Whether we like it or not, President General Pervez Musharraf has been able to retrieve the Kashmir problem from the backburner. Our satisfaction is that the military establishment he heads has realized that no solution is possible through hostilities.
This is a substantial gain because from the days of the Tashkent Agreement in 1966 New Delhi's endeavour has been to convince Islamabad to renounce the use of arms to end all disputes between the two.
Now when the talks look like throwing up a solution, we should not be seen flinching. The international community is watching the progress on Kashmir anxiously. We should not be found wanting. Moreover, this is an opportunity the two countries cannot afford to miss.
Musharraf has set the ball rolling. He first told two Indian journalists that the solution of Kashmir lies in identifying the area, demilitarizing it and giving it a status.
Subsequently, he gave shape to his proposal by specifying seven areas: plains, including Jammu, foothills up to 7,000 feet, Pir Panjal, the valley, the Great Himalayan zone, upper Indus valley and the northern areas, the Karakoram, parts of which are with China.
For the first time, a Pakistan ruler has proposed independence for Kashmir, besides joint control or UN mandate. Musharraf must have done the rethinking after talking to the Indian journalists, including myself.
At that time, when told that the Kashmiris wanted independence, he said that they would "step back" once concrete proposals were on the table. This might still happen. But independence is an option as of now.
New Delhi has not yet reacted to Musharraf's proposals in any significant manner. In the past there have been remarks like "the sky is the limit." Still India has been fiercely supporting and sustaining the status quo. That is the four corners of our policy on Kashmir.
The home ministry has a department on Kashmir which does not believe in having any input from outside. Politicians in power and bureaucrats in the department work out a strategy, not policy, as and when the situation demands. A few former bureaucrats are thrown in as interlocutors every now and then to know the mind of leaders in the valley. The department often gets it wrong.
What Musharraf has proposed is re-division of Jammu and Kashmir. This is something to which none in the government - the opposition or even the experts - has applied the mind, at least not methodically or seriously.
Even if they had, I do not think any government in New Delhi can sell to the country a proposal which suggests division on the basis of religion and throws out the status quo completely. True, a sterile policy is worth jettisoning but when the price demanded is a seven-tier state, the suspicion heightens.
I believe that Prime Minister Manmohan Singh proposed to discuss options when he met Musharraf at New York, putting two riders: one, no territorial adjustment, and two, no division on the basis of religion. Musharraf's proposals eschew the word, religion, but the geographical changes he suggests are primarily on that basis.
An unsteady secular polity like ours cannot accept this. Any division or even a hint of it may revive the horrors of partition. The defeated BJP is only looking for a semblance of chance to revive Hindutva which, at present, does not arouse any response.
Still Musharraf's seven-region proposal should not be rejected outright. It can be made the basis for riveting a setup which may ultimately overcome the objections voiced by India, Pakistan and the Kashmiris. Why not merge the seven regions into two units so that they are viable and, at the same time, can pass muster to be acceptable to the majority.
I have a proposal. Having been associated with leaders and people in the state for more than four decades, I consider myself competent as well as involved enough to suggest a way out.
Once youthful Kashmiri leader Yasin Malik advised me not to make any proposal on Kashmir so that I might one day help the process of negotiations. My profession of writing demanded me to react to the situation prevailing at a particular time. If that rules me out I cannot help.
The crux of the problem is the valley. The Indian parliament has also asked the government to take up "the other Kashmir under Pakistan's occupation." So there are two units: Kashmir and the Azad Kashmir.
They have established their identity in the last 55 years - the first is Kashmiri-speaking and the second Punjabi-speaking. My suggestion is that both Kashmirs should be given autonomy. That is, the governments in these two regions should enjoy all subjects except defence, foreign affairs and communications.
The three subjects were the ones which the Maharaja of Jammu and Kashmir gave to New Delhi when he signed the Instrument of Accession to integrate his state with India.
The Azad Kashmir is directly under Islamabad and enjoys only the crumbs of power thrown at it. My proposal gives it full autonomy like the one in Kashmir on the Indian side.
The border between the two Kashmirs should be made soft so that the citizens of the two Kashmirs travel freely, without any passport or papers, in both the parts. (I hope terrorism will be over by that time). The status for these areas is that of autonomous units.
The three subjects, foreign affairs, defence and communications, will vest in the government in New Delhi as far as Kashmir is concerned and Islamabad regarding the Azad Kashmir.
Both the Kashmirs should be demilitarized, India withdrawing its forces from the valley and stationing them at the valley's border. Pakistan will do a similar thing regarding the Azad Kashmir.
The UN and major powers should be individually or collectively involved to guarantee the demilitarization of the areas if and when the final settlement is reached. The settlement should be final. There will be no reopening. Both countries should withdraw their complaint from the UN and other international bodies.
All the 72 confidence-building measures - India has increased the number from eight to 72 - should be implemented straightaway so that people-to-people contact increases and trade gets going.
I know Musharraf is allergic to the Line of Control (LoC). But there has to be some line drawn to demarcate the border. The LoC can be straightened as prime minister Indira Gandhi had suggested to the then Pakistan prime minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto at Shimla. Islamabad knows it well that the international community is in favour of the LoC becoming a permanent border, with minimum changes.
Since communications is one of the subjects entrusted to the central government on either side, the autonomous areas will not feel that they are landlocked. Facilities available in both India and Pakistan will be at the disposal of two Kashmirs. With soft borders, they can trade between themselves, have a common currency if they so desire and receive tourists freely from all over the world.
Both Kashmirs can transfer more subjects to central governments, Azad Kashmir to Islamabad and the valley to New Delhi. It is up to their state assemblies to do so once the settlement is signed, sealed and delivered and fresh elections held.
The writer is a leading columnist based in New Delhi.
Democrats in a divided land
By Harold Meyerson
"All right," John Dos Passos wrote in a rage over the execution of Sacco and Vanzetti, "we are two nations." Oh, are we ever. And 77 years after Dos Passos penned those words, his two nations and ours bear an almost spooky resemblance.
The most striking, the most overwhelming fact about the 2004 vote is how closely it resembles the 2000 vote. Think of it: Since November 2000, the twin towers have been obliterated, we've gone to war preemptively and under erroneous pretences in Iraq, George W. Bush has become the first president since Herbert Hoover to have jobs shrink on his watch, our standing in the world has diminished nearly everywhere.
And how did all this affect the electoral map? A shift of 17,000 votes turned New Hampshire (four electoral votes) from red to blue, while a shift of 12,000 votes turned New Mexico (five electoral votes) from blue to red.
The battle lines of the cultural civil war that emerged in the 2000 contest have shown themselves to be all but impermeable to even the most earthshaking events. What did change between 2000 and 2004 was the capacity of the two parties to mobilize the forces behind their own lines. The Democrats did a splendid job of turning out their vote. The Republicans did a stupendous job of turning out theirs.
The exit polling - amended, adjusted, corrected for reality - shows the magnitude of the shift. In 2000 Democrats constituted 39 percent of the electorate and Republicans 35 percent.
This year Democrats and Republicans each constituted 37 percent of the electorate. Four years ago, moderates made up 50 percent of the voting public and conservatives 29 percent. On Tuesday the moderate share of the electorate declined to 45 percent, while conservatives boosted their share to 34 percent.
The Republicans didn't get these figures by winning millions more political conversions than the Democrats: The numbers of 2000 Gore voters crossing over to vote for Bush this time and 2000 Bush voters crossing over to vote for Kerry seem about equal.
Rather, they boosted their totals in small towns and hamlets, among Protestant evangelicals who don't often vote, beyond nearly everyone's expectation but their own. Karl Rove's strategy - that Bush could attain a majority by a super-mobilization of the Christian right - was vindicated and then some on Tuesday.
What Bush won on election night was a narrow "moral majority." The overwhelming support the president won among traditionalist churchgoers of modest means was rooted in an affinity of values. There's no evidence to suggest that Bush's "Medicare reform" - his term for a huge give away to the prescription drug industry - yielded him any votes at all.
Although Bush claims a mandate for his right-wing economics, that's clearly not what won him and other Bush Republicans the support of his evangelical base. - Dawn/Washington Post Service
The triumph of Arafat
By S. Nihal Singh
I met Yasser Arafat in Tunis in March 1988 in his exile. Two rings of Kalashnikov-toting supporters guarded him, and each visitor was frisked before gaining entry to his temporary headquarters. And there he was sitting in front of an immense photograph of Jerusalem's dome on the rock covering the entire wall behind him.
He was in his habitual chequered head dress and military fatigues. What struck me was the mobility of his face and his energy, seemingly eager to burst out of his frame like a coiled spring.
So much of Palestinian history was behind him. He had met reverses, most recently in Lebanon, but nothing, it seemed, could put him down. He remained what he had always been: the symbol of Palestinian identity and future independence.
That was the time of the first intifada in the Israeli-occupied territories. Boys armed with stones were battling Israeli soldiers in tanks. It was a home grown movement that had projected the Palestinian struggle to the world. Arafat quickly appropriated it, calling the young fighters "my new generation". He told me: "Peace needs courageous men. We are ready".
As Arafat left his battered Ramallah compound last month, where he had been held a prisoner by Israelis for more than two years, to seek medical help in a Paris military hospital, my thoughts went back to that day in Tunis when all seemed lost for Palestinians.
Because, after a tempestuous journey of decades with hopes alternating with despair, Palestinians have again become the orphans of the world. And their hope and symbol of nationhood has embarked on a new, more uncertain journey.
There are many dramatic moments in Arafat's political career, each carved in collective Palestinian consciousness. He bloodied Israel in Jordan in 1968 and was under Israeli siege in Lebanon in 1982. He was first expelled by King Hussein of Jordan and had to leave his Beirut headquarters under Israeli onslaught.
Abu Amar, as he was called by his people, always showed courage and an indomitable belief in a future independent Palestine state. The central contradiction of the Arabs' lip-sympathy for the Palestinian cause was that though they supported Arafat financially, their governments were too constrained or unwilling to give him substantial political help.
Arafat had reinvented himself and his movement when his goal seemed within reach through peaceful means after he had backed Saddam Hussein in the Second Gulf War, the first being the Iran-Iraq war.
The US-led victory yielded the Madrid conference and that, in the fullness of time, yielded the Norwegian-mediated Oslo accords. Arafat returned to the Gaza Strip in triumph in 1994.
The Palestinian Authority came into being and for a time there was the promise of a happier future and a Palestinian state. The award of the Nobel Peace Prize to Arafat and Israeli prime minister Yitzhak Rabin helped. Hope was symbolized by that handshake between the two on the White House lawn on September 13, 1993.
There are many reasons why the Oslo experiment failed. Conventional western wisdom blames Arafat and the second Intifada, in itself a disastrous development for the Palestinian cause.
The truth is kinder to the Palestinians and harsher to the Israelis. Israelis were split down the middle, with at least half of then never having accepted the basic assumption of Oslo: land for peace.
In 1990, Benjamin Netanyahu, then a junior foreign minister, explained to me at great length in his office in Jerusalem why his country should keep all the gains of the 1967 war: "Otherwise, if you were to run across the country from one end to the other, you would reach it in a few hours".
Rabin was assassinated by an Israeli and, after an interregnum, Netanyahu assumed the office of prime minister. American mediation continued; Netanyahu's attempt was to string President Bill Clinton along.
And even as political fortunes in Israel changed, with Labour's Ehud Barak occupying the prime minister's chair, Clinton sought to write his name in history books by achieving a resolution of the central West Asian problem.
The United States, as the traditional protector and mentor of Israel, had severe domestic constraints in pressuring Israelis. Significantly, Clinton waited till the near-end of his second and final term of office to summon the courage to try to cut the Gordian knot.
Western political folklore then takes over. It was Arafat who spurned a once-in-lifetime opportunity to achieve a substantial portion of his goals. Truth is less flattering to president Clinton. The timing of the new Camp David parleys was determined by Barak, who had a penchant for springing surprises and revealed his strategy and tactic to few.
He was then head of a minority government and it was far from certain that he could carry the day in Israel, had Arafat accepted the deal. And Arafat, who was feeling hemmed in, was required to sign on the dotted line - giving up the emotive Palestinian right of return to their original homes - up front.
The nature of Palestinian sovereignty over East Jerusalem on offer was fudged.Palestinian frustrations eventually spilled over into a second Intifada. Arafat was blamed for his inability or unwillingness to stem the violence, which often took the form of suicide bombings. Ariel Sharon assumed power in Israel.
Indeed, his stars were in the ascendant because President George W. Bush was occupying the White House, adopting a laissez-faire attitude long enough to give Israel a virtual carte blanche.
Sharon had been on record as saying that he wanted to break the will of the Palestinians to force them to make peace with Israel on his terms. He systematically set about destroying the Palestinian infrastructure, funded mostly by Europeans, grounded Arafat's planes and helicopters and battered his Ramallah headquarters, leaving him a few rooms in which to live and work. Eliminating Arafat, his ministers publicly speculated, was one option.
President Bush reacted as he was expected to. He launched a so-called road map leading to nowhere while proclaiming the principle of a Palestinian state, stringing along a Quartet, including the European Union, Russia and the United Nations, that has helplessly watched the Palestinians being deprived of a state or dignity.
Sharon had declared Arafat a non-person in the old Soviet manner, quickly to be followed by President Bush. Single-mindedly, Sharon ploughed his furrow, building a wall by expropriating more occupied land, contemptuously disregarding its illegality, and then unveiled his master stroke: a unilateral plan to withdraw settlers and troops from Gaza and a few odd settlements on the West Bank.
The Israeli prime minister's logic was that since Arafat was "irrelevant", he had no Palestinian leader to talk to. Sharon's plan for a version of Greater Israel was quickly blessed by the United States and, with reservations, by the Europeans.
Arafat's fateful journey to Paris, therefore, comes as an unwelcome distraction for Sharon. He and many others might proclaim that the Arafat era is over, but Arafat, despite his many failings as an administrator, has triumphed because he has given his people an identity that cannot be erased and has checkmated Sharon in achieving his central aim: breaking the will of the Palestinian people.
The writer is a former editor of The Statesman, New Delhi.