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Pakistani
President Gen. Pervez Musharraf and Indian Prime Minister
Atal Vajpayee in security summit, Almaty, Kazakhstan
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Compared
to the past thirty years, the current standoff between India and
Pakistan on Kashmir may be considered the most serious between the
two South Asian rivals. More than a million heavily armed soldiers
facing each other eye to eye across the great South Asian divide
everyday only exacerbates tension. The specter of an armed
confrontation between the two adversaries possibly degenerating into
a nuclear holocaust is keeping the whole world on tenterhooks.
While
the stronger partner, India, showed precious little of the required
open heartedness to soothe frayed nerves in Pakistan, the Pakistani
leadership used fear of India as an alchemy to aggravate its
people’s agony. The situation was still not so hopeless, or beyond
redemption, so long as Pakistan was under civilian rule. But the
malady became almost incurable with power slipping into the hands of
soldiers of fortune in Pakistan.
A
Diplomacy of Fear
The
Pakistani Bonapartes found an elixir for their own longevity in
power by adroitly admixing fear of India’s hegemonic traits with
the rising power of religious fundamentalism. It was politically
opportune for them to wield the specter of a rapacious India lying
in wait to devour Pakistan, in order to keep themselves in reckoning
as defenders of Pakistan’s faith and frontiers.
India’s
frontal role as “liberator” of Bangladesh made it so much easier
for the power-hungry generals to impress their uninformed audience
at home with their “hate India” logic. India’s
persistent—and at times inane—refusal to play ball on the thorny
issue of Kashmir inadvertently granted the generals all the leverage
to hold their quarries at home in bondage. Physical partition of
land was eclipsed by the tide of emotional separation that soon
became a gulf.
The
only exception to the Pakistani generals’ rhapsody on India—and
in constant reference to India—was the decade-long era of Ziaul
Haq. But he did not need to wield the India card because the Soviets
had given him a more redoubtable alibi for staying in power by
invading Afghanistan. Zia in fact gave himself the luxury of
indulging in “Cricket diplomacy” with India while, behind the
scenes, taking the battle to India by courting and generously
assisting the Sikh separatists.
Nawaz
Sharif, a protégé of Zia, tried to borrow a leaf from his
mentor’s book by initiating his own “Bus diplomacy” with a
Vajpayee desperately trying to stave off the Hindu revivalists in
his own BJP. Both failed in their putative initiative to fight the
odds. Nawaz signed his own death warrant by being seen as peacemaker
with India on Kashmir, an anathema to the Pakistani Bonapartes.
Nawaz was trying to rob them of their turf and had to be stopped.
Vajpayee, dithering as ever, soon succumbed to his own hawks.
Enter
Musharraf!
General
Pervez Musharraf, once secure in his coup against Nawaz, tried to be
robustly involved in Pakistan’s relations with India. But in doing
so, he wanted to avoid all the pitfalls of his predecessors and deal
with India from a position of strength.
To
him and to those who had propelled him to power, Nawaz Sharif was a
weakling towards India and his policies and postures vis-à-vis
Delhi were not in the “best interest” of Pakistan; they had to
be shunned. In other words, there was no question of cutting a deal
with Vajpayee if he did not admit the centrality of the Kashmir
issue.
Likewise,
there was no room in Musharraf’s lexicon for vacuous gestures and
postures, such as Ziaul Haq’s “Cricket diplomacy.” Gimmicks
like that were the work of the weak and the irresolute. The Pakistan
army had bridged the gap with India by quickly following it into the
world nuclear club in 1998. India, henceforth, was expected to learn
to deal with Pakistan on equal terms.
The
Nuclear March
The
nuclear parity with India was Musharraf’s trump card. It was this
perception of Pakistan’s new-fangled nuclear status that had been
the threshold of Musharraf and company’s brazen blitz in Kargil in
the summer of 1999.
Musharraf
himself, and the cabal of like-minded generals goading him on,
thought the time to usher in a new perspective on the half-century
old Kashmir tangle with India had arrived. The generals,
overconfident and with undisguised disdain, if not contempt, decided
to give India and the world a taste of Pakistan’s new strength and
resolution. Kargil was an expression of as much pride of the
Pakistani generals in their nuclear clout as contempt for their
political superiors.
Musharraf,
understandably, brought to his high office the dual baggage of pride
in Pakistan’s nuclear muscle and belief in parity with India in
any dialogue on Kashmir. He and his colleagues in uniform believed
that India could be forced into a deal on Kashmir by staying on a
course of strength, blending carrot and stick. The carrot was
Pakistan’s readiness to enter into a dialogue with India on the
“core” problem of Kashmir; the stick was the low-intensity
uprising of the Kashmiris under Indian occupation with the moral and
material support of Pakistan.
But
the Kashmir chessboard was complicated. It snarled for Musharraf by
the rise of fundamentalism in India, matching Pakistan’s own slide
into the jaws of a stridently militant version of Islam. The
spin-off of the two countries’ consummation in the vortex of
extremism could only be a standstill on the political front. There
could be no meeting of minds between two antagonists, with each
given to an uncompromising belief in the correctness of their stand.
The
“War on Terror” Contribution
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Russian
President Vladimir Putin and Gen. Pervez Musharraf in
Conference in Almaty, Kazakhstan |
The
situation in the Pakistani camp was further complicated by the
increasing involvement of the Taliban and Al-Qa’eda elements in
Kashmir’s initially home-spun uprising. The fallout from September
11 gave a shot in the arm to the militants and hard liners in
Vajpayee’s own sanctum. They had a sure winner, they thought, in
the conscience of a world awakened to the menace of terrorism.
They
had been tilting at all the windmills to convince the world that
Pakistan was exporting terrorism to Indian-Controlled Kashmir; now
the world must believe the veracity of their clamor. The terrorist
attack on the Indian Parliament in Delhi on December 13 added a
further dimension to their case against Pakistan. The die was cast
in favor of teaching Pakistan a lesson for its “perfidy.” The
armies were ordered to keep their gunpowder dry.
But
Musharraf did not think that his case on Kashmir had run out of
steam. He had done a great favor to Bush by dying his own wool in
Bush’s color on Afghanistan, the Taliban and Al-Qaeda. Bush owed
it to him on Kashmir, where Pakistan was not involved in terrorism
but was merely lending its support to a people fighting for their
freedom.
In
his much-heralded speech of January 12, reverberated around the
world, Musharraf promised to crack down on militancy inside
Pakistan, but Kashmir was another kettle of fish. Kashmir, in his
words, pulsated in the heart of every Pakistani. How could anybody
expect him to renege on Pakistan’s “moral and principled”
commitment on the side of the Kashmiris?
On
that Pile
That
is where the two countries, and the world, are currently poised—on
the edge—on Kashmir. Both Musharraf and Vajpayee are mired in the
bog of their high-pitched and shrill policies on a matter that both
consider as one of life and death. Hence neither one of them is
prepared to blink.
High
profile emissaries from the powers-that-be have been making the
diplomatic pilgrimage to both Delhi and Islamabad. But any
breakthrough is still up in the clouds. The Russian strongman,
Vladimir Putin, failed to arrange a meeting between the two
adversaries, Vajpayee and Musharraf. There was, unlike the SAARC
summit of last January in Kathmandu, no impromptu handshake at
Almaty. Not even an eye contact between the two leaders. This
explains the chasm between them.
Both
Vajpayee and Musharraf are symptoms of the Kashmir problem.
Therefore, it would be wrong, if not naïve, of anyone to expect
them to become the instruments of change for the better.
Vajpayee
is a prisoner to the rhetoric forced down his throat by the hawks
and hard liners around him. He got himself marooned on a dangerously
high perch from where he cannot descend unscathed without the safety
net of some face saving. But who should throw him that lifeline? Not
Musharraf.
To
the Pakistani strongman, Kashmir is a matter of commitment and
conviction. He cannot envisage himself abdicating his moral
responsibility in the matter. Being from the much-maligned mohajir
(immigrant) community he must show more than usual resilience and élan
on Kashmir lest the majority community ruling the roost in the army
and the bureaucracy doubt his commitment and loyalty to Pakistan.
And
then there is Pakistan’s redoubtable nuclear option. The world has
a right to manifest all the angst on the nuclear trigger that could,
rightly, wreak horrific devastation on both India and Pakistan. But
to Musharraf, and the coterie around him, it is the ultimate
equalizer. Hence his repeated reminders to the world that, in dire
crunch, he may be left with no other option but pull the nuclear
lever. The world should take him seriously. He may not be bluffing.