EVENTS in Pakistan look more disconcerting with each new development. On January 15th the Supreme Court launched its latest attack on the civilian government of President Asif Zardari, over a long-running corruption case. Because the president is immune from prosecution but is accused of serious graft, the court has instead repeatedly gone after his successive prime ministers. The court has now ordered the arrest of the current one, Raja Pervez Ashraf, and 15 other individuals, over allegations that Mr Ashraf took bribes while he was minister for power and water a couple of years ago. Whatever the truth of those allegations, that order would under any circumstances have been seen as populist and provocative, coming shortly before an election, supposed to happen by May this year, in which Pakistani voters have a chance to kick the ruling rascals out. What makes it far more combustible is the timing and the context: it comes just as Pakistan is transfixed by a march organised by a populist cleric, Tahir-ul Qadri, who is now encamped in Islamabad with some 60,000 supporters. Such a rally in the national capital has not been allowed for decades. Mr Qadri had made his way to the capital from Lahore in Punjab on January 14th in a convoy of buses and trucks, in what he claimed would be a near uprising of “millions” of supporters. That the numbers were, in fact, relatively paltry seems not to have mattered. Nor does it seem important that his demands have been various and changing. At times he suggests that the election should be delayed, at others that stricter conditions should be imposed for ensuring parliamentary candidates are not crooks. He talks of the need to fight terrorism properly, to oppose extremism, the need to tackle poverty and much else. Most telling and consistent, however, are his repeated assaults on elected politicians (in a long speech on January 15th he called the parliament, just behind him, “fake”) and his lauding of the men in uniform and the judiciary. Just two institutions in Pakistan are worthy of respect, he suggests, the army (for its “sincere” fight against terrorists) and the judges. None should doubt who has been encouraging his march. The Supreme Court's move against the prime minister, minutes after Mr Qadri stopped speaking, gives the impression that the army, the judges and the cleric have co-ordinated their punches.

Some in Mr Qadri’s entourage were already talking up the idea of a “soft intervention” by the army in Pakistani politics on January 13th, in Lahore, just before his march began. Others say that Pakistan may now be undergoing a sort of judicial coup, known as the “Bangladesh option”, after judges and the army in that country suspended party-politics for two years from January 2007. (Such ideas have been doing the rounds for at least the past two years in Pakistan). If so, Mr Qadri may be a helpful frontman, as a moderate, liberal, returnee from Canada, who talks repeatedly of respect for the law, democracy and the constitution—even as he seeks to undermine them.

Does a Bangladesh-style judicial coup look likely? It certainly would not be welcome. The one in Bangladesh did that country no good at all. Nor is it at all certain. Pakistan, for all its rulers’ many faults, has at least been able to point to a rare glimmer of hope in recent months: 2013 was set to be the year when, for the first time since independence, an elected administration would complete a full term and hand power to another one. By embedding democratic, constitutional rule—and avoiding the military coups that have plagued the country and encouraged instability and corruption—Pakistan could gradually start to build institutions that would work better.

A lively media, especially vociferous television news, has helped ensure that soldiers stayed more out of politics. And outsiders, notably the Americans, have made it clear that they oppose overt military rule in Pakistan.

The general election is supposed to happen by May, and most had assumed that it would go ahead. If nothing else, the armed forces—led by General Ashfaq Kayani—had for a while looked just about comfortable with a situation in which civilian leaders are in office, and thus take the blame for Pakistan’s many disasters, while the army gets a large share of national resources and retains much control over policy it cares about, namely security and foreign affairs.

Crucially, so far, no political party of any heft has suggested it would welcome a delay to elections, let alone a suspension of democracy. The ruling Pakistan People's Party of Mr Zardari, and the main opposition Pakistan National League (N), of Nawaz Sharif, have been at pains to agree that a full civilian term will be completed and followed by an election. Smaller parties, notably the emerging popular movement of Imran Khan, have also so far stuck to the idea that civilians should rule and elections be held on time. It seems unlikely that the press would back a coup. Nor would donors, lenders or allies be at all supportive (with the possible exception of China).

Thus some other outcome may be more likely. It may be that the army wishes to see greater instability and uncertainty in civilian politics, or some measure of influence over elections, but not the outright suspension of democracy. To see why, look ahead to another important change of office that is scheduled to take place in Pakistan later this year: in November General Kayani will see the completion of his (extremely unusual) three-year extension of office. By all accounts his spell in charge has been a failure. It was on his watch that a series of disasters befell Pakistan’s armed forces, including the Americans' humiliating discovery and killing of Osama bin Laden in an army town, wretched relations with the American intelligence services, the spread of terrorism, attacks on important military bases, the weakening of Pakistan’s influence in Afghanistan and more besides.

Mr Kayani, it is rumoured, is anxious to exit gracefully from his job, and presumably wants to ensure that his retirement, and that of his close family, is not disrupted. It is up to the next civilian government to decide on his successor. Thus it is increasingly in his (and perhaps the army’s) interest to increase his clout over the civilian politicians in the coming months, even if that falls short of outright usurpation of power. Dividing the civilians and weakening them might well suit the armed forces, even if an outright coup would not.