to accept election defeats. Thus, two years after Begum Khalida Zia’s general election victory, supporters of her former ally, Sheikh Hasena, were once again demonstrating and striking to enforce demands that Khalida’s government resign. Sporadic protests continued to disrupt society and cripple the economy throughout 1994 and 1995. When Khalida Zia dissolved parliament and called for general elections in 1996, the opposition expressed its lack of faith that a sitting government could hold a fair election by boycotting the polls. As in 1991, the mechanism of a caretaker government, headed by a Supreme Court Chief Justice was required to hold a general election in which the opposition parties would participate. In this election, with 73 percent of the eligible voters participating, Sheikh Hasena’s Awami League gained a plurality but not a majority in Parliament. To win a majority, she formed an alliance with the Jatiya party of former dictator Hossein Mohammad Ershad. In a continued pro-democracy international climate, it appeared that Bangladesh’s learning process about democratic institutions might continue.

Nepal represents a particularly interesting case because of the near absence of democratic traditions prior to 1990 and the apparently smooth transition to democracy afterwards. Lok Raj Baral reports that apart from a brief democratic experiment in the 1950s, Nepal’s monarchical, patrimonial, and feudal traditions had remained intact since the unification of the country in 1768. The Panchayat system of one-party rule, affirmed by referendum in 1980, was little more than a legitimizing device for the monarchy and Nepal’s traditional elite. As in Pakistan and Bangladesh, active support from regional and international powers helped to sustain authoritarian rule. Indira Gandhi’s government secretly provided arms and training to Nepal’s army, and political activities of dissident Nepali political leaders living in India were severely curtailed. International donors "competed through their various projects to become a top donor of the regime." US foreign aid was specifically targeted at strengthening the Panchayat system.

According to Baral, changes in the international climate were pivotal in revitalizing Nepal’s relatively passive opposition parties, the Nepali Congress and the United Left Front. The rise of Mikhail Gorbachev and democratization in Eastern Europe had "electrifying effects" in Nepal. Opposition leaders mounted well-publicized international campaigns protesting human rights violations and calling for democratic reforms. Though Nepal was a poor and relatively isolated country, it was also the preferred destination for wealthy international tourists with media visibility, some of whom supported the international campaigns. The letter sent by US Senators Edward Kennedy and Stephen Solarz to King Birendra, urging the King to look into charges that deadly weapons were being used against pro-democracy demonstrators, is illustrative of this international attention. At the same time, Rajiv Gandhi’s government imposed economically crippling sanctions in retaliation for a Sino-Nepali arms deal. Gandhi’s successor, Chandra Sekhar, actively supported the Nepali opposition leaders. The successful Nepali Congress conference of January 1990, though initially derided by establishment forces, provided evidence that the opposition was now broad-based, relatively united, and internationally visible. With economic hardships mounting, popular support for the government was further diminished by charges of corruption and cronyism. Thus we see once again in Nepal the confluence of international and domestic forces that Whitehead regards as key to many democratic transitions.

Though international and domestic anti-government pressures were strong, King Birendra’s decision to position the monarchy on the side of democratic forces represented a remarkable shift. The importance of royal backing for Nepal’s new constitution and parliamentary government can not be underestimated. Obviously democratic traditions are not yet deeply rooted in Nepal. Factional squabbling between political leaders maneuvering for power, along with abusive and divisive campaigning, have been as prevalent in Nepal as in most new democracies. Baral emphasizes that civil society is weak and unlikely to resist serious attacks on democracy. Whether democratic governments will be more successful in providing economic opportunities than the panchayat system is still an open question.

Nonetheless, Nepal’s democracy has been the most stable of the three transitional nations we have examined. Under the umbrella of legitimacy the monarchy provides, political parties appear to have accepted the norms of parliamentary government, including the handing over of power. Thus Prime Minister G.P. Koirala resigned in 1994 when a factional split in his party produced a no confidence vote in Parliament. When a Communist-led coalition won the subsequent general election, Communist Party leader Man Mohan Adhikari was asked by the King to form a new government. Adhikari, in turn, relinquished power to NCP leader Sher Bahadur Deuba, after losing a vote of confidence. Most recently (in October 1997) Surya Bahadur Thapa, a leader under the old Panchayat system, succeeded in assembling a majority coalition based on his National Democratic party, and became Prime Minister. Thus, all of Nepal’s three major political parties has now been given the opportunity to govern, for at least a brief period of time. The learning model of democratization suggests that each regularized, peaceful transfer of power increases the probability that future transfers, too, will be regularized and peaceful.

As would have been expected, both India’s and Sri Lanka’s democratic institutions continued to exhibit resiliency in the more pro-democracy post-Cold War international climate. India faced the assassination of Rajiv Gandhi, rising ethnic tensions, and recurrent difficulties in forming a government with stable parliamentary support. The pro-Hindu BJP party showed increasing strength as the Congress and other secular parties to failed to resolve factional squabbling between rival leaders. Political parties with charismatic leaders and regional agendas appeared to be winning increased voter support, a phenomenon noted by S.N. Jha. Parliamentary elections in 1991 and 1996 failed to produce a clear mandate. On the other hand, India’s democratic institutions seemed firmly rooted, and despite governmental instability the nation appeared to be making steady progress toward reforming its economy.

K.M. de Silva details the survival of the Sri Lanka democratic system in the face of strains from prolonged periods of ethnic strife, and the consequences of the internationalization of ethnic conflict. When the nation held parliamentary and presidential elections in December 1988 and January 1989, Indian troops were occupying the Island’s northeast. Tamil Tiger guerrillas were entrenched in jungle hideouts and mainland safe havens. Militant JVP guerrillas controlled many rural areas and could bring the capital city to a standstill with threats of violence. Sri Lanka’s once vibrant economy had been devastated. Within three years, the nation’s top combat general and four of its top political leaders, including the President, had been assassinated. However during these turbulent times, Indian troops departed the island and government forces defeated the JVP. Following President Premadasa’s death, an orderly transfer of power to a new president followed constitutional procedures. President D.B. Wijetunge and Prime Minister Ranil Wickremasinghe moved firmly, if not always effectively, to rein in security force abuses that had gotten out of hand during the crises of the Premadasa era. Parliamentary and presidential elections were held on schedule in 1994, producing a parliamentary majority and popular mandate for the new leader, Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga. Both Sri Lanka’s governmental institutions and its political parties exhibited a remarkable capacity to survive in the face of adversity.

Partha Ghosh argues convincingly that Bhutan may be a special case. Bhutan’s Drukpa majority appears to exhibit little interest in democratization. Agitation for "democratic reforms" comes almost entirely from the Lhotsampa (Nepalese) minority. Passage of the Citizenship Act and introduction of the Driglam Namzha (national code of conduct) in 1989 raised Lhotsampa fears about their rights as Bhutanese citizens. However there is no broad-based opposition movement. The Bhutan People’s Party is predominately an exile organization, founded and based in India.

King Jigme Singye Wangchuk’s government has been subjected to some international pressure in the post-Cold War era. There were visits by Amnesty International and a SAARC Jurists’ Mission in 1992. In 1994, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees issued a critical report on the status of Lhotsampa refugees living in India and Nepal. As of 1996, there had been seven inconclusive ministerial meetings between Bhutan and Nepal regarding the citizenship and status of the refugees, who may number as many as 100,000.

Bhutan’s international position differs greatly from that of Nepal, however. The nation’s total population is less than 1.6 million, tourism is negligible, and links with the global economy are few. In contrast to Nepal, Bhutan has been a compliant ally of India and serves as a useful buffer state between India and China. India has no reason to destabilize Bhutan and has we have seen, geostrategic concerns have dominated democratic values in India’s foreign policy. Moreover it is hard to envision a set of viable democratic institutions for Bhutan that would benefit the Lhotsampas. If Laurence Whitehead were to examine this case he would probably argue that there is an insufficient domestic base of support for democracy in Bhutan. Thus, even strong international pressure would be unlikely to produce the "consent" needed for a democratic transition.

This examination of democratic transitions in Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Nepal, along with the resiliency of democratic institutions in India and Sri Lanka, has provided an answer to the second question we posed in the introduction: What are the relative importance of international and domestic causes in explaining the survival of democratic regimes and the more recent transitions from authoritarian regimes to democratic ones? A more pro-democracy international climate was a necessary condition for South Asian democratic transitions, but not a sufficient condition. Over time, democratic institutions in our three transitional nations may become sufficiently rooted to withstand a less benign international climate. India and Sri Lanka provide evidence that this is possible. In the short term, however, a return to some new form of superpower geostrategic competition would probably place democratic reforms in jeopardy.

A partial answer to the third question -- How can leaders of older democracies, multilateral agencies, and non-governmental agencies support effectively such transitions? -- can also be found in the experiences of Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Nepal. Where a nation has some democratic traditions and an authoritarian government feels some need for popular legitimacy, international opposition to overt forms of authoritarianism and support for human rights can be helpful. Contributors to this volume report that all three transitional nations were responsive to "international pressure." Election monitoring, too, appears to be a useful tool for jump-starting the democratization process where the idea of elections already has some legitimacy. The availability of monitors, including South Asian monitors provided by SAARC, appears to have made a real difference at pivotal moments.

"Technical support" for an independent judiciary may also be an effective strategy. India’s relatively independent judicial institutions have played a key role in supporting the nation’s constitution and curbing political excesses. In other nations, where the judiciary has been more politicized, people have nonetheless shown a degree of respect for judicial institutions. In Sri Lanka, a favorable Supreme Court decision helped to legitimize the establishment of Provincial Councils. In Bangladesh, the opposition turned to Supreme Court justices on two occasions to head pre-election caretaker governments. In Nepal, a newly constituted Supreme Court overruled King Birendra’s 1995 decision to dissolve Parliament and the King accepted the decision.

Finally, where a nation’s economy is closely linked to the global economy, international business leaders may play a supportive role. Not only can they oppose authoritarian excesses, as in Pakistan, they can favor regimes that are striving for transparency, fighting corruption, and supporting judicial enforcement of fair business practices.

While there is much that the international community can do, there are also limits, as our cases make clear. The international community’s leverage will be limited if the people of a nation attach little value to democratic traditions, if a viable opposition movement is lacking, and if the country has few links with the international economy. Some of these considerations help explain why international pressure contributed to a democratic transformation in Nepal, but has had little impact in neighboring Bhutan. Further, we need to remind ourselves that some regimes may be able to resist even strong democratizing pressures for extended periods of time. We are referring to authoritarian regimes that are indifferent to popular support, willing to accept devastation of the domestic economy, and committed to retaining power at all costs. Regimes that exemplify this type include Iraq and North Korea; also Myanmar and Cuba, though to a somewhat lesser degree.

Finally, we have learned from South Asia’s experience that international pressure may catalyze a democratic transition, but its influence on the ultimate form of democratic institutions and the quality of political life will be more limited. International pressure helped bring Benazir Bhutto to power, but could not guarantee that she would rule effectively. International pressure helped persuade M.H. Ershad to resign, but could not dissuade Begum Khalida Zia’s supporters from trying to rig an election, nor Sheikh Hasena from mobilizing her supporters in the streets of Dhaka. International pressure cannot ensure that governments will be stable, that politicians will not squabble, that campaigns will not be divisive, or that political competition will not bring out the worst as well as the best in a nation’s people. Since even democracies of long standing exhibit such traits, this is hardly surprising. The learning process through which democratic institutions are rooted takes time, may never be "completed," and is likely to be turbulent.