Maintaining the balance of power

TWO events took place last week which could impinge on Islamabad’s security and foreign policies in the long run. One was a renewed international propaganda campaign against Pakistan’s nuclear programme, and the second was Tehran’s decision to suspend its uranium enrichment programme and allow surprise UN inspections.

On October 21, two days after the Saudi Crown Prince left Islamabad after a two-day visit, Israeli radio quoted its military intelligence chief as saying that Saudi and Pakistani officials had discussed a request by Riyadh to deploy Pakistani nuclear warheads on its territory. On the same day, a US-based news agency went even further and reported from Islamabad, quoting an “unimpeachable” Pakistani source, that Pakistan had signed a secret pact with Saudi Arabia during the Saudi Crown Prince’s visit to supply nuclear technology in exchange for oil.

Although rumours about the Riyadh-Islamabad nuclear connection are not new, this is probably the first time that it has been reported that a specific agreement had been signed during a particular visit. Officials from both sides have denied the “malicious” report, and the comment from a US State Department official was that although he was not in a position to confirm or deny the story, it seemed very improbable that the Pakistanis would do such a thing given their awareness of the US position on sharing nuclear technology.

On the same day that the latest propaganda campaign against a nuclear cooperation between Riyadh and Islamabad surfaced, neighbouring Tehran signed an agreement with the foreign ministers of three major European Union countries during their visit to Iran in which the former agreed to suspend its uranium enrichment programme and allow more stringent nuclear inspections in return for cooperation with the EU in developing its peaceful nuclear energy programme.

Although Tehran’s decision to comply with IAEA’s demand ten days before the latter’s October 31 deadline may seem to have averted a crisis for the time being, some in Iran argue that the whole episode looks ominously like a repeat of neighbouring Iraq’s experience with the IAEA. Particularly so when the US and Israel do not even trust Iran to use nuclear technology for peaceful/energy purposes because they say that Tehran is using the civil atomic energy programme as a cover to develop nuclear weapons.

Whether true or not, it was reported on October 13 in a German magazine that a special unit of Israel’s intelligence agency had received orders two months ago to prepare plans for strikes on half-a-dozen targets in Iran suspected of being used to prepare nuclear weapons. On the same day that Tehran agreed to suspend its enrichment programme, an Iranian foreign ministry spokesman said that he did not believe such threats to attack Iran were serious.

Whether or not these threats are serious, two factors at least must have weighed in Tehran’s decision last week to comply with IAEA, viz., the fact that the nuclear programme of Iran’s neighbour, Iraq, was destroyed by Israel in the 1981 bombing of the Osirak nuclear power station, and the US military presence on Iran’s doorstep in Iraq since the American occupation there in March this year.

On the day that Tehran agreed to comply with IAEA’s demands, the Pakistani prime minister arrived in Iran for a three-day visit. As Islamabad sought to reassure Tehran of its continued friendship, the former cannot but be cognizant of the possible consequences for its nuclear weapons programme because of Tehran’s decision to sign the Additional Protocol to the Non- Proliferation Treaty.

By coincidence or by design, the mayor of Hiroshima, Dr Tadatoshi Akiba, who is the head of an anti-nuclear international league of over 500 cities namely the Conference of Mayors for Peace, was also visiting Islamabad last week. During talks with the Pakistani foreign minister, the mayor is reported to have asked Islamabad to move forward on the NPT. The Conference of Mayors for Peace intends to give a time-frame of 2020 for nuclear states to surrender their nuclear weapons, otherwise it would ask the UN to take action against them.

Another significant security development also took place on October 21. On this day, Pakistan and China began an unprecedented three-day naval exercise off the coast of Shanghai. It was reported that this was China’s first ever naval exercise with any foreign country and the Pakistani vessels involved included two ships, two helicopters, two aircraft, and 1,600 personnel from both sides.

On October 23, the final day of this joint naval exercise and two days after Tehran agreed to IAEA’s demands, President Pervez Musharraf, speaking to officers at a local cantonment, pledged that Pakistan was committed to a policy of minimum credible deterrence in both conventional and unconventional fields, and vowed that the balance of power in South Asia would be maintained at all costs.

It would appear that the October 18-19 visit to Islamabad by the Saudi Crown Prince and the October 21-23 joint Pakistan-China naval exercises are counter-balances to the visit by the Israeli prime minister to New Delhi last month and the increasingly close defence ties between Iran and India, as reflected for example in the first joint naval exercises between the two countries in the Arabian Sea off the coast of Mumbai in March.

Recent events must necessarily alert Islamabad to what looks likely to be an increasingly complex security scenario within the region, which may entail the formulation of new policy initiatives to maintain the balance of power. One such policy initiative could well be the recognition of Israel by Islamabad - judging by recent articles in the local press, as well as reports on local digital television channels, one of which even conducted an interview with the former Israeli prime minister, Shimon Peres.

Although the issue of Israel’s recognition is not exactly new in Pakistan, what seems to be new, according to one article last week, is that Islamabad is now seriously considering and working on the issue. The security logic behind this policy probably is that normal relations with Israel would decrease the latter’s fears about, and thus its objections to, Pakistan’s nuclear weapons programme, which is deemed necessary by Islamabad for maintaining the balance of power in South Asia.

But it goes without saying that the decision to recognize Israel is a policy which Islamabad will find extremely difficult to take in isolation from the rest of the Arab world and the OIC members. Unless it is a policy supported and adopted by the rest of the Arab world as well, and unless it is a policy that is undertaken in conjunction with real movements towards a political solution in Kashmir, Palestine and now Iraq, recognition of Israel by Islamabad alone would probably achieve little beyond turning Pakistan into a state fully dependent on the US.

‘Clouds at sunrise’

I HAVE been talking of Sir Ganga Ram and his biographer, BPL Bedi. His biography, Harvest from the Desert, begins with the chapter, Clouds at Sunrise in which Bedi starts off as a novelist. Let me share part of it with you.

Bedi begins:

In the forties of the nineteenth century, a young couple were on their way to the Punjab. They carried with them nothing more than the bare necessities of a wayfarer: a few utensils for cooking, and a bundle of clothes.

These lonely travellers on the by-paths and mud roads of a deserted countryside were not ordinary mendicants. The man came from a comfortably settled agriculturist family in District Muzaffarnagar of the United Provinces; his wife was the daughter of a merchant, and had also enjoyed the blessings of a sheltered childhood under the roof of a father who could always count upon an adequate income.

At home, there was nothing normally given to a middle-class family which was denied them, and yet this couple had turned their backs on their village, and were trekking their way night and day to the far-off North.

“Once we cross the Sutlej, and let us pray to God Almighty that we do get across, we shall be able to breathe freely and eat our two morsels of bread in peace.” The man looked wistfully at the green fields around him, and the peaceful villages under their shady trees, and then at the dusty road, and the swirling river ahead, and he started singing, as though the mistrust and sorrow in his heart had to find some tune in which to drown itself. But the tune itself was sad, and repeated monotonously the one thought that was stirring within his tired head:

“Of what avail the plough or sailor land or life if freedom fail?”

The freedom which these two wanted was neither freedom from the tyranny of the mother-in-law, nor from the fear of creditors, nor from the rapacity of Government officials, but freedom from the sword of those marauding hordes of Jat and Afghan horsemen who harried the plains of Hindostan like jackals. They were prowling everywhere, gnawing at the great carcase that used to be the Moghul Empire, and nobody’s life or property was safe.

The might of the Empire was gone, but the shadow of the Emperor remained. The great heritage of the mighty Akbar had fallen to pieces, and outlying provinces had already been appropriated by Sikhs, Mahrattas, Rajputs, Afghans and the rest. Instead of “Ain-i-Akbari”, Anarchy and Disorder held terrible sway over the land. Among the local chiefs, the recognised cannon of social morality became “Everyone for himself, and the devil take the hindmost”.

But, as always, it was the people of the land who suffered most from insecurity of life and property. Every village and every town was at the mercy of the freebooters. The districts around Delhi, being the last remnants of the Empire, were ready targets for their attacks, and they were always open to raids. The life of the people, by night and by day, was one long terror. No man at night knew whether he would see the morning sun. Women were to be guarded as more precious than jewels within the four-walls of their homes. For the very young and the very old there was no mercy when the robbers came. No power could stay their hands, and prayers could not ward off the unsheathed sword.

It was the freedom from the ravages of cold steel that the villagers pined for and prayed. And the mirage of security beyond the Sutlej had drawn Daulat Ram and his young wife from the warmth and comfort of the family hearth.

News came that the Sikh kingdom had fallen, and Ferangi Raj had been established in the Punjab. Here was the promise of something new, some indication of change, and the prospect, perhaps, of making a new way in life.

Daulat Ram was the youngest of four brothers, and he had inherited in full measure that spirit of adventure which moves younger sons all over the world to seek new pastures in new places. The history of empire-building throughout the centuries has been the history of younger sons taking to new fields and bold enterprises.

Daulat Ram’s decision to seek his fortune in the new land of the Punjab once again illustrated what history had established times without number. The journey was long and hard and they were exposed to considerable danger, but the drive of hope was urgent enough to sustain Daulat Ram on his way.

At last, the two wayfarers reached the land of their dreams, and things worked out well. Daulat Ram with his straight figure and fine physique easily got a job as Junior Sub-Inspector in the Police Service of the new Government. His background of agricultural life, and his knowledge of Persian helped him a great deal in carrying out his new work efficiently. Added to these, the courage and self-confidence which his long and arduous journey had given him commanded respect from his subordinates, as well as from his masters. A tilt of the chin, and straight-gazing eyes were the outward signs of his victory.

At Mangatanwala, where Fate had settled them, a new chapter opened in the lives of the nomadic couple. There was home life once again, and rest for soul as well as body. Their long-thwarted desire for peace and security seemed to be fulfilled at last, and a new light entered their lives.

On the one hand, Mangatanwala is situated about forty miles from Lahore, the capital of the Province. On the other, it is about fourteen miles from Nankana Sahib, the famous shrine of the Sikhs sanctified by its association with Guru Nanak.

Strategically it stands on the road which formed the old Imperial highway of the Moghuls connecting Delhi, the heart of the Empire, with the far-flung outposts of the North-West.

Mangatanwala was, therefore, an important station, and the officials who were posted there basked in reflected glory.

The Police station was located, not in any ordinary building but in an old mud fort, which gave it more the appearance of a defence post than that of a mere local station. But, despite its dignified appearance, housing accommodation was very scanty, and Daulat Ram could not be accommodated within the four-walls of the mud fort. He looked round the neighbourhood to find a likely house for his family.

Not very far away flowed the Deg Nala in its winding bed, and on its banks stood an old shrine. In seclusion there lived a Sadhu, as monolithic in his calm as he was monosyllabic in his speech. He had lived in that place for long long years. He had seen people come and go, from the lowly untouchable to the great Maharaja, with as little attention as he had witnessed the rise and fall of the Sikh kingdom, and with as much detachment as he had seen the Durrani hordes ride by, undisturbed and unmoved.

The young Police officer secretly began to cherish the idea of living near this old man. But the recluse maintained a forbidding reserve, and he did not dare to suggest it. So he began to visit the Sadhu, sitting quietly near him, and not speaking. Day after day he came and went away again without a word, as though the cool sound of the running water and the mere presence of the holy man were enough for him.

Meantime, his temporary stay at the Police station was coming to an end, and he was feeling apprehensive because no suitable house had been found. At last, one day, much to his delight, the Sadhu spoke to him gently: “Is there anything, my son, you want to say?”

“Nothing, Babaji,” said Daulat Ram, “except that I want to live in the shadow of your feet.”

“This is the abode of Sadhus,” the Baba said,” and for ages past it has been so. Families cannot enter the four-walls of this shrine: no worldly sorrows and worldly joys disturb this home of peace.”

The ripened wisdom of the ages seemed to speak with a tongue as old as the withered roots of the Pipal tree, under which the Sadhu and his devotee sat.

The old man looked up and continued: “Since Mitra Singh, centuries ago, planted these trees, and Mastan Singh dug this tank, and built this house, it has been the tradition of the spot that it should be far from the inroads of secular life. Even when Ranjit Singh, the great Maharaja, settled lands on this shrine, we accepted them with great reluctance, making it clear that this place should not be turned into a rest house, and he gave us his promise. Why not then leave us in peace?” Daulat Ram, deeply moved by what he had heard, caught hold of the Sadhu’s feet and said “Master of Masters! I do not want to live here just because I want to have a roof over my head, but because I want to serve you. My story is the story of a man who has waded through the river of life, to reach its fountainhead of inner peace and harmony, and I feel I can move towards the source at your feet. Give me a chance and you will find me worthy of it.”

Baba Bishan Singh looked meditatively into space, for what seemed to be an interminable time. Then, as though acting in a mood of inspiration, he nodded assent.

Daulat Ram had won the second battle of his life, and the very next day he moved with his wife into a corner room in the courtyard. The liking of the Sadhu for his new friends grew into a deep spiritual communion —- that quite unspoken understanding, where silence conveys more than words.

DATELINE FAISALABAD

Shamsul Islam Naz

THE sudden opening of the 62-kilometre Motorway-3 strip for linking Faisalabad with Motorway-2 has posed a serious threat to human life and created many difficulties for travellers.

M-3 (Pindi Bhattian-Faisalabad) project, completed in 16 months was formally opened by President Gen Pervez Musharraf on Oct 4. As claimed by the contractor, it had been completed six months before the scheduled time at a cost of Rs5,327 million.

Travelling on the road strip revealed that it was still incomplete in many respects and lacked all basic amenities required for the smooth flow of vehicular traffic on an expressway. Right from Faisalabad Toll Plaza up to M-2 at Pindi Bhattian, more than 60 per cent road on both sides has not been covered with fences and animals were seen roaming around. Villagers were also crossing the road without any hindrance.

Likewise, there is no lining on a major portion of M-3 nor has any railing been installed on canals and other important areas earmarked on the strip. Thus the entire road poses a threat to human lives. If stray animals hit vehicles, fatal accidents cannot be ruled out.

Right from Faisalabad on both the Lahore and Islamabad sides, a distance of 115 kilometres, no facilities like wash-rooms, parking lots, motels, filling stations, mosques, service shops, and emergency centres have been set up. Similarly, there is no helpline on M-3.

The Pakistan Motorway Police, meant to ensure smooth flow of traffic, is hardly visible on the strip. Only one vehicle and two motorcycle-riders were seen on duty. There is not a single mobile workshop despite the fact that vehicles develop mechanical faults on the road.

Likewise, all dividers on this strip are not properly painted and marked.

While travelling on M-3, one notices that surface is not as smooth as it should be.

Travellers are forced to pay more as compared to the M-2. From Lahore Toll Plaza to Islamabad Toll Plaza (336 kilometres’ distance), Rs140 are charged from car-owners at the rate of 40 paisa per kilometre while for 125 kilometres’ distance from Lahore Toll Plaza to Faisalabad Toll Plaza, car-owners are made to pay Rs70 at the rate of 60 paisa per kilometre.

When contacted, a spokesman of the contracting consortium told Dawn that M-3 was completed by the local firms in the record time of 19 months, at half the price of M-2. He admitted that the requisite infrastructure was still incomplete, adding that they were doing the job with zeal and spirit. He said it was the decision of the NHA officials to open the strip for traffic and the remaining task was being completed at a very fast pace. He denied any defect in compaction, carpeting of road strip or technical fault, insisting that the road strip was far better than the M-2 which can be proved by analysis of the material used from any laboratory.