Ayesha Siddiqa
A leaf from Turkey’s book by Ayesha Siddiqa
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Ayesha Siddiqa
Friday, 12 Mar, 2010
The discussion in Turkey on a botched coup attempt some years ago raised some hopes of Pakistan following a similar route. Operation Sledgehammer, as the attempted coup in Turkey was codenamed, involved senior military officers and aimed at creating internal chaos to allow for a military takeover.
The Turkish military is generally uncomfortable with an Islamic party in power. In April 2007 it had issued a general statement opposing the candidacy of the current president (Abdullah Gul) for the presidential elections, calling it a disaster for the country. However, Gul’s party still made it to power. Despite continued pressure from the armed forces, the Islamic AKP (Justice and Development Party) could not be dislodged due to popular support. Pakistan could have a similar experience but in a different context.
In Turkey’s case, the military was historically considered part of the nation-building process. It was Kemal Ataturk and his forces that got rid of the Ottoman empire and the system of khilafat to build a new republic based on secular principles. This meant that while people were allowed to pursue their faith, the state would not mix politics and religion.
Hence, the Turkish state never became a ‘faithless’ state. However, the military directly became the guarantor of the new socio-political system including the survival of secular politics and the establishment of more European social structures. The fact that the ruling elite built internal partnerships and supported the military began to create a wedge between the rulers and the ruled. Even leftist parties supported the military, which resulted in their losing some measure of popularity.
For society at large the only other option was offered by the Islamic parties that provided a different agenda to what was being offered by the elite, resulting in the AKP’s popularity. The debate on joining the European Union further strengthened the party’s position as it accepted the demand for democratisation laid down by the EU.
The AKP managed to outsmart the military, which was forced from the outside to accept the internal changes. The EU constantly challenged the power, perks and privileges of the Turkish armed forces, which had built their significance on the basis of being the guardians and guarantors of Turkey’s changing national narrative. The AKP did not talk about reinstating the khilafat; in fact, it benefited from the European demand for Turkey to become democratic.
Pakistan’s case is quite different. There are similarities but it is the differences which put Pakistan in a separate league. Firstly, its military was not part of the initial nation-building process. It was actually a post-colonial institution just like the civil bureaucracy. This means that the various stakeholders did not necessarily consider the military above board and an uncontested writer and guarantor of the social contract as in Turkey. Pakistan’s military was part of the state bureaucracy that gained power over time and began to dominate the state.
Each bout of military rule has extended the armed forces’ power even further. The power to extend the service of senior officers, which the current army chief has exercised, was never naturally his but was made so by Gen Ziaul Haq. As per the rules, the power to appoint, promote and extend service belongs to the appointing authority, which in the case of the federal government lies with the prime minister. Zia and later Musharraf were responsible for extending the military’s pervasive role in politics, society and the economy in order to wield power even though the armed forces were not in direct control.
Like Turkey, the ruling elite in Pakistan has also contributed to building the military’s power. In fact, in Pakistan’s case the civil-military divide is not simply linear but both horizontal and vertical. Eventually, all political leaders make strategic compromises with the military for short-term gains. The signing of illegal deals or hiding the military’s assets or trying to whitewash the defence establishment’s blunders is done because political leaders and significant members of civil society believe they can benefit from association with the generals.
If we were only to dig up and compare the statements of individuals regarding military rule it would be easy to see the somersaults made by so many to secure their financial and other interests. The short memory of the people helps some get away with murder.
But Pakistan does not have the convenience of foreign actors who would help with a fundamental change as in Turkey’s case. Islamabad’s international benefactors have happily rebuilt their links with GHQ, especially now that there seems to be some hope of making gains in Afghanistan. Foreign stakeholders like the US have always been shortsighted as far as Pakistan is concerned.
But it is also a fact that they want to keep the military on their side because it is not ideologically opposed to using religion as a tool. This is not to suggest there is something wrong with the idea, but it is a matter of a military not geared to apply western or even Islamic principles of secularism as done by Turkey. Therefore, the only gains the US and its allies can hope to make in the region are to get maximum support from the armed forces even though they do not hope to change the institution. The military has a radical outlook and is comfortable with some aspects of political Islam as an operational tool. The Islamists are integrated into the military machine as those who adopt a pragmatic approach in dealing with external actors.
For instance, the military is keen for the US to stay but only deal through the GHQ both nationally and regionally. Policymakers in Washington are of the view that the idea of an American withdrawal from Afghanistan has deeply perturbed Pakistan’s military.
However, the issue with a multifaceted institution, which builds multilayered partnerships, is that it is difficult to push back. It can change clothes and reappear once a crisis is over. Thus the major difference between the Turkish and Pakistan’s military is that the latter has more than nine lives and has an open field since even the opponents are ultimately its partners.
The writer is an independent strategic and political analyst.
ayesha.ibd@gmail.com
State within a state? by Ayesha Siddiqa
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Ayesha Siddiqa
Friday, 05 Mar, 2010
It is amusing to note that there has not been a thorough discussion in the media on the army chief’s decision to give extension in service to a couple of lieutenant generals on his own — something which has major implications for the state.
The little that has appeared in the print media indicates that Gen Kayani indeed has the powers to promote senior officers without consulting the government. The development is far too important to be brushed aside as a minor procedural issue.
While the decision is a part of the larger picture of AfPak politics, it is symbolic of the true nature of the Pakistani state’s inner power structure. It shows that the present army chief has, by not seeking prior sanction for giving the extension, yet again established his organisation’s autonomous status. He has, in fact, established a precedent which many would be tempted to follow even in the civil bureaucracy.
The prime minister, who seems to have raised no objection, must immediately restructure the state bureaucracy and pack up the defence ministry and the establishment division as their services are no longer required. If heads of departments can carry out such functions, why bother with keeping this section of the bureaucracy?
As far as the state’s bureaucratic function is concerned, Gen Kayani is what may be termed as the head of a department. Some may even argue that it is actually the secretary, ministry of defence, who is the head of the department. But then that might have been challenged. The general is clearly his own boss.
The concept of the head of department is important from the perspective of defining the powers of different office holders. During Musharraf’s tenure the establishment decided that heads of the department could give leave to their staff. This was done to provide relief to those who had to run from pillar to post to get their leave sanctioned. This was like setting up a one-window operation. However, this power did not interfere with the government’s authority to give its sanction to all other decisions including promotions or extensions.
Giving extension to an officer means that those below will not get promoted which has a ripple effect in a top-down hierarchical system. This means that some of the officers at every level of the bureaucracy would have to be retired which is an expense on the state. Since the government is the one responsible for the functioning of the state, it is the right authority to make such decisions. So, while Gen Kayani might like some of his men to remain on his staff, he would have to first seek approval from the right quarters.
Some may get restless with this view and refer to the corruption of political governments. Why bother with a couple of extensions when there is so much else going wrong? But this is not just about how much money is lost but the principles of governing a state. More importantly, this is about not encouraging the phenomenon of a ‘state within a state’.
The government’s first and only white paper on defence written during the 1970s had strengthened the defence ministry’s position as the main interface between the military and the civilian government. The first defence secretary was not only a civilian, he was a non-bureaucrat. This was the primary government organisation to deal with the armed forces for which a centre-point was created in the form of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Committee (JCSC).
Unfortunately, neither institution could grow because of the military takeover in 1977. The JCSC couldn’t really stand up to the pressure of the military in the seat of power. Later, under Musharraf, the army more or less killed the institution by changing one of the core principles for the JCSC, that is the appointment of the chairman by rotation. Even Nawaz Sharif contributed to the malaise by appointing Musharraf as the chairman when it was actually the naval chief’s turn.
In Pakistan’s power politics it is the army chief who calls the shots. With the decision to give extension to his officers the current army chief has established his autonomy and power. Other service chiefs may not necessarily replicate this authority unless they get a tough-minded head. The air force is more likely to follow the tradition. This region’s history is witness to the fact that moves to alter the principles of governance are costly. The Indians suffered as a result of this during the 1960s. Their defence establishment got into questionable human resource management in the armed forces which lost them the war of 1962 against China.
Gen Kayani may have signalled to the government that human resource management in the army comes under his purview and that he does not want politicians to decide on issues close to the military’s heart. More importantly, however, this is part of the politics being played in the capital and its twin city to get the right man in before the Afghan operation gets to the crucial stage. Since Gen Kayani has caught the imagination of his American friends, there are many in Washington who are in favour of an extension for the army chief. In case that doesn’t work out, the army chief would position his cards to get the preferred man in line to take over from him.
Some in the Obama administration continue to bet on the military horse rather than the civilian government. Within the army the preference is for certain officers, especially the ISI chief Gen Pasha. Whether or not this personality-driven approach solves the AfPak problem to Washington’s satisfaction is another matter. Meanwhile, the Pakistani state’s structure is being altered to accommodate a ‘state within a state.’
The writer is an independent strategic and political analyst.
ayesha.ibd@gmail.com
Pakistan’s Jinnah by Ayesha Siddiqa
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Ayesha Siddiqa
Friday, 19 Feb, 2010
Some time ago, I had a chance to read veteran columnist Ardeshir Cowasjee’s article ‘Bring back Jinnah’s Pakistan’ in which he talked about the founding father’s liberal vision for the country.
Mr Cowasjee’s argument was that the state envisioned by Mohammad Ali Jinnah would have been governed by a different set of social norms than the one in place today.
I would like to inform the respectable writer that while he is searching for Jinnah’s Pakistan, we might be threatened with the eventuality of losing Pakistan’s Jinnah.
A journalist friend was recently presented with a historic photograph of the founding father in which he was holding his pups.
I am glad it was given to a friend rather than a foe because there is always the possibility these days that the person presenting the photograph would be accused of being a foreign agent for distributing such photographs of Jinnah.
We shouldn’t be surprised if in a few years’ time we come across a doctored photograph of the founding father in a turban and a beard to prove a certain point.
There are now devious elements who are tinkering with Jinnah — the person — and his narrative. We are being told that all those details which describe the Quaid-i-Azam as a man with western liberal habits are but a conspiracy and a figment of the imagination of enslaved minds.
We are being told that Jinnah never had a lifestyle that might not get the approval of the puritanical-religious crowd in the country. The purpose behind altering details of Jinnah’s personality is the first step towards changing the national narrative.
The next step will be to argue that Jinnah wanted a state where only a certain school of thought could live. Others would have the status of second-class citizens or be shunned, or put in jail for their alternative identity.
But why is a liberal Jinnah unpalatable to these people? Mohammad Ali Jinnah could have hidden his identity as a liberal as he concentrated on the legal case of getting a separate state for the Muslims of India.
He didn’t hide his reality or make an effort to adapt to what the majority of the people followed because in his mind the new state could allow for all creeds, castes and religions.
The Muslims of India had not struggled to move away from the dominance of one culture to the dominance of another. This would be a country where people of different religions could proudly become equal citizens.
In a speech in 1948, Jinnah had said: “We are the inheritors of these glorious traditions and are fully alive to our responsibilities and obligations as framers of the future constitution of Pakistan. In any case Pakistan is not going to be a theocratic state to be ruled by priests with a divine mission.
We have many non-Muslims — Hindus, Christians and Parsis — but they are all Pakistanis. They will enjoy the same rights and privileges as any other citizens and will play their rightful part in the affairs of Pakistan.â€
Having access to modern forms of media, these characters seem to be assisted by ‘ghost warriors’ in creating a new national narrative formulated on the basis of a post-modernist agenda.
The country’s survival, hence, does not any longer depend on the struggle of its citizenry to make its political system work, but on establishing an imagined political system which these people guarantee their followers will rid the state of all its evils. Based on puritanical norms, the new political system, which they call the ideal khilafat, can do wonders.
These people are not the Taliban, nor are they even a single bunch of people. There are several layers operating at various levels and in different forms.
There are those that market the traditional religious identity and then there are others who appeal to the secular. Not to forget those who sell high doses of what they term ‘nationalism’ while pursuing a very western, liberal kind of lifestyle.
Very few people realise that the country’s national narrative is being strategically and cunningly reorganised and rewritten. The underlying norm of the new narrative is a puritanical version of religion and history.
In the process, the nation-state is being stretched and society adjusted to meet the challenges of the new version of nationalism.
What goes without saying is that there is probably very little space for those who do not conform to the description of an ‘ideal’ citizen. The description not only extends to those condemned as ‘enemies of the state’ but also others who cannot fall into the category of this description due to their peculiar caste, creed, faith, ethnicity, or other factors.
So, it is with a heavy heart that I would like to inform Mr Cowasjee that the new perimeters of citizenship define a citizen and give him/her rights on the basis of their putative relationship with religion as interpreted by a certain set of people.
This is no longer about a pluralistic state and a multi-polar polity. Therefore, the new narrative makes it imperative for this ‘gang’ of people to kidnap Pakistan’s Jinnah.
Can the honourable columnist and citizen do something about getting the founding father back? Surely, there will be those willing to fight for his recovery or even a pay ransom to do so.
The writer is an independent strategic and political analyst.
ayesha.ibd@gmail.com
The patronage networks by Ayesha Siddiqa
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Ayesha Siddiqa
Friday, 12 Feb, 2010
A COUPLE of months ago while walking through the F-9 park in Islamabad I met a young undergraduate studying information technology. He was critical of corrupt politics and the feudal mindset of the ruling elite. He was bitter about our leaders who he said do nothing but grab and exercise excessive power.
The conversation went fine until I asked him about his future plans. He wanted to take the civil service exams. Why won’t you pursue the profession for which you are training, I inquired. The answer was that he wanted to have power, since you cannot survive in the country without it.
I was reminded of a similar conversation I had with another person aspiring to join the civil service. This person was pursuing postgraduate studies abroad and wanted to become a bureaucrat to avenge the system that killed his parents. Being poor, the only option he had was to take his ailing parents to a government hospital without sifarish. Naturally the doctors on duty couldn’t care less and the man’s parents died. Now the young man who got an opportunity to go abroad for studies thought he would join the system and change it from within.
‘Changing the system from within’ is quite a popular argument. Those distressed by the ‘system’ are told to take it easy and watch the incremental changes which will be brought about by qualified bureaucrats or others. You are told to ‘look at the glass as being half-full rather than half-empty’. It’s your fault not to notice the small changes which have taken place or those that are in the pipeline.
Many of us must have met retired bureaucrats (both civil and military) and heard them talk endlessly about how well they ran the system. They will tell you about their adventures, their vision, brilliance and originality. Interestingly, all retired bureaucrats sound the same: lots of endless storytelling but no clue as to why their individual brilliance and that of their colleagues hasn’t made the state more efficient. They almost never confess to the sin of working the system just to enhance their own power.
Deep down I think the young men I talked to were lured by the power of ‘power’ and would eventually settle for greater nuisance value for themselves rather than change the system. In both cases I tried to tell them that they probably wanted to have more power just to serve themselves and would adapt to the ‘system’ rather than the other way round.
The civil and military bureaucracies in the country are two patronage groups which can assure entry into power circles. This does not mean that everyone aims to gain influence, but becoming part of a patronage network ensures you can survive in this environment. A common citizen has no value.
So ultimately things don’t improve. Just look at the menace of terrorism, for which we have no answers. According to the popular narrative it is the work of American, Indian and Israeli intelligence agencies. This means that the threat is enormous. But it shouldn’t necessarily mean that nothing can be done to counter it.
How about tactical moves like improving and sharing intelligence? The country has no system where different agencies can sit together and share critical information and technology to fight terror. The police generally do not have the capacity to intercept communications between terrorists. They have to go to military intelligence agencies to, for instance, trace mobile phone calls. So lack of timely information does not help the police as a lot often depends on interpersonal relations.As for sharing information at the organisational level, this is also a non-starter due to turf warfare. Thus opportunities like the newly established National Counter-Terrorism Authority (Nacta) are lost because every boss wants to be bigger than the other. This power-grabbing behaviour is replicated at all levels, the best example being the opposing views of the president and the army chief on ‘strategic depth.’ While the president being the head of state disowned this particular option, the army chief spoke openly about maintaining this framework.
Sadly no one bothers to even take responsibility for his or her actions. It was interesting to read in the newspaper that it was the Rangers’ sniffer dog that failed to detect the bomb that went off outside the Jinnah Hospital in Karachi. The government should now move rapidly and punish the dog lest he refuses to take the blame. Or perhaps even he might be accused of being a foreign agent.Such behaviour is also found among non-bureaucrats. One would not like to exclude well-trained and educated professionals like doctors, engineers and lawyers from this list. Taking responsibility also means subjecting yourself to accountability which, given the desire for individual power, is certainly not the goal. Will education change this? But then education is sought not for personal enlightenment but for social mobility of the kind that means greater nuisance value. The educated are some of the biggest crooks of our society.
Recent incidents like the death of children due to the alleged negligence of doctors who then failed to subject themselves or other members of their profession to accountability, the tragic death of Shazia Bashir Masih and the appalling behaviour of lawyers, or retired Brig Obaidullah Ranjha allegedly subjecting Professor Tahir Malik to brutality are all examples of what strong patronage networks can do for individual power.
Not allowing their colleagues to represent the 12-year-old girl’s family in court depicts the power lawyers have recently acquired by being part of a movement. Instead of making them conscious of the primacy of the rule of law, the movement for the restoration of the judiciary seems to have granted lawyers the right to be above the law.
The murdered girl’s family may also have little chance to knock on the doors of the PTI, JI and other parties because being a member of a minority group, Shazia Masih is perhaps not considered a daughter of the country. This case looks exceptional because no one wants to own it, which goes to show that it may not bolster the country’s reputation nationally and internationally.
As for the professor, he is up against the most stable patronage network. The brigadier accused of manhandling him may have resigned but the ex-army man is unlikely to pay a price that is commensurate with his actions. As for the boys mentioned in the beginning, I welcome them to the world of patronage networks which continue to thrive. That’s the only glass that’s full.
The writer is an independent strategic and political analyst.
ayesha.ibd@gmail.com
Education and values By Ayesha Siddiqa
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A year ago, some of my old classmates from Lahore’s Cathedral High School tracked me down through the Internet. I can’t be grateful enough for this wonderful invention in communications, and the patience of this crazy bunch that wanted to travel back through the time tunnel.
The conversations of the class of 1981 continue; it is fascinating to go back in time, think about all those people and yourself, and then see how each has grown. All the people in our chat group are well settled and excel in what they do. Quite a few seem to have shifted to North America and have become successful doctors, engineers and management experts. I suspect that the majority are engineers and doctors since we belong to a generation whose parents could not see beyond these two professions.
A bright mind had to pick one of the two areas which left others, whose hearts were not in either field, quite out of sorts with themselves. You could not pretend to be bright without wanting to join either of the two vocations. Deciding for yourself was rare. So, the new generation has far more options.
But as I sat exchanging notes with former classmates and trying to remember the faces in some old photographs that we shared, it struck me that we had the privilege of studying in an institution. Moreover, we grew up in a value system that was grounded in a middle-class narrative. Looking at the photographs, I could recognise a classmate whose father owned a bakery in Neela Gumbad, Lahore (not a chain of stores but a single shop). It struck me that the overall value system and the educational institutions that produced our group did not cater to the class divide.
There were a range of such educational institutions, including Cathedral High School, St Anthony’s, Sacred Heart, Queen Mary’s, Divisional Public School and many others that were quite well grounded in middle-class values. These schools acted as melting pots where individual social realities had to soften enough to create ease for whoever else was part of the institution. While there were schools like Aitchison, which was socio-economically a class above, the others were generally at the same level.
The reason that Cathedral High School and other such institutions offered this was linked to the fact that they were run by different Christian missionaries or similar set-ups. This meant that upper-class children had to learn to survive with less affluent ones. So, while the Convent girls were generally reputed to be a bit ‘up in the air’, even they had to study with children whose fees were subsidised by the mission. This led to social intermingling that watered down the class barriers to a large extent.
Also, the fee structure was quite affordable. I remember our parents kicking up a racket when in 1977 the fees were suddenly jacked up from Rs50 to Rs75. Those were certainly not the days when children brought cellphones to school or got obnoxious amounts of pocket money. I remember us being warned to stay away from one child: he allegedly got Rs10 from his father every morning — there’s got to be something wrong with money doled out with such ease!
The coexistence of various economic classes also meant greater tolerance for other differences, be it class, religion, caste or creed. During the morning assembly, we would sing hymns followed by the national anthem. There was generally no fear of being induced to convert to another religion. At our school, students from all religious backgrounds had the option to join the choir, which some found attractive because it occasionally allowed you to skip a class to go to the cathedral for practice. (For a long time, one popular myth was that there were ghosts inside the cathedral, which naturally kept the majority away.)
It was not that all the students at this and other such schools came from upper-middle class families. The majority was middle class and yet liberal enough to allow a bakery owner’s daughter to attend a co-ed school. There were many others like her; there were children whose parents owned businesses, including in Anarkali, and others who came from the households of professional and educated parents. That was a value system that allowed the coexistence of many colours, sounds and smells. There was lesser tendency to create unfathomable compartments.
But all of what I have described was the case before society became flush with money. The ’80s witnessed the systematic strangulation of pluralism and multi-polarity. This was achieved through several methods, but certainly through changing the tenor of the socio-economic and educational systems. In the first category you could see changes regarding people’s behaviour towards money: the source of the money did not matter and, in fact, not having money or having less of it started to become a stigma. (A year ago I heard my five-year-old niece ask her mother about the model of their car; apparently, such questions are now not considered weird.)
The other major shift related to education, which fell prey to a process of rapid de-institutionalisation and capitalism. Suddenly, there was a mushrooming of new schools with fancy names, which aimed at establishing a class above the rest — based on money. Questionable sources were certainly not a problem. The more expensive the school, the greater a symbol of high status it became.
Schools gradually became places where you bought education without any baggage of values or responsibility towards society. The teachers began to be treated like they were the parents’ personal staff, there to keep the brats entertained. The social background of your classmate also became important. I remember being told about a school for children of the staff of a prominent university; the majority of the academic faculty had reservations about sending their children to a school that was also attended by the children of the staff.
Unable to compete in terms of money and good human resources, schools like Cathedral High crashed and it is not a place where I would today send my child. However, I am indebted to the school and our teachers for giving us more than just the ability to read and write; I am sure the class of ’81 will agree that studying in an institution was a great privilege.
The writer is an independent strategic and political analyst.
ayesha.ibd@gmail.com
The Afghanistan problem-Ayesha Siddiqa
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Friday, 29 Jan, 2010
NOTHING could be clearer than the fact that there is an ever-widening divide in the perception, interests and understanding of the situation amongst the various stakeholders in Afghanistan. The regional states have their eyes on maximising benefits as the US reviews cutting its losses and bailing out of Kabul.
Although American officials explained that the Obama administration is yet to take a final decision regarding withdrawal of troops from Afghanistan, it is quite clear that the US and its Nato allies are looking for an exit. This would mean finding some face-saving method for allied forces to withdraw.
Regionally, attention is drawn towards Gen McChrystal’s recent remarks regarding negotiations with the Taliban. This is not a new idea but the conspiracy mill — which is forever productive in South Asia — has begun to talk about the possibility of the US doing a deal with the Taliban alone and leaving Afghanistan at the mercy of a Karzai-Mullah Omar coalition supported by India.
The Obama administration is considering various methods to woo the Taliban, that would include the use of money and carefully applying the divide and rule policy through which the ‘good’ Taliban could be separated from the ‘bad’. In this case, the good probably refers to a newer generation that might be more willing to cut deals with foreign forces than the older generation, which partnered with the likes of Osama bin Laden.
The anxiety expressed by some circles in Pakistan regarding a negotiation plan is strange considering that the military and the strategic community on the whole have always supported such an idea. In fact, Pervez Musharraf continues to market the idea. There is also the worry mentioned earlier that the US might do the talking on its own. However, this shouldn’t be a worry since it is not easy to ignore the ISI — with its extensive contacts with the Taliban. Sources even claim that a meeting between the ISI, CIA and Mullah Omar did take place in the past couple of months organised by Pakistan’s intelligence operatives.
The Taliban do not seem averse to talking to the US, especially now that Washington might not be insisting on Mullah Omar and his men surrendering Osama dead or alive. The Taliban and their handlers would be happy to negotiate with the US since they were never really averse to the idea of such talks. There are some who believe that an agreement could have been reached only if the US was not in such a hurry to attack.
Consequently, Mullah Omar seems to have signalled his willingness not to engage in a war in case he is included in Afghanistan’s future political set-up. Interestingly, other sources have denied the report. But why wouldn’t he talk as he has everything to gain?
Not only would he be a part of Kabul’s future political dispensation, he would also be a part of establishing a religion-oriented state that would get as much support from the West as Saudi Arabia, if not more. So denying reports of conciliation may be for harder bargaining but definitely not to create anxiety in western capitals which may force them to change their minds.
A deal with Mullah Omar is all that the allies could look forward to since there is no possibility whatsoever of a much-needed arrangement amongst regional stakeholders like India, Iran and Pakistan regarding Kabul’s future.
While Islamabad is apprehensive of the Indian presence due to its fear of a two-front situation in the future, India seems to be thinking in terms of the best- and worst-case scenarios. The former pertains to a situation where Delhi is able to put Pakistan on the defensive. It has already tried to achieve the objective through a mix of intelligence and development assistance tactics. The worst-case scenario for Delhi, on the other hand, pertains to the political balkanisation of Afghanistan in which Islamabad’s influence is limited to the southern provinces while India has greater influence over Kabul and the north.
There are apparent holes in this strategy since India might not be able to hold the south after an American withdrawal. Since Delhi has not invested in the friendlier provinces in the north and concentrated all its efforts in the south, it may not be able to establish a foothold in either part. It may try to do the trick through pumping money to the Afghan Taliban, but there are no guarantees that this will work.
There could even be a worst-case scenario in which Delhi gets crushed in Afghanistan and on its mainland through these non-state forces. The fact that Pakistan also bleeds profusely in the process is a given. But it’s sad to see states not understanding the future cost of their strategic games.
It’s most unfortunate that the regional states, which will suffer the most after they are left to confront each other’s interests in Afghanistan after a US withdrawal, do not think of a joint strategy. The Pandora’s box — which many believe was opened due to American intervention in Afghanistan — will not be shut by a US withdrawal. There are a couple of possibilities that come to mind.
First, there could be a deliberate lull in violence after the allied forces leave. This is a period when other regional forces with stakes in Afghanistan will be regrouping to claim greater territory and interests. Second, violence could probably increase initially in Afghanistan and then in the entire region.
The regional actors would pump in resources and use contacts with the proxies to create greater chaos and mayhem on the other side. This is certainly a dangerous proposition since what we may be looking at is a conflict which will not be contained within specific boundaries. Therefore, we may end up having larger ungovernable spaces. Such a development will threaten India as much as it will Pakistan. Or perhaps it will affect Pakistan more since society is already bleeding from the impact of a decade of the war on terror.
Sadly, there is no end in sight to proxy wars in the region and non-state actors. In fact, heightened competition between India and Pakistan over Afghanistan will result in greater justification on both sides for maintaining non-state actors as proxies. Such a prognosis means that there will be more youth who will be deprived of their right to education, a better and hygienic environment, greater access to health and personal security. They will be sacrificed at the altar of national ego and fooled into ‘martyrdom’ in the name of faith.
The writer is an independent strategic and political analyst.
ayesha.ibd@gmail.com



